Potato Chip Therapy
Monday, July 25, 2011
My goal for the summer was not about weight loss, even though I am back to my starting weight after my first child was born. As you may know, I have been battling depression, worthlessness, bottom of the gutter self-esteem issues for the past 3 years. And with this battle came first a 20-lb weight LOSS and then a 60-lb weight GAIN. The LOSS was when I still had hope, because I somehow thought that if I lost weight, I would win. When I lost, then I gained weight. Rather ironic there...
Been through 2 therapists and the last one said at the end that I was done. He had done everything he could, and that the changes really needed to come from within. I can't tell you how many times I've been told to find another therapist, but I have resisted this because I think he was right. Logically, I can see where my thinking or feeling is faulty, and I know what I need to do to change that. It's just MAKING that change that is the hard part. Really hard.
I knew I wasn't going to lose weight if I couldn't get past this sinkhole, black hole depression. Therefore, my goal for the summer was to be happy.
Easier said than done? No, surprisingly not. I just made it my goal to find little things in every day that made me happy. Sometimes it was watching a spider weave its web. Or cleaning out a closet. Or watching something enjoyable on TV.
I also found myself a new "therapist": Dr. Lays and his associate Dr. Jays (which was not as good as Dr. Lays but still OK). And for a period of two months, I was engaged in Intensive Potato Chip Therapy.
Every night I would afford myself 2 bowls of potato chips while I watched my favorite TV show.
I knew this was self-indulgent. I knew it wasn't the healthiest option. I knew I was self-medicating.
And believe it or not, I've done really well with my "happy" goal. Most of my days have been great or good. I had a few days here and there that were a little sad or anxious, but I got through it, knowing that my bowls of potato chips would be waiting for me.
Believe it or not, after 2 months of therapy, I was ready to let go. I didn't buy another bag after the last bag of Jays was done. I've been eating more fruits and vegetables. Drinking more water. Limiting my servings. Cutting out the late night snacking and sleeping instead of eating.
Maybe that therapist guy was right. Or maybe he was wrong. But I've been doing pretty well, and that's what counts.