button bliss

today i was able to fasten a button that i haven't been able to close in a long time.


funny how the simple act of buttoning a button can color the whole day with magic, wonder, and delight.


i've also found that there is magic in these wise words over at fat as hell.

week 2 goal check in

week 1 goal: document all food intake. goal met
week 2 goal: stay within weekly alloted points. goal almost met.

didn't quite meet my week 2 goal, but i did lose a pound and a half at my weigh in yesterday. i was really beating myself up, too - this past weekend i had the most god awfully good thick wedge fries and some of that disgusting bright orange melty yummy cheese. so good. but i felt so bad having them. this is one of those times where i'm grateful that i'm as large as i am because i get 31 glorious points a day on the weight watchers menu. i know, backwards thinking... but those fries were a little more than half of my daily allotment. so good though. it's amazing how riddled with guilt i felt in anticipation of the weigh-in and the goal check-in. the goal is to lose weight, right? so why the freaky freak-out? seems to me that it all just comes down to math. and yet i imbue that simple daily equation with enough emotional turmoil to make the freshman year at an all girls academy look sane. curiously enough i had quite a few triumphs this week - gutted the office/second bedroom and brought organization and cleanliness to an otherwise storage wasteland; logged more pedometer steps in one day than ever before; lost weight. yet all of these huge achievements seem to get swallowed by my own neurosis.

week 3 goal: make a dentist appointment and an eye doctor appointment

in addition to the week 3 goal, i'm going to try to focus on staying sane when curveballs come my way. i have to remind myself that this is a process. there are ups and downs. but the big picture has me moving forward, my weight trending down and my relationship with my body finding balance. i truly believe that regular blogging is key to helping me stay the course. i find that when i blog on a daily basis, i am more accountable to myself. i am more aware of my mind/body relationship. i am less likely to fall off the wagon into a box of big-cheez-its-because-it's-weigh-in-day-and-i-have-a-full-week-to-work-these-off-my-ass. i will quit beating myself up over the stupid shit, too. guilt DOES NOT BURN CALORIES. exercise does.

here's to another week of cumulative goal-building and getting back in the saddle. oh yeah, and to being nice to myself.

sanity check

i got home from work a short while ago. i was staaaaaarvvvving (not literally, but quite dramatically). i felt that psycho must-eat-something-NOW-tornado start to spin inside me as soon as i walked in the door. i hurried through the right-when-you-get-home routine of feeding and walking pets but as soon as i returned from the potty walk, i nose-dived into the kitchen. awareness was shot and the cloud of numbness was surging in. the fastest thing to prepare was an english muffin and while it was cooking, i spied pringles (even faster). when i saw the pringles, i had a physical, pavlovian reaction - i felt my eyes get bigger at the recognition of the unopened tube of potato crisps and i started salivating. this story has a happy ending, though...

"whoa. hold up there, little mama. i've only got 13 points left for the day," i thought with the last shred of sanity. so i took 10 pringles out (mind you, i have NEVER counted out pringles before - this is huge for me), put the canister back and waited patiently for the muffin to finish toasting. i grabbed a bottle of water and my muffin and retreated to the office to check in with the blogs and try to calm the category 5 winds that started a churnin' in me just moments earlier.

this moment, as i type, the crazy need to feed feeling has abated and i am calm enough and sane enough to go back to the kitchen and make a healthy dinner. i didn't die from starvation. and i didn't succumb to "the nothing."

could it be? is this... success?!

kickin' ass and taking inventory

great week. successful week. but before i get into the thick of it, a quick goal recap:

week 1 goal: document all of my food intake. goal met.

week 2 goal: stay within my weight watchers point range for the week

yikes! did i really just give myself that much hangin' rope for week 2's goal? i have to admit that as a weight watchers online subscriber for two and a half months, i have not had one week where i've come in under my weekly points. until now, i have lived in terror of this goal. mostly because a very large part of me isn't sure that i can do it, but there is also an equally fearful part that i will do it. for days i mulled over a good second week goal for myself - it has to be something tangible, within my grasp, but not too scary and hard that i'll land face first into a giant vat of chocolate chip cookie dough. staying within my point range seems like a natural progression from accurately journaling my food intake - but still, this idea strikes a really fearful chord in me.

in the past, i could sense the fear creeping in, gnawing at the periphery of my consciousness until i was so consumed with holding it at bay, whatever it really is, that i would lose control of my true voice... seemed like no one was running the show because my true self was lost in a cacophony of confusion and denial. i don't want to head in to my next goal with this much fearful chatter whispering in my ear.

"that's too hard. you'll never be able to stick with that plan."
"this plan doesn't afford you enough food or wine."
"you haven't managed this accomplishment in two and a half months, what makes you think you can do it now?"
"what if you get hungry? you can't tolerate hunger."

but my fear is sneaky - it's done a good job of creating chaos and confusion, all of which exists to mask a deeper knowing: i am not loveable and i don't deserve success.

every time i eat something that doesn't directly provide nourishment, every time i drink one more glass of wine, every time i decide to watch some stupid reality show in favor of going for a walk, every time i make a conscious decision to deny myself those things that are good for me, i prove that deep, pained part of myself right: i don't deserve success. i don't deserve a healthy body. i don't deserve to love myself.

recently, i've written a lot about accepting the small frustrations and discouragements of the day into my life. i've talked about making room for them, letting them have space, be heard. i've made room in my heart and acknowledged these daily worries and in doing so, i have given them the freedom to dissipate. "your job is done now, little worry, thanks for bringing it to my attention but i've got it covered - run along." this new revelation, though - this is a biggun'. and yet, as i write about this big, hairy, ugly underlying fear, i can feel it losing power, withdrawing, releasing it's grip on me. i am well enough to face it head on. i am strong enough to look it in the eyes and know it. if i can accept this part of me, this dark, painful part, then i can accept all of myself. i'm willing to do that. i want to be successful. i want to know the triumph that comes with hard work and dedication. if success feels anything at all like the relief and release that i'm tasting now in finding self acceptance, then i want more of it - a lot more of it!

slow and steady changes habits. i have to remember my intention for starting off with slow and easy goals: too much too soon is a known recipe for failure. but this new goal doesn't seem all that bad. when i stop and let the fear in, when i let it have a voice and acknowledge it, i realize that it is not the voice of my true self. the fearful voice is not the truest voice. it doesn't control me. i actually feel whole letting that fearful part up to the surface. i feel like i'm not denying, avoiding or ignoring me. i feel like i'm taking inventory of my inner workings and am getting to know exactly what's going on inside me. this is different. this feels like healing. this also feels a little like... success.

i have a hunch ...back

today was an awesome, awesome day:

• three pounds down after the massacre-at-chicken-wing-tray sunday nite
  
• awoke bright eyed and bushy tailed because i got to sleep at 11 last nite
• stayed within my points range yesterday
• got some exercise in yesterday
• voted!!
• wrote down everything i ate yesterday (cue european soccer announcer: GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLL, you know, because it's my weekly goal...)
  
• preparing a healthy, low cal, point friendly dinner
• very possibly will stay within my points for today
• have documented all my food thus far today (again: GOOOOOAAAAAALL)
  

but best of all, i was best of buds with my body today. all my mind/body chatter from yesterday really paid off...

i've been suffering mild, yet constant headaches for the past couple of weeks. i'm not prone to headaches at all, so this was a disturbing new trend which i immediately chalked up to shitty eating habits and too much of the vino. but today, i realized that the headaches are more likely from the awkward position of my neck and shoulders lately. my neck has been disappearing unnaturally into my shoulders - like i'm hunching over. i have literally been holding my body like i'm bracing for someone to hit me or something. i found myself in this hunkered position countless times today and each time, i would sit up straight, take a deep breath and roll my shoulders back. my headache is gone this evening!

could it be that my body has been trying to speak to me for the past few weeks? "hey pal! pay attention! i'm here, too!" i choose to believe that my recent headaches were exactly that - my body demanding that i take notice of it. every single time i caught myself hunched over today, i momentarily had to stop everything i was doing and dedicate 100% awareness to my back, my shoulders, my neck. calmness came into my belly with a deep breath, confidence into my physique with a straightening of the spine and rolling the shoulders back.

i repeated this exercise maybe 20 or 30 times today - which was another lesson my body taught me: it's going to take repeated reminding and effort to get to a healthy relationship with myself. regardless of how many times i have to stop what i'm doing and pay attention to what's going on in my body, in the moment, i always feel much better after making the correction.

the whole bracing myself bit - that's a pretty serious and disturbing stance i've adopted as of late... definitely something to ponder in more detail later...

but for now, i give thanks to my body for speaking to me... even though it took me long enough to hear.

f.u., weight watchers

a few weeks ago i took the plunge for a second time - the plunge being that scary-ass dip into the pool of organized weight loss. having heard myriad recent success stories from girlfriends and my folks, i decided to sign up with weight watchers online. gag. i was totally riding the high from the contagious excitement of hearing stories of 13 lbs lost! 11 lbs lost! someone else with a resounding 30 lbs lost!! i want that for me! so, with great expectations and ample courage i signed up with ww.

now this is not the first time ww and i have crossed paths. the first time i decided to jump on the bandwagon, and off the chuckwagon, was a few years ago when the ww lady came a-callin' at my place of work. she brought with her a veritable eden of healthy lifestyle changes, promises of weight loss at my own pace, PERMANENT loss, and all the while eating real food. hell yeah. where do i sign? the charm and charisma of ww wore off in exactly 1 and 1/8 meetings. little did i know that i was to become completely demoralized and shamed beyond repair by the weigh in of the second meeting. as i see it, i was doomed from go for a few reasons: 1. the weekly meetings took place at the corporate offices where i worked. (what the HELL was i thinking??) 2. the program happened to coincide with some fairly intense therapy around emotional eating. (SERIOUSLY. what was i thinking?!) 3. i gained 2 freaking pounds in the first week, and to my horror, was called out by the very same ww woman who, just a week earlier, promised me eden.

"oh" she said when, having summoned more courage than i thought possible, i stepped onto the public-scale-of-shame in front of a long line of my co-workers.

"two pounds up?" queried the voice of damnation. i could feel my shame burning the skin right off my chest and face in the form of a deep blush. i felt exposed. desperate. i wanted her to stop talking. just shut up. just shut the hell up, lady!!

"well what's going on? are you following the program?" i think it was at this point that i started to stammer on about some pitiful excuse. i had already spent more time on the public-scale-of-shame than the other folks who weighed in before me. i felt like every moment longer i had to stand up there and explain why i gained two friggin' pounds was drawing more attention to myself, to my weight gain, to my failure. i felt raw and vulnerable and it did.not.feel.safe...

finally free of the weigh-in humiliation, i dutifully folded in with the rest of the group who were now happily chirping amongst themselves about their successes over the week. one of the ladies-from-accounting (one who was always particularly nasty to me) plopped down next to me and challenged me, "so how much weight did YOU lose this week?" i told her i'd rather not talk about it. she stared a moment longer at me and harumphed around in her seat to chat up someone else. i sat for a few moments longer with the group, while hot, embarrassed tears struggled to spill over - my best intentions not to cry trying to hold them back. i think i stayed for a few moments longer before i quietly got up and went to the bathroom. where i proceeded to silently sob. weep. it was horrifying. here i was at my place of business and i was just branded with a scarlet "2" in front of co-workers on the public-scale-of-shame and now i was crying in the last stall in the ladies restroom.

needless to say i did not return to the meeting... i didn't return to any of the meetings even though i had paid in full for a few months. so you can understand that it was a particularly big decision on my behalf to sign up once more with good ole ww. this time, however, it felt quite a bit different. i signed up online so i wouldn't have to face the public-scale-of-shame... even if it was in front of supportive strangers.

imagine my horror resurfacing in completely new ways this time. my first week was more of a test run - an eye-opener, if you will. i was made acutely aware of just how much i was eating in a single day... just how much BEYOND what i was supposed to be eating to start losing at a slow, steady pace. resisting the urge to just not record a point or two, i decided that i would take the challenge and write down every last point of every last bite i took. i felt ready. this felt different from before. even though it was scary, it still felt safe to take this challenge.

after being on ww for one week, and facing down my first weekly weigh-in, this is what i have to say about the whole experience:

dear ww,
F.U.
how dare you make me write out every single god-forsaken thing i put into my mouth.
how dare you give me 31 measly points to eat a day - points that taunt my every meal and snack and glass of wine and glass of wine and glass of wine.
how dare you.
the past four days have been eye-opening, indeed, you scoundrel...
i am now wholly aware of just how many resplendent calories i consume on a daily basis - how could i not be, when, at the end of day one, i had exceeded my 31 points by an additional 20 points...
at the end of day two i drunkenly type in the last of my caloric intake, and you mockingly return a daily tally of 45 points!
this after i starved myself all day for you...
today you greeted me with an excited declaration, a declaration full of hope and of good-things-to-come: Today is your weight tracking day! and as giddy as a newly initiated sorority girl, i gleefully respond to your excitement by hauling out the dirty old scale, the harbinger of doom, for you. with joy in my heart and a lightness in my step, i get on, anxiously awaiting the result, as you promised, to shed 1 pound, or, if lucky, 2 glorious pounds.
imagine my horror to see the digital readout floundering 1 or 2 pounds HIGHER than my start weight.
your only acknowledgment comes in the form of a silent, mocking small orange incline on the weight tracker chart.
F.U. ww.
i dream of going home after work today and sulking into a pint of haagen daas.
yet you deal the final, cruel blow, demanding that i get out and move my ass if i want that damn ice cream, and even then, you only allow me 1/2 cup.

damn! this is exactly the demoralizing turn of events that happened to me the last time i tried ww. i totally started panicking, ate everything in sight and GAINED weight. but this time will be different. this time i'm not responsible to some lame ww nazi who will publicly chastise me in front of the rest of my co-workers who are waiting to get weighed. this time i am responsible to myself.

i am bound and determined to ride this out. i'm going to give myself the space to get over the initial freak out and let it be ok if i gain weight at the start of this. i will stick with it. i will succeed. i will be kind to my body. it will be hard and i will stumble. but i will stick with it...

and i have stuck with it... for five weeks now. and i have actually lost 7 lbs. and that feels really f'ing good.