Well, actually, I did it to myself. I "outed" myself as a MediFraud. It isn't that I don't follow Medifast. I do. In principle. I eat 5 meal replacements and 1 L&G with the appropriate fat. I drink fluids. I move my body.
But here is where I become a fraud. I don't buy all of my food from Medifast. About half of it comes from Medifast, but I also buy food from Diet Direct and from American Bariatrics. And I will buy it from any place else where I can get a similar, or even basically identical, product for less money.
I am an intelligent adult woman on a fixed income. I have to make my money go as far as it can. Besides, after being on this diet for more than a year, I get tired of the same old Medifast meals and I am also disgusted that they are making more and more of their meals with a higher carb load. I also don't drink much plain water. I drink about a gallon of decaf sun tea every day, sweetened with a little bit of liquid stevia. I have done a lot of research on the subject. There is no actual research that says we need to drink 8 glasses of plain water every day. Even the people touting that don't know where that "fact" comes from. Our bodies will use whatever fluid we give it, even the water in our foods.
I do follow the principles of the Medifast diet. And I consider myself to be ON Medifast. But I have learned a lot about nutrition in my 61 years. I know how to feed my body. I am careful what I put into it. I eat every 2 1/2 hours throughout the day. I just don't always eat Medifast food. True, eating 100% Medifast food will cover all of the vitamins and minerals needed. But I can do that with other things, too. I just don't think that the 20% RDA of Vitamin A from Medifast is going to be drastically, if at all, superior to the 20% RDA of Vitamin A in Wonderslim shakes.
Ok, I'm a rebel. (and I'll never ever be any good - thanks Shangri-Las) But I am losing weight. My body is healthy. I have simply opened myself up to other avenues. And I, occasionally, even eat REAL FOOD. Who knew??
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Life in 5 Chapters
An Autobiography in Five Chapters
by Portia Nelson
Chapter 1
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in. I am lost….I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
Chapter 2
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the side walk.
I pretend I don’t see it. I fall in again.
I can’t believe I am in the same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
Chapter 3
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I fall in….it’s a habit…but my eyes are open.
I know where I am. It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
Chapter 4
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
Chapter 5
I walk down a different street.
I have mentioned this (and mis-quoted it, I'm sure) before in my blogs. But I find myself thinking about it again. I have often deluded myself in thinking I am farther along this "book" than I really am. And, I suppose, in some areas of my life, I am.
But in regards to my addictive behaviors, I am actually in Chapter 3. Sometimes, Chapter 2. Mostly Chapter 3 with some caveats, I guess. I see a binge coming, I acknowledge that it is coming, I know that the deep hole is there. My eyes are open. And I fall in anyway. I don't blame anyone but myself - it certainly is not anyone else's fault that I am there. But I can't say I get out immediately. I get out when I am damn good and ready to. Yes, it's a habit. And there is some comfort in it. Knowing me, I have decorated the hole with lots of comfy furniture and wonderful music. It is sort of like home to me - a place to hide away from the pressures and stresses of daily life.
I think maybe there might need to be a Chapter 3+, or maybe Chapter 4-.
Chapter 3+/4-
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk over to the edge of the hole.
I look lovingly and longingly into the hole. For a long time.
Sadly, I walk around it.
Because I see this as the next step along this path. I just don't see going directly from Chapter 3 to Chapter 4. That just feels like way too big a jump to make at one time. I think I may been to baby step from Chapter 3 to Chapter 4.
Here's to baby steps. To making the best decisions we can in any given moment, even if they are not the best decisions we could have made in a different moment. Here's to growth, in all its painful glory.
by Portia Nelson
Chapter 1
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in. I am lost….I am helpless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
Chapter 2
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the side walk.
I pretend I don’t see it. I fall in again.
I can’t believe I am in the same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
Chapter 3
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I fall in….it’s a habit…but my eyes are open.
I know where I am. It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
Chapter 4
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
Chapter 5
I walk down a different street.
I have mentioned this (and mis-quoted it, I'm sure) before in my blogs. But I find myself thinking about it again. I have often deluded myself in thinking I am farther along this "book" than I really am. And, I suppose, in some areas of my life, I am.
But in regards to my addictive behaviors, I am actually in Chapter 3. Sometimes, Chapter 2. Mostly Chapter 3 with some caveats, I guess. I see a binge coming, I acknowledge that it is coming, I know that the deep hole is there. My eyes are open. And I fall in anyway. I don't blame anyone but myself - it certainly is not anyone else's fault that I am there. But I can't say I get out immediately. I get out when I am damn good and ready to. Yes, it's a habit. And there is some comfort in it. Knowing me, I have decorated the hole with lots of comfy furniture and wonderful music. It is sort of like home to me - a place to hide away from the pressures and stresses of daily life.
I think maybe there might need to be a Chapter 3+, or maybe Chapter 4-.
Chapter 3+/4-
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk over to the edge of the hole.
I look lovingly and longingly into the hole. For a long time.
Sadly, I walk around it.
Because I see this as the next step along this path. I just don't see going directly from Chapter 3 to Chapter 4. That just feels like way too big a jump to make at one time. I think I may been to baby step from Chapter 3 to Chapter 4.
Here's to baby steps. To making the best decisions we can in any given moment, even if they are not the best decisions we could have made in a different moment. Here's to growth, in all its painful glory.
Monday, July 22, 2013
It's a good day
Today is a good day. There are no crises lurking to be dealt with, no thunderstorms on the horizon, no evils awaiting me that I need to dread. It is simply a beautiful, sunny, not afternoon here in the Pacific Northwest. And for that, I am grateful.
My program is, once again, a peaceful place to be. I have my food ready for today, my Lean & Green ready to be prepared. My back, which seized up last night after my yoga practice, is feeling better. I have walked the dog, taken Dad to cash his check then to Costco where he is my "pusher man" (never mind the Steppenwolf song that plays through my head whenever he says that). I took my bar with me so that I would not be left in the lurch, hungry while running the gauntlet of the "free" samples. Actually, we got there early enough that they were just starting to set the sample tables up and were not actually serving yet. So we avoided the "senior's lunch buffet" while we were there.
I really have nothing powerful to say today. I just wanted to check in and say that I am doing well, life is good and I am so so grateful for and humbled by the support of all you kind people.
Namaste. (the Divine in me recognizes and acknowledges the Divine in you)
My program is, once again, a peaceful place to be. I have my food ready for today, my Lean & Green ready to be prepared. My back, which seized up last night after my yoga practice, is feeling better. I have walked the dog, taken Dad to cash his check then to Costco where he is my "pusher man" (never mind the Steppenwolf song that plays through my head whenever he says that). I took my bar with me so that I would not be left in the lurch, hungry while running the gauntlet of the "free" samples. Actually, we got there early enough that they were just starting to set the sample tables up and were not actually serving yet. So we avoided the "senior's lunch buffet" while we were there.
I really have nothing powerful to say today. I just wanted to check in and say that I am doing well, life is good and I am so so grateful for and humbled by the support of all you kind people.
Namaste. (the Divine in me recognizes and acknowledges the Divine in you)
Friday, July 19, 2013
Today, I am sad
I am sad today. I have worked so hard to stay on plan, then let my guard down last night. I got 3 food shipments in the past 2 days. But I think the thing that did me in was allowing myself to get a bit cocky. I saw my reflection wearing bicycle shorts and thought "Man, I really am getting pretty small!" I also am feeling overwhelmed by my Dad's decline, and it makes me angry at both him and at myself. Sitting across from him at dinner makes me want to scream lately. He chokes on his dinner, but shoves so much in his mouth that it falls out when he puts more in. I try to remind him to swallow what is in his mouth before shoving more in. But he then looks at me like "What? I can't even EAT right for you??". And then he chokes. Some days, my compassion is sorely lacking. Some days this feeble old man who used to be my strong vibrant father, my rock, just makes me angry. And that makes me feel sad. And tired. And guilty.
At some point after dinner, I was in the kitchen when I found myself saying out loud "I really don't much care". Well, there is was. My mind was stating its intention to binge. I heard it. I recognized it. I understood it. And did it anyway. It started with dinner - helping myself to a few bites of Dad's cheddar broccoli soup. Then the schnitzel. Then the gravy. Then it became the ice cream when I dished up his evening snack. Then it was the bars in the boxes. By the time I went to sleep, I had consumed 7 or 9 bars of different types, I'm not entirely sure. So, of course, I am up a couple of pounds today. And, of course, tomorrow is weigh in. And, of course, I am having stomach issues today and a carb hangover.
Today is a new day. It is humbling to me that every day we get a "do over". I can't undo yesterday. I can't uneat a single thing. I can pat myself on the back a little for recognizing the intention that I stated, which I didn't before. I only saw it in hindsight. I can love myself a little bit harder today. I can understand that momentary failures don't have to be a defining reality. I can let it be a temporary thing. Relapse is a part of recovery, I have been told. I am new to this recovery thing, so I don't know for myself.
Today, it is back to what I know calms my soul - my Food Plan. I will store the new food that came in, move the more difficult items to a less available location and start putting my life back in order. Apparently order is very important to me. And I will be thankful that my binges don't last until morning. Yet.
At some point after dinner, I was in the kitchen when I found myself saying out loud "I really don't much care". Well, there is was. My mind was stating its intention to binge. I heard it. I recognized it. I understood it. And did it anyway. It started with dinner - helping myself to a few bites of Dad's cheddar broccoli soup. Then the schnitzel. Then the gravy. Then it became the ice cream when I dished up his evening snack. Then it was the bars in the boxes. By the time I went to sleep, I had consumed 7 or 9 bars of different types, I'm not entirely sure. So, of course, I am up a couple of pounds today. And, of course, tomorrow is weigh in. And, of course, I am having stomach issues today and a carb hangover.
Today is a new day. It is humbling to me that every day we get a "do over". I can't undo yesterday. I can't uneat a single thing. I can pat myself on the back a little for recognizing the intention that I stated, which I didn't before. I only saw it in hindsight. I can love myself a little bit harder today. I can understand that momentary failures don't have to be a defining reality. I can let it be a temporary thing. Relapse is a part of recovery, I have been told. I am new to this recovery thing, so I don't know for myself.
Today, it is back to what I know calms my soul - my Food Plan. I will store the new food that came in, move the more difficult items to a less available location and start putting my life back in order. Apparently order is very important to me. And I will be thankful that my binges don't last until morning. Yet.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Working Without a Net
For the past 2 days, I have not been recording my food. I am working this program on faith - eat 5 packets, one measured lean & green with appropriate fats, drink water, move, sleep, done. Nothing more, nothing less. So what's my problem with this?
I am so used to tracking every bite, recording every meal, making lists and checking boxes that my OCD is sort of rebelling with this "new" approach. I have done it, mind you. I do still plan my meals for the week on a spreadsheet, but that is also for Dad's benefit. I write on the calendar what we are having for dinner a week at a time. The calendar is his Bible - he stands in front of it multiple times per day, checking something. I'm never quite sure what he is checking, but he is checking. It is sort of his talisman. If I change my mind about what we are having, it throws him.
But the rest? My mind says "How am I supposed to know if I am blowing it? How do I keep myself organized? How do I know if the 15 carb meals and the broccoli are too much?" sort of like Dad does with the calendar. And I try to quietly tell my mind that I don't have to know. All I have to do is eat 5 packets. Any 5 packets. And the L&G. After 2 days, my mind is beginning to accept this. I am beginning to not feel like I am forgetting something. I am starting to relax into this, like I did at the beginning.
(Speaking of the beginning - I passed my Mediversary without noticing. July 14, 2012 is when I started).
Yesterday, I got a shipment of food. That is an immediate trigger to sample everything in the box. I did not. I have some new things that I want to try, so I have scheduled them into my Food Plan for this week. Of course, I only have 4 "slots" available to work with as I can't mess with the sacred ritual of sharing bites with my cat while in bed reading. That is a Holy Rite, says She Who Must Be Obeyed.
How is my weight doing, being an unapologetic daily weigher? Oh, I'm still looking at the same number. My body did tease me with another unprecedented low yesterday, but snatched it back today. But I saw it! And I'm claiming it. And I will see it again.
Here is to Day 3 of actual honesty, not Sue honesty. Here is to Day 3 of following Medifast, not MediSue. Here is to Day 3 of keeping it real!
I am so used to tracking every bite, recording every meal, making lists and checking boxes that my OCD is sort of rebelling with this "new" approach. I have done it, mind you. I do still plan my meals for the week on a spreadsheet, but that is also for Dad's benefit. I write on the calendar what we are having for dinner a week at a time. The calendar is his Bible - he stands in front of it multiple times per day, checking something. I'm never quite sure what he is checking, but he is checking. It is sort of his talisman. If I change my mind about what we are having, it throws him.
But the rest? My mind says "How am I supposed to know if I am blowing it? How do I keep myself organized? How do I know if the 15 carb meals and the broccoli are too much?" sort of like Dad does with the calendar. And I try to quietly tell my mind that I don't have to know. All I have to do is eat 5 packets. Any 5 packets. And the L&G. After 2 days, my mind is beginning to accept this. I am beginning to not feel like I am forgetting something. I am starting to relax into this, like I did at the beginning.
(Speaking of the beginning - I passed my Mediversary without noticing. July 14, 2012 is when I started).
Yesterday, I got a shipment of food. That is an immediate trigger to sample everything in the box. I did not. I have some new things that I want to try, so I have scheduled them into my Food Plan for this week. Of course, I only have 4 "slots" available to work with as I can't mess with the sacred ritual of sharing bites with my cat while in bed reading. That is a Holy Rite, says She Who Must Be Obeyed.
How is my weight doing, being an unapologetic daily weigher? Oh, I'm still looking at the same number. My body did tease me with another unprecedented low yesterday, but snatched it back today. But I saw it! And I'm claiming it. And I will see it again.
Here is to Day 3 of actual honesty, not Sue honesty. Here is to Day 3 of following Medifast, not MediSue. Here is to Day 3 of keeping it real!
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
It's too HARD!!!
I have a beautiful, intelligent, goofy niece. She graduated high school and college with a perfect 4.0. However, she is not the most life-smart person on the planet. As a teenager, she asked which part of the bird a ham hock came from. I'm assuming it had something to do with "chicken hawk" but no one really knows.
As a little girl, 2 years old or so, she was being potty trained. Her Mom was in the hospital giving birth to her brother, so my brother was home alone with her. She came out one morning with a diaper for Jim to put on her. Jim said "Rebekah, go get your big girl panties." Her response. "It's too HARD!!!"
I think of this often in my life, whenever the "It's too hard!" whine comes into my head. Like today. The scale was up again today. And the little girl started with "It's too HARD!" right from the get go. It's too hard to follow Medifast and not lose weight. It's too hard to not see the results I want when I am working.so.hard. Right?
But let's get honest here. I mean, really honest, not the sort of Sue form of honesty. I have not been 100% on program, even though my conscious mind wants to think so. I have succumbed to the little bites, the extra pickle, the overdose of topping on my jello, the extra snack because it didn't affect my carb and calorie levels. So, I have not really been following Medifast at all. I guess I have been following Medislow. And, again, the little girl whines "But it's too HARD!!!!" Well, no, it isn't. It is very simple. Five little packets and 1 measured lean & green. Appropriate fat. Water. Movement. Sleep. There it is. The program in a nutshell.
So I am silencing the little girl. Just like my brother did, I sent her back for her big girl panties. Because it isn't too hard. I have done a lot harder things. I just make it too hard.
Today, I will not track my food. I will work without a net, which really irritates the OCDness in my mind. I will eat 5 packets, 1 measured L&G with the required fat, drink my water and leave the rest alone. I don't need to taste Dad's ice cream when I am dishing it up. They will make more. I don't need to spray Reddi Whip on my finger after putting the correct amount on my jello. I don't need to eat 3 snacks because I "have the room" on my tracker. I will do this as written. Period. Regardless of the scale, I need to do this because I need to submit myself to the program as written - if for no other reason, than for the structure and mindlessness of it. Because I will always have to have a food plan.
I have come so far over the past 6 1/2 years. I maintained a 100+ lb loss for 2 years. Then I gained back half of it. But I didn't gain back all of it plus some. I have been exercising willingly and joyfully for 5 years because I can. I have been a whole food Gestapo for 6 years. I have instituted a lot of healthy changes in my life that have become habits of health. So lets just get in and get this done already! Stop fighting with it and just do it. Be actually, really honest with myself not Sue honest. Sue honest never really worked anyway.
As a little girl, 2 years old or so, she was being potty trained. Her Mom was in the hospital giving birth to her brother, so my brother was home alone with her. She came out one morning with a diaper for Jim to put on her. Jim said "Rebekah, go get your big girl panties." Her response. "It's too HARD!!!"
I think of this often in my life, whenever the "It's too hard!" whine comes into my head. Like today. The scale was up again today. And the little girl started with "It's too HARD!" right from the get go. It's too hard to follow Medifast and not lose weight. It's too hard to not see the results I want when I am working.so.hard. Right?
But let's get honest here. I mean, really honest, not the sort of Sue form of honesty. I have not been 100% on program, even though my conscious mind wants to think so. I have succumbed to the little bites, the extra pickle, the overdose of topping on my jello, the extra snack because it didn't affect my carb and calorie levels. So, I have not really been following Medifast at all. I guess I have been following Medislow. And, again, the little girl whines "But it's too HARD!!!!" Well, no, it isn't. It is very simple. Five little packets and 1 measured lean & green. Appropriate fat. Water. Movement. Sleep. There it is. The program in a nutshell.
So I am silencing the little girl. Just like my brother did, I sent her back for her big girl panties. Because it isn't too hard. I have done a lot harder things. I just make it too hard.
Today, I will not track my food. I will work without a net, which really irritates the OCDness in my mind. I will eat 5 packets, 1 measured L&G with the required fat, drink my water and leave the rest alone. I don't need to taste Dad's ice cream when I am dishing it up. They will make more. I don't need to spray Reddi Whip on my finger after putting the correct amount on my jello. I don't need to eat 3 snacks because I "have the room" on my tracker. I will do this as written. Period. Regardless of the scale, I need to do this because I need to submit myself to the program as written - if for no other reason, than for the structure and mindlessness of it. Because I will always have to have a food plan.
I have come so far over the past 6 1/2 years. I maintained a 100+ lb loss for 2 years. Then I gained back half of it. But I didn't gain back all of it plus some. I have been exercising willingly and joyfully for 5 years because I can. I have been a whole food Gestapo for 6 years. I have instituted a lot of healthy changes in my life that have become habits of health. So lets just get in and get this done already! Stop fighting with it and just do it. Be actually, really honest with myself not Sue honest. Sue honest never really worked anyway.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
The number on the scale
As much as I love seeing the number on the scale, I am getting tired of seeing the SAME number on the scale. Two weeks ago, I started on a challenge to stay 100% OP (on program). I have done that. For 2 weeks. I initially went down 1.8, but it came back the next day and has been there all week. Today, I am down 0.2 from yesterday. Yes, I like the fact that the number is not going up. But it is supposed to be going DOWN. My weigh in for the first week of the challenge? Up 0.6. Sigh.
I know that this happens to everyone if they stick it out long enough. I also know it won't stay here. There is no way a body can maintain on less than 1000 calories per day. I can't go by my measurements because my skin is loose enough that I can't get a good measurement. I mean, where, exactly, did I measure last time? Without tattooing a "measure here" sign, I'm not sure. How tightly did I hold the tape? I take my measurements and compare them to the last time and they are BIGGER not smaller. My measurements have not changed all year, according to the tape, even though I have lost 17 lbs and my clothes are much much looser. So, see, my body has changed but I don't seem to be able to measure it.
So, what are my choices here when dealing with the frustration? What can I do? There are a two things.
1. I can say "Screw it! This isn't working anymore!" and go on an eating tear. Now, THAT will really accomplish a lot, won't it? It will just make my body weigh more, make my body feel crummy and my mind sluggish and make me even more frustrated. Except then I will add sorrow and guilt to the mix.
- or -
2. I can just stick it out. Track every bite. Drink my water. Eat my packets. Move my body. Basically follow the program. My body has no choice but to respond appropriately. Eventually.
When I was in Weight Watchers, I would run into times like this. Often. It seems that my body is reluctant to move to a number it has not seen in a long time, which is where I am today. I would get frustrated, even angry. I kept thinking "If I follow the program, I will lose weight. Period. Well, I followed the program, so what's the deal here?." But I was omitting the most important word from this sentence - eventually. If I follow the program, I will eventually lose weight. Maybe not right now. Maybe not even next week. But the scale always gives me the results I deserve. Just not always in the week I deserve them.
So, I will move into week 3 of being 100% on program. This, in itself, is a victory. I have not strung together this many days in a row since I took a "day off" for Christmas. After some terrible days of doing violence to my body with food, I am calmly following the program. I am being ever vigilant in identifying triggers that will send me over the edge. As I will have to do every moment for the rest of my life.
I know that this happens to everyone if they stick it out long enough. I also know it won't stay here. There is no way a body can maintain on less than 1000 calories per day. I can't go by my measurements because my skin is loose enough that I can't get a good measurement. I mean, where, exactly, did I measure last time? Without tattooing a "measure here" sign, I'm not sure. How tightly did I hold the tape? I take my measurements and compare them to the last time and they are BIGGER not smaller. My measurements have not changed all year, according to the tape, even though I have lost 17 lbs and my clothes are much much looser. So, see, my body has changed but I don't seem to be able to measure it.
So, what are my choices here when dealing with the frustration? What can I do? There are a two things.
1. I can say "Screw it! This isn't working anymore!" and go on an eating tear. Now, THAT will really accomplish a lot, won't it? It will just make my body weigh more, make my body feel crummy and my mind sluggish and make me even more frustrated. Except then I will add sorrow and guilt to the mix.
- or -
2. I can just stick it out. Track every bite. Drink my water. Eat my packets. Move my body. Basically follow the program. My body has no choice but to respond appropriately. Eventually.
When I was in Weight Watchers, I would run into times like this. Often. It seems that my body is reluctant to move to a number it has not seen in a long time, which is where I am today. I would get frustrated, even angry. I kept thinking "If I follow the program, I will lose weight. Period. Well, I followed the program, so what's the deal here?." But I was omitting the most important word from this sentence - eventually. If I follow the program, I will eventually lose weight. Maybe not right now. Maybe not even next week. But the scale always gives me the results I deserve. Just not always in the week I deserve them.
So, I will move into week 3 of being 100% on program. This, in itself, is a victory. I have not strung together this many days in a row since I took a "day off" for Christmas. After some terrible days of doing violence to my body with food, I am calmly following the program. I am being ever vigilant in identifying triggers that will send me over the edge. As I will have to do every moment for the rest of my life.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
How quickly it happens
I was lying in bed the other night, thinking about how my body reacts to certain things. I was thinking about how feeling trivialized makes me want to eat. I thought about a situation where it had happened before (I can't recall what it was now) and BAM! Immediately my brain started with telling me to get out of bed and EAT! It started listing all the things in my room that I could grab if I would just get up out of this infernal bed and get it. I didn't. But I was absolutely shocked at how quickly the demons grab onto a stimulus - even a remembered one. I also realized how much stronger my resolve muscles were getting then, say, a month ago.
I also was extremely hungry and had been since just after dinner. This never happens. I am hungry right after every other meal, but generally not in the evenings. But this night, I was. Really really hungry. The kind where it feels like my insides are sticking together. I knew that I hadn't had any caffeine since 9am - this will make my blood sugar crash and make me hungry. So, I checked off that idea. I sat with the hunger for awhile. Ok, I lie there with the hunger, since physically I hadn't moved. While allowing myself to be hungry, and calming my mind around it, it occurred to me that I wasn't really hungry. This was anxiety. My son had gone camping during the weekend and been bitten by a horse fly. The bite had gotten infected. He is prone to bad infections, his friend had had a similarly infected bite last week and wound up in ICU for 2 days. My friend has been in the hospital since April 3 with cellulitis resulting from a sore on her leg. All this was piling on my mind, and I was worried. But I wasn't hungry. Not really.
Once I realized this, I was ok to go to sleep.
There is always going to be something that challenges us. How I react to it is within my power to understand. And that understanding allows me to change.
I also was extremely hungry and had been since just after dinner. This never happens. I am hungry right after every other meal, but generally not in the evenings. But this night, I was. Really really hungry. The kind where it feels like my insides are sticking together. I knew that I hadn't had any caffeine since 9am - this will make my blood sugar crash and make me hungry. So, I checked off that idea. I sat with the hunger for awhile. Ok, I lie there with the hunger, since physically I hadn't moved. While allowing myself to be hungry, and calming my mind around it, it occurred to me that I wasn't really hungry. This was anxiety. My son had gone camping during the weekend and been bitten by a horse fly. The bite had gotten infected. He is prone to bad infections, his friend had had a similarly infected bite last week and wound up in ICU for 2 days. My friend has been in the hospital since April 3 with cellulitis resulting from a sore on her leg. All this was piling on my mind, and I was worried. But I wasn't hungry. Not really.
Once I realized this, I was ok to go to sleep.
There is always going to be something that challenges us. How I react to it is within my power to understand. And that understanding allows me to change.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Identifying triggers
I am thinking today about triggers. What things trigger me to binge? Sugar and her sister Wine are things that make me continue. But they don't start the binge because when it starts, when I am triggered to let it all go, they are not in my system. Yet. So what are the triggers? Or at least some of them.
Environmental: I am a secret eater. This has been something I have done as much of my life as I can recall. There is this feeling of being "blessedly alone". I come from a big family, I married young and had children young. Being alone was a blessed event for me. And I would eat. As a teenager, I remember making bread with butter and sugar in the kitchen while everyone else was watching tv in the other room.
Fast forward to now. I am my Dad's caretaker. I live with him. I basically own nothing because 3 years ago I got rid of everything I owned and moved in with him. I am with him from 7:30 am until we both go to bed at 9 pm. My room, my residence if you will, is in the finished basement. This is where I go on my day off - I watch the tv shows I recorded during the week. I sit with myself. I sit with my cat. But my Medifast food is also there. TRIGGER!
My response to recognizing this was to pack up everything that I used to binge on at night - the bars in particular. I removed them from my sight. The only thing left in there now are things I have to cook. I am not likely to binge on soup. Particularly not Medifast soup.
Now, I can't avoid being alone sometimes. But this trigger kicks in strongest when Dad decides to go to bed early. It is like a freedom thing then. The "blessedly alone" button starts blinking. Hmm.... there is ice cream. There is bread. There are boxes of cereal. There are...... TRIGGER!
So what do I do? At this point, I either give in or white knuckle it. I haven't figured this one out yet.
Another environmental trigger is the buffet type party. Food is set out. Everyone is grazing, eating, talking to people. No one will notice what I eat. Or don't eat. It is so easy to just grab a cracker, some nuts, some cheese, some chips, some more crackers, some more chips and off I go.
Emotional: I think most of my emotional triggers stem from feeling trivialized. Something pushes the 'Who are you? You're not important." buttons. Also, confusion will do it - too many things coming at me at once. Out of my routine, away from my quiet little life, feeling overwhelmed. TRIGGER!
So, what can I do? First, I can acknowledge the feeling. Recognize it. Honor it. Give it space. Basically, feel it. And then acknowledge that feeding it will not help. I will not feel more valid, less trivial, more important by eating a chocolate bar. I don't have to be large to not feel small. These feelings, while uncomfortable, are not fatal. Being less than perfect is not a character flaw. And I can't control what anyone else says or does. I can only control what I say or do.
Of course, it is also important to never allow myself to get too hungry or too full. Too hungry leads to the lack of discretion in what I choose to eat. Too full triggers a feeding frenzy, too. Even if I am too full from eating my required Lean & Green, that feeling will cause a problem.
Feeling lost and out of control will turn me into an eating machine. Why is control so important? Because my disease tells me that only by being in control of everything around me, can I be safe. And unless I am safe, I will surely die. This is flawed thinking. This is my disease speaking to me. This is not the truth. I don't have to be numb to be safe. Safety is an illusion. I don't have to be someone else to be loved. I am already loved. I am not stealing air from someone else simply by breathing. I have a right to be here.
It is freeing and somewhat scary to write this. But organizing my thoughts helps me to see the picture. Sort of like putting together a jigsaw puzzle. I am seeing a picture emerge from the individual pieces and seeing how one piece affects the next piece.
Environmental: I am a secret eater. This has been something I have done as much of my life as I can recall. There is this feeling of being "blessedly alone". I come from a big family, I married young and had children young. Being alone was a blessed event for me. And I would eat. As a teenager, I remember making bread with butter and sugar in the kitchen while everyone else was watching tv in the other room.
Fast forward to now. I am my Dad's caretaker. I live with him. I basically own nothing because 3 years ago I got rid of everything I owned and moved in with him. I am with him from 7:30 am until we both go to bed at 9 pm. My room, my residence if you will, is in the finished basement. This is where I go on my day off - I watch the tv shows I recorded during the week. I sit with myself. I sit with my cat. But my Medifast food is also there. TRIGGER!
My response to recognizing this was to pack up everything that I used to binge on at night - the bars in particular. I removed them from my sight. The only thing left in there now are things I have to cook. I am not likely to binge on soup. Particularly not Medifast soup.
Now, I can't avoid being alone sometimes. But this trigger kicks in strongest when Dad decides to go to bed early. It is like a freedom thing then. The "blessedly alone" button starts blinking. Hmm.... there is ice cream. There is bread. There are boxes of cereal. There are...... TRIGGER!
So what do I do? At this point, I either give in or white knuckle it. I haven't figured this one out yet.
Another environmental trigger is the buffet type party. Food is set out. Everyone is grazing, eating, talking to people. No one will notice what I eat. Or don't eat. It is so easy to just grab a cracker, some nuts, some cheese, some chips, some more crackers, some more chips and off I go.
Emotional: I think most of my emotional triggers stem from feeling trivialized. Something pushes the 'Who are you? You're not important." buttons. Also, confusion will do it - too many things coming at me at once. Out of my routine, away from my quiet little life, feeling overwhelmed. TRIGGER!
So, what can I do? First, I can acknowledge the feeling. Recognize it. Honor it. Give it space. Basically, feel it. And then acknowledge that feeding it will not help. I will not feel more valid, less trivial, more important by eating a chocolate bar. I don't have to be large to not feel small. These feelings, while uncomfortable, are not fatal. Being less than perfect is not a character flaw. And I can't control what anyone else says or does. I can only control what I say or do.
Of course, it is also important to never allow myself to get too hungry or too full. Too hungry leads to the lack of discretion in what I choose to eat. Too full triggers a feeding frenzy, too. Even if I am too full from eating my required Lean & Green, that feeling will cause a problem.
Feeling lost and out of control will turn me into an eating machine. Why is control so important? Because my disease tells me that only by being in control of everything around me, can I be safe. And unless I am safe, I will surely die. This is flawed thinking. This is my disease speaking to me. This is not the truth. I don't have to be numb to be safe. Safety is an illusion. I don't have to be someone else to be loved. I am already loved. I am not stealing air from someone else simply by breathing. I have a right to be here.
It is freeing and somewhat scary to write this. But organizing my thoughts helps me to see the picture. Sort of like putting together a jigsaw puzzle. I am seeing a picture emerge from the individual pieces and seeing how one piece affects the next piece.
Monday, July 8, 2013
No Easy Way
Again, I woke up several times last night with a phrase in my head. This one comes from Willie Nelson (I Googled it):
There is no easy way - but there is a way.
There really is no easy way to get through life. We all come with our own set of challenges. The only way to get to the other side of a problem, a heartache, a bad day is to go through it. Another line from this song is "The journey of a thousand miles begins with just one step". So, one step at a time, we have to proceed through whatever is in front of us. Sure, we can ignore it hoping it will go away. But when we get ready to proceed down the road again, that "whatever" is still there, waiting. Usually growing.
This journey to a more weightless future is not easy. But it is simple. By accepting how my body will react to certain stimuli every single time, I am simplifying my life. By accepting that my body will go into a tailspin and the demons will rise up in the presence of sugar or wine every single time makes the avoidance of those things very simple. But not easy. By accepting the program that I am choosing to follow as written makes my weight loss success very simple. But not always easy.
There is no easy way. But there is a way. Always.
In coming to understand and accept how my individual body works, I am simplifying my life. In simplifying my life, I will become more weightless - figuratively and literally. By fighting my body, comparing it to all those "others" out there, wishing it were different, arguing with it, expecting it to act differently than it will every single time, I am adding weight to my life - both figuratively and literally. And this is all within my power to choose.
For me, for today, I am choosing simplicity. I am choosing weightlessness.
There is no easy way - but there is a way.
There really is no easy way to get through life. We all come with our own set of challenges. The only way to get to the other side of a problem, a heartache, a bad day is to go through it. Another line from this song is "The journey of a thousand miles begins with just one step". So, one step at a time, we have to proceed through whatever is in front of us. Sure, we can ignore it hoping it will go away. But when we get ready to proceed down the road again, that "whatever" is still there, waiting. Usually growing.
This journey to a more weightless future is not easy. But it is simple. By accepting how my body will react to certain stimuli every single time, I am simplifying my life. By accepting that my body will go into a tailspin and the demons will rise up in the presence of sugar or wine every single time makes the avoidance of those things very simple. But not easy. By accepting the program that I am choosing to follow as written makes my weight loss success very simple. But not always easy.
There is no easy way. But there is a way. Always.
In coming to understand and accept how my individual body works, I am simplifying my life. In simplifying my life, I will become more weightless - figuratively and literally. By fighting my body, comparing it to all those "others" out there, wishing it were different, arguing with it, expecting it to act differently than it will every single time, I am adding weight to my life - both figuratively and literally. And this is all within my power to choose.
For me, for today, I am choosing simplicity. I am choosing weightlessness.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Happy Holiday weekend!
Today is Thursday, July 4th. It is our usual garbage pickup day and tomorrow is our usual laundry day. Being a creature of habit - ok, obsessive about routine - it is throwing me that we will not have pickup until tomorrow. I am doing laundry today instead. Tomorrow, we are going to one of my sisters' houses for the night.
I am working on figuring out how I am going to manage my program while there. Since it will be a holiday and special occasion because they have company, they will put on a feast most likely. She knows I follow Medifast, but isn't sure what it entails. I will take some foods with me. Heck, we will only be gone overnight so I don't need to carry a lot of food. Interestingly, the last time Dad and I went to visit her was LAST July 4th weekend and I spend the 2 1/2 hour drive deciding whether or not to commit to Medifast. The outcome of that decision is obvious now. On the way home, after discussion with her whose opinion I value, I decided to commit to a month. A year later, I'm still here and more than 60 lbs lighter.
She is a healthy eater, all in all. But they include things like corn on the cob and lots of fruit - healthy foods, but not on my eating plan. I know I will find things to eat, but I am a little bit raw in the staying on plan department so I'm a little bit concerned (read - terrified) of myself around the easy grab chips and their habit of eating later than we do. Like anytime between 6 and 8, whenever they get around to it. And I am a schedule oriented person and need to eat ON TIME, darn it! Well, that and I get so darned hungry that I am afraid I will then start in on whatever is set out for the rest.
So, I'm a little out of sorts today. A little concerned about the weekend. But looking forward to it because I love to drive, love to travel and love adventures.
Enjoy your holiday this weekend. Today I am grilling chicken burgers that I will top with a Thai Peanut sauce (Walden Farms sesame ginger dressing mixed with PB2 and cayenne) and cilantro on top of a bed of romaine. I am also making potato salad with red, white and blue baby potatoes that I will photograph but not eat. Blessings on us all.
I am working on figuring out how I am going to manage my program while there. Since it will be a holiday and special occasion because they have company, they will put on a feast most likely. She knows I follow Medifast, but isn't sure what it entails. I will take some foods with me. Heck, we will only be gone overnight so I don't need to carry a lot of food. Interestingly, the last time Dad and I went to visit her was LAST July 4th weekend and I spend the 2 1/2 hour drive deciding whether or not to commit to Medifast. The outcome of that decision is obvious now. On the way home, after discussion with her whose opinion I value, I decided to commit to a month. A year later, I'm still here and more than 60 lbs lighter.
She is a healthy eater, all in all. But they include things like corn on the cob and lots of fruit - healthy foods, but not on my eating plan. I know I will find things to eat, but I am a little bit raw in the staying on plan department so I'm a little bit concerned (read - terrified) of myself around the easy grab chips and their habit of eating later than we do. Like anytime between 6 and 8, whenever they get around to it. And I am a schedule oriented person and need to eat ON TIME, darn it! Well, that and I get so darned hungry that I am afraid I will then start in on whatever is set out for the rest.
So, I'm a little out of sorts today. A little concerned about the weekend. But looking forward to it because I love to drive, love to travel and love adventures.
Enjoy your holiday this weekend. Today I am grilling chicken burgers that I will top with a Thai Peanut sauce (Walden Farms sesame ginger dressing mixed with PB2 and cayenne) and cilantro on top of a bed of romaine. I am also making potato salad with red, white and blue baby potatoes that I will photograph but not eat. Blessings on us all.
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Flowering without roots
Last night, in the middle of the night, I found myself thinking about flowers. And this phrase came to me, and kept coming back to me:
A plant doesn't need good roots to flower. It needs roots to stay.
I would roll over. Go back to sleep, and the phrase would repeat. Again and again. I guess there was a part of me that REALLY wanted me to hear it.
I have seen plants flower with their roots barely touching the dirt. I have seen them flower in water, with the roots over rocks, in dry arid gravel. It doesn't always take a good root system for a plant to flower, even if only momentarily. But for the plant to stay, to be around for a long time, it needs roots. Good roots.
Most of my life, I have been either actively losing weight or actively gaining it back. I always did well in the weight loss phase. I'd make a big splash. Basically, I'd flower - all showy and beautiful, seemingly having it all together. But I never developed roots. I never did the work to make the roots of choice and control grow. I never maintained my weight losses for any length of time because I never allowed myself to learn how.
So this time, I am planting deeper. I am watering and feeding. And, more importantly, I am weeding - noticing the things growing in my soul that don't belong there and removing them before THEY grow deep roots. Have you ever noticed how much deeper are the roots of weeds than the plants we intended to occupy that space? Me, too. So I am nurturing the habits and attitudes that will serve me with health and joy. And if I do this consistently, the roots will grow and the weight will be released. When I stop doing this, or start doing it sporadically, I will be giving the weeds permission to take over. And I am tired of doing that. I am weary to the depths of my soul. This time, it is time. Time to finish the job I started. Time to cultivate roots, not weeds.
A plant doesn't need good roots to flower. It needs roots to stay.
I would roll over. Go back to sleep, and the phrase would repeat. Again and again. I guess there was a part of me that REALLY wanted me to hear it.
I have seen plants flower with their roots barely touching the dirt. I have seen them flower in water, with the roots over rocks, in dry arid gravel. It doesn't always take a good root system for a plant to flower, even if only momentarily. But for the plant to stay, to be around for a long time, it needs roots. Good roots.
Most of my life, I have been either actively losing weight or actively gaining it back. I always did well in the weight loss phase. I'd make a big splash. Basically, I'd flower - all showy and beautiful, seemingly having it all together. But I never developed roots. I never did the work to make the roots of choice and control grow. I never maintained my weight losses for any length of time because I never allowed myself to learn how.
So this time, I am planting deeper. I am watering and feeding. And, more importantly, I am weeding - noticing the things growing in my soul that don't belong there and removing them before THEY grow deep roots. Have you ever noticed how much deeper are the roots of weeds than the plants we intended to occupy that space? Me, too. So I am nurturing the habits and attitudes that will serve me with health and joy. And if I do this consistently, the roots will grow and the weight will be released. When I stop doing this, or start doing it sporadically, I will be giving the weeds permission to take over. And I am tired of doing that. I am weary to the depths of my soul. This time, it is time. Time to finish the job I started. Time to cultivate roots, not weeds.
Monday, July 1, 2013
Sisters and other family
My sister breezed through town yesterday. She does this on occasion and I realized last night that every time it throws me into a tailspin. You see, she is the tall one, the beautiful one, the thin one, the athletic one, the rich one - the DOCTOR! Not that she lords any of this over anyone. She doesn't. And I don't think she sees herself this way.
Jane is 10 years younger than I am. By the time she was in high school, I was out of the house. Mom always wanted to be a nurse and never was. But she was determined to have a doctor in the family. Jane was the one who had the grades and desire. So she became Mom's focus. There was a time when Jane questioned whether she was living her dream or Mom's. But Mom put her energy into having a doctor in the family. Which, of course, made Mom a medical expert by proxy. How sad that, in their elderly years, Jane is also the one that both Mom & Dad can't place. Mom would look at her and say "You look like someone I should know". And Dad has to be reminded who she is.
I am not at all sure that Jane has anything to do with my reactions to her being here. Rather I think my issue is that she has a lot of Mom's expressions which are read by my 6 year old mind as disapproval. I really should understand this because my face does exactly the same thing. But Jane always seems to be looking at me and biting her tongue. And I try so hard. But I realize that it isn't Jane's approval I am trying to get. It is Mom's, and Mom is dead. Whatever approval I was going to garner from her has already been done.
Still, last night, I went to bed in tears. Partly because I was allowing the demons to have free reign. Again. But I kept saying "I want! I want! I want to be perfect like Jane! I want to be important like Jane! I want her to like me!" And that is when the demons shut up. Stunned, most likely. That is when I was able to say "Ok, put this crap away and stop this nonsense!" And I did.
Today, a new day is upon me. Today will have it's own challenges. We are going to a Canada Day celebration at my daughter's house with her friends and her Dad. My ex and his current spouse. My Ex - the master of pushing the "Who are you? You're not important" buttons. Actually, he used to tell me that all the time. We have been divorced for 33 years. We have grown up, both of us. And I tell myself that he only has whatever power I give him. But, still, I want to impress him. I want him to like me.
Today, my promise, my vow to myself is that I will not numb myself with sludge. I will eat on plan because that is what I need to do to like myself. I need to be the tree, rather than the leaves being buffeted by the wind. I need to remember that the few pounds it would cost me to eat away my fears are not the problem. The problem is in the eating away the fears that are eating away at me. The challenge is being abstinent in the face of stress, confusion, change in routine and fear. The weight will take care of itself.
Jane is 10 years younger than I am. By the time she was in high school, I was out of the house. Mom always wanted to be a nurse and never was. But she was determined to have a doctor in the family. Jane was the one who had the grades and desire. So she became Mom's focus. There was a time when Jane questioned whether she was living her dream or Mom's. But Mom put her energy into having a doctor in the family. Which, of course, made Mom a medical expert by proxy. How sad that, in their elderly years, Jane is also the one that both Mom & Dad can't place. Mom would look at her and say "You look like someone I should know". And Dad has to be reminded who she is.
I am not at all sure that Jane has anything to do with my reactions to her being here. Rather I think my issue is that she has a lot of Mom's expressions which are read by my 6 year old mind as disapproval. I really should understand this because my face does exactly the same thing. But Jane always seems to be looking at me and biting her tongue. And I try so hard. But I realize that it isn't Jane's approval I am trying to get. It is Mom's, and Mom is dead. Whatever approval I was going to garner from her has already been done.
Still, last night, I went to bed in tears. Partly because I was allowing the demons to have free reign. Again. But I kept saying "I want! I want! I want to be perfect like Jane! I want to be important like Jane! I want her to like me!" And that is when the demons shut up. Stunned, most likely. That is when I was able to say "Ok, put this crap away and stop this nonsense!" And I did.
Today, a new day is upon me. Today will have it's own challenges. We are going to a Canada Day celebration at my daughter's house with her friends and her Dad. My ex and his current spouse. My Ex - the master of pushing the "Who are you? You're not important" buttons. Actually, he used to tell me that all the time. We have been divorced for 33 years. We have grown up, both of us. And I tell myself that he only has whatever power I give him. But, still, I want to impress him. I want him to like me.
Today, my promise, my vow to myself is that I will not numb myself with sludge. I will eat on plan because that is what I need to do to like myself. I need to be the tree, rather than the leaves being buffeted by the wind. I need to remember that the few pounds it would cost me to eat away my fears are not the problem. The problem is in the eating away the fears that are eating away at me. The challenge is being abstinent in the face of stress, confusion, change in routine and fear. The weight will take care of itself.
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