Panic! Halt! Relax! repeat

I was so peacefully dozing and I reflected on my small portion of ice cream tonight and thought, "Have I really beaten this?" Alarm Bells. "I've only begun to fight!!!!! This only gets harder in the beginning!!!" And my mind runs screaming through the streets of my mind. I realize the agonizing months ahead of me. I then begin obsessing. How much weight can I lose in a year, new clothes, the millions of choices to be made and the amounts of fruits and vegetables. I do this every time, focusing on things that have never occurred.And how many times have I dreamed of the finish line. It truly seems unbelievable. I mean completely unfathomable. Imagining myself at a healthy weight is like trying to understand the universe going on forever. My brain can't even compute it hypothetically. This of course leads me into a brain whirlwind about my future and my ADD brain takes over. I can just hear the tune of the carousel. Around and around we go, getting absolutely nowhere.

Ok.........Breathe in....... breathe out. I am a zen master. Ahhhh.......... peaceful calm. This day is over. Tomorrow will begin as it will. Worry is useless. One good portion of ice cream will do for today.

Coulda, shoulda, woulda

Regret is a truly ugly despairing thing. I was dancing with my nieces and I realized how I wish I had stayed in dance classes. First though, let's be clear. Now I only took dance classes for two years and to say I am not athletically inclined is quite the understatement. I was awful. I could never get the steps right and I was the least graceful thing ever on two feet. I felt ridiculous and didn't enjoy it. Somewhere there is a videocassette of me in a dance recital. I am the chunky girl completely out of step and looking confused the entire time. I would never have been a professional dancer. I am built like my father. I think "stocky" is the word most frequently used. The excuse "but I'm big boned" is actually viable for me. A healthy weight for me would be 180 pounds. Seriously. I'm quite the coquette. I think my skeleton is a size 10. No one mourned my dancing career when I stopped. But something happened to me as I got exposed to the arts. I love ballet and I love music. As a classical singer I understand the connection between body and rhythm. When I was young I pretended to be a ballerina. But only in the swimming pool where gravity is less of a bastard. Ok I admit I still do it. I also loved biology and the miraculousness that is the human body. I love the feeling of my body in graceful motion. As a slow song came on this evening and my 7 year old niece began her ballerina poses I started to do my own ballerina dance. Will this dance ever see the light of day? Oh hell no. I am fully aware of how ridiculous I looked. But my God it feels good. Except my obese body just won't do what I want it to do. I'm no ballerina but there is a dancer inside my heart. I just feel the movement and the rhythm. In my early 20's I would stay on the dance floor at the club all night. Even my skinny friends were knocked out by my stamina. It would hurt the next day but its one of the greatest feelings ever. I don't think I'll ever understand people who don't like to dance. It hurts my heart that I can't even do a plie or a simple leap in the air. I'm not asking for much here. I would never have gone pro but I know I could have been a decent dancer. It is such a huge regret in my life. And where does regret lead one? Right to the candy dish.

There is a baby shower going on downstairs and I literally want to push over a pregnant lady to get to the mini quiches. I've been sitting for a half hour hoping that there will be leftover, calculating number of quiches to guests in attendance. There is a good chance there will be some. It would be nice to just relax on my afternoon off but instead I'm thinking about the deliciousness of mini quiches and those little sandwich rolls from a box. Aren't there better things to think about? Apparently not, but on a good note I do feel some victory from my successes yesterday. I almost stopped at McDonalds and if I did stop I was only going to get a happy meal. I knew I wasn't hungry (luckily that didn't hit me until 3 a.m. and then I forced myself to think of the beauty of an empty stomach and the forcing of my body to burn up its fat stores)

I've also made a decision to only weigh myself once a month. This may seem weird since weighing yourself weekly is supposed to help your weight loss goals. Well that doesn't work for me. I find myself obsessing over every little pound. That obsession actually makes me want to eat more. So I've decided to focus on how my body feels. And after a week of green eating I know I feel healthier and less bloated. So I am going to focus on that. Its going to be hard to stay away but I know at the end of the month it will be worth it. My highest weight was 350 (yes, tragic isn't it? I'm a 5'7 female). Thank the Lord above I carry it well. I don't look weird, I just look fat. Fat but proportionate (I'll take it) I always feel so bad with the girls with oddly shaped fat parts. That must be horrible. I have been overweight all my life so I guess I'm mostly worried about how my poor beat up body will look. Please Lord let me find a man who can look past my beleaguered body. I got around 330 but I know I've gone up since that. Most scales don't go past 330 pounds. Nothing like an error message to make you feel like a house.

I seriously want that baby shower to be over. I am hungry (for real this time) and after my beautiful leafy lunch i think a mini quiche and a sandwich roll will be ok. Now trying not to eat the whole platter is the real battle.

The Blogging Begins

Here are my previous days journals.

Food Addict       AD/HD

These are my labels. These labels seem to define me. Matt says I love to put people in boxes and I admit that that’s true. And I live my life under these looming labels. The Food Addict label has been my burden since youth. Its always been a two-edged sword. It’s my constant, the thing my life pivots around. I’ve done lots of things in my life, but food has always been on my mind.When things are bad, its numbing shelter has kept me from going crazy. When my mind gets carousel, turning round and round, food always makes it stop. When things are good, food is a beautiful celebration. I am an amazing baker, which is a very cruel thing. The really sad thing about it is that I don’t love baking just for the food. I love creating something. Ingredients, measuring, seeing something coming together from all those parts. I also love being skilled at something that I can share with others. Its satisfying seeing someone enjoy something that I’ve made. Its also hard to hoard bake goods. Giving away cake has never been frowned upon. Even if I finally break this addiction, I can’t give up baking. Its something that gives me too much joy. But the reality is, its killing me. I’m slowly gaining weight and its killing me. Physically and mentally crushing me.

            Now AD/HD was definitely the silent killer. Very termite like. It shaped my whole life, everything I did, but I just thought I was crazy. It caused anxiety, depression which (shockingly!) drives me straight to the carbs. AHH carbs, but don’t get me started on that. Whats the most interesting is that learning I had it lifted a huge burden off of me. Being crazy is one thing. Not understanding how or why is excruciating. Letting go of that much self hatred and shame was amazing. Sadly the honeymoon was short lived. I can’t afford my medicine and life with Ad/hd is still just as hard. Having a label is helpful but it doesn’t go very far.

            So now what, the AD/HD is liveable and when I get my meds again, who knows what I’ll be capable of. But this addiction to food has got to go.

August 2^nd

Food battle: Peanut tart- 1 Me -0

Can I just not have desserts around ever? Is it possible to live, physically, with temptation? And is it possible to just get on with doing what I need to do during the day? I’m tired of just letting the hours pass but I don’t know how to stop. Well actually I don’t know how to start. I just sit. Passive I think would be the most correct word. The rest of my day I ate well. My fiber level is full. Can you eat too much fiber? I feel like a rabbit. And did I exercise? Of course I did not. So today though not a total loss was nothing to write home about.

August 3^rd

Pizza Hut Pizza, does such a finer thing exist? I don’t believe so. Man that was really hard. I hope what they say about it getting easier ever time is really true because I don’t think I could do that again if it happened tomorrow. I was doing pretty well and then E announces that shes not making dinner. So I’m torn in so many ways. I don’t want to let E know I’m “dieting” again. Its so easy to eat food without finding out, its impossible to diet without letting people know. I kept it from Erika as long as I could. Because I absolutely hate that look in her eye. But the sad part is that I don’t blame her. Shes seen me fail and fail and fail again. And I talk about it way too much. I refuse to say the word “diet” or talk about my food issues in front of her. And its so awkward when she says “Pizza” and I have to say I will make something on my own. Its pretty obvious. She hasn’t eaten that piece of cake in the fridge either. Apparently I’m going to have to deal with that too. Mom wants to go to Fuddruckers and then Matts birthday is Friday. Its like a food addict landmine. I know that it would be permissible to eat that dessert if I ate well the rest of the day but I feel like we are having some battle. I need to know that I can have it there and leave it alone. But I’m only human and I can’t with all honesty say that tomorrow I won’t eat it. Now Fuddruckers is going to be the main problem. But if I can go out to eat with confidence that I can make a good choice, well ladies and gentlemen isn’t that half the battle right there. Matt’s birthday is another issue. Can we say chips and salsa. I think I can pick a healthy dinner but no chips is downright cruel. Because I know I will think about them the whole time. Everyone will be chatting and I will be staring down the chips like they are my salvation.I will think about them until the food comes. So that’s three major battles in the next 3 days. Yowser.

August 4^th.

I hate this addiction that is food. I hate it hate it hate it. There are so many amazing things I could fill my mind with but to beat this I seem to have to dwell on it. Lunch was okay. I had a chicken sandwich. I took off most of the bread and only had 4 french fries. But I also had that slice of dessert. I don’t know  if to call today a success or not. Looking at things clinically I know that I was under my calories for the day but damn that pie. I know that I should not chase perfection. That never ever works. I need to try to just do better. I just hate thinking about tomorrow. I need a job and I need to not drink and eat my sorrows away tomorrow. But how can I deal with all this internal pressure without food to comfort me? And how long can I take this constant juggling of food. I’m tired of desperately trying to control what I eat but I’m so tired of crappy food making me fat and unhealthy. I know I have to find a balance where I don’t always say no but I make the right choices for the majority. I have to let myself know that today was not a failure. One battle at a time. This better f-ing get easier or I swear I’ll just settle for eating myself into a coma. The pain of being mobile is horrible. Its either drop the weight in this torture of a mind game or lie in bed and put more dimes in McDonalds coffers.

August 5^th

I feel like I am having to keep a tight hold on myself and I worry it won’t last. Well history tells me that it won’t. I was good today but I almost blew it at McDonalds at 2 a.m. Which I guess in the long run I could have lived with. With all the temptations today I made it through. 

The Food Addicts Diary

No one wants to admit that food can be an addiction. We would all like to think that all overweight people are just too weak or dumb to lose the weight. Laziness and ignorance contribute to many people's problems with their weight but for some people, me for example, have an addiction. And its not one of those cute "I'm addicted to chocolate" addictions. This is hard core, life consuming addiction. Every single day is a struggle. People have sympathy for drug and alcohol addiction. Most people have been affected by it in some way. Its terrifying watching that person deteriorate. But what you may not see is the person next to them. They may be eating a normal meal in front of you, they smile, they get on with their lives, they are productive members of society. But as you eat, they are in a personal hell of their own. That one meal is a string of meals that they have obsessed over, they may have planned their whole morning around it, they may feel guilty about it because they know they can't stop at full, they wonder the whole time if it will look bad if they have dessert, and what if no one else wants it. Its embarrassing to eat a whole dessert by yourself but sometimes it seems there is no other choice. And once the meal is over, the shame begins. The promises to eat better later, or tomorrow, or next week, or after that party. Don't be fooled, food addiction is real and it is insidious. There is no sympathy, there is no support and the most absolutely cruel thing about it is, there is no such thing as cold turkey. It would be considered cruel and unthinkable to make a drug addict smoke a pipe 3 times a day and only 3 times a day but tell them they can never have more than that. It would seem impossible to tell an alcoholic that they have to have a glass of wine at every meal but thats all they can ever have. I can't walk away from food. I can't "just say no." It's everywhere and its essential to live. So what then? What happens when you decide to conquer food addiction. Well so far its seems like you take obsession to a new level. A level that never seems to get easier. Its easy to obsess about chocolate cake and thinking about it all day can seem downright normal. But to obsess about not obsessing about chocolate cake and having to obsess about vegetables and portion sizes is absolutely horrible. I've heard that you have to just take it one battle at a time and that eventually the battles get easier. I just hope I'm strong enough to get that far. Because if life wasn't hard enough, I just happen to have AD/HD. So obsessing gets a whole new helper. My mind is a battlefield and its a war with not just food but how I think about it. Basically, I'm a f-ing mess.

As is always the truth, journaling can help one get out all those feelings trapped inside your head. But sometimes its nice to feel like someone is listening. Now I can't ever guarantee that one single person but me will ever read it, but if one person feels less alone, or one person understands someone else's struggle a little bit better then that would be awesome. Thanks for reading.