Crazy Pacing Insanity

There's this thing that happens sometimes. I guess I'd call it restlessness. Other people fidget, or twiddle their thumbs and tap their feet, stuff like that. It's a sense of needing to do *something* but not focusing on what it is. Me, when I get like that, it's usually because I have too many things to do and can't narrow down where to start. And when I get like that, I like to distract myself with food.

Maybe you've felt it too. For whatever reason, you have a sense of just wanting to eat something, but not focusing on just what it is. You pace around, back and forth to the kitchen, going from cabinet to cabinet, standing with the fridge door open and just staring in there hoping something yummy will jump out at you. If you've got junk in the house, this is the point at which it *will* make itself known and give you a battle. If not, it's easier to cope with. The smart thing to do in a situation like this is get out of the house and do something else. Take a walk, do some yard work. But if, for some reason, you cannot go out at the moment, it can be a battle.

Last night after a very good day eating-wise and 30 minutes getting my heart up with my new Wii Fit, I was feeling quite munchy. I wanted to eat, eat, eat. I kept eating healthy things like peaches, cantaloupe, salad, nuts, and carrots but wasn't really satisfied. I had the urge for CARBS! I decided I had enough calories left to have some potatoes for dinner. I'd saute baby red potatoes with onions and green beans, and add a slice of bacon for flavor. Yummy! I couldn't wait. With mostly green beans, I knew I could indulge in a decent volume of food with this dinner. Imagine my disappointment when I opened the bag of baby red potatoes and they were moldy!! They really were not salvageable, so I made the green beans with extra onions, no potatoes. But boy was I annoyed... I really wanted those carbs!!

After the green beans I wanted more. I had a 100-calorie pack of microwave popcorn. Lots of water. I still was pacing the kitchen (and really at this point I *needed* to get out, but was getting a child into bed in the midst of this). I found a teeny 80-calorie Luna bar and made myself a cup of tea to go with it, thinking that sitting down with a treat like that would help. But when it was eaten I wanted MORE to eat. Now you're going to roll your eyes at this, but there was *another* container of frosting left in the fridge (when I threw out that chocolate frosting the other day, I left the 1/3 can of vanilla in the fridge for the kids to use, since it was not "calling" to me). Well, it was calling to me now! Three frosted graham crackers later, I scooped it into the trash where it belonged in the first place! And then, I was able to stop. I counted up my calories for the day including *everything* and was still within my calorie goal: 1200 plus fruits/veggies (there was a *lot* of produce yesterday!)

I realized that my crazy pacing insanity and wanting food was stemming from mild anxiety about my upcoming vacation. I have *so* much to do before I go next week, things to buy, stuff to pack, planning to do. I didn't even know where to start. So last night I sat down and made myself a list of what I would accomplish today. And I slept much better last night! Today I have focus, and I now exactly what I need to do to stay on track getting ready for the trip. There's no more junk in the house at all. And the scale was down another pound this morning.

7/16, babies all flown the coop. Only two weeks ago they were eggs!! Big changes can happen in such a short time :)

Supportless IRL

I was sitting here pondering how tired I am, how much stuff there is to do, how I wish I had more energy to put towards the weight loss. And I figured something out that might have been apparent to others, but wasn't *really* in my head yet. I am weary and I need support in real life. I love the support I get online... great for keeping my spirits up. But some days I sit down and look at the piles of dishes, the laundry, the housework, all the errands I have to run, raising five kids, and I think, "dude, I just need someone to help me with all this."

It feels unfair, that I have no Grandparents to pawn my kids off on... ever. Not even once a year. My parents are dead, father-in-law too, and the mother-in-law is 2000 miles away in a nursing home with Alzheimers. I get insanely jealous when I hear other couples talking about going off on weekends together while the kids stay with Grandma, or how their Mom watches the kids for them so they can go to the gym. I don't have any brothers or sisters, and my in-laws are very distant, so my kids don't even have aunts or uncles who could take them once in awhile. When it's Christmas, or Thanksgiving, we do it alone at our house. There's no travelling to family parties. No one celebrating with us. And when I just need a shoulder to lean on, I can't turn to a sister or a brother or anything like that. It's just me and the kids. Yeah, I am married, but I'm alone almost all the time. And it's really draining on a person.

This is not what I bargained for when I had my children. Things were different then, and I had a very supportive group of "family-like" friends and a moderately supportive husband at the time. Stuff happened, we moved, life changed a lot. And now I am pretty much on my own, day after day. It's pretty tough, physically AND emotionally, having no one to rely on but myself. Especially with the kids.

Some days (like today), I really *need* to take some time for myself, sit down and take a load off and let *someone else* take care of things. Let someone else run the kids to their appointments, cook up the meals, go shopping, do the housework. I'd just like to be able to let my guard down for a day and know things aren't going to fall apart without my attention.

I think that's why a strong marriage and family is so important (IMO). I can't meet every need my children have. And I can't meet all of my *own* needs, either. I wish someone would just give me a hug once in awhile, tell me I am doing okay, and say "hey go take a walk. I'll take care of dinner." Boy, that would be heaven. But it isn't like that. I've been trying to find other things to "refill my well" as they say. A counselor is fine, paid help is nice, but there really is nothing like having someone who loves you to help you out or listen to you. A husband, a Mom, a sister, an Aunt. Nothing like real, tangible love from someone you know cares.

That's what's missing in my life. That, most likely, is what has driven my binge eating disorder. It's no coincidence that I started overeating and gaining weight when my first marriage was deteriorating. And the binges came into full swing when I got divorced. I never felt so alone, so overwhelmed.

My kids are (mostly) older now, not as needy and more helpful, so I generally don't feel overwhelmed. But I do feel lonely. I do wish someone would give me a hug once in awhile. My kids keep me afloat, but your young child cannot really support you emotionally. They shouldn't have to.

I think this is really the whole base of the bingeing. I want. I eat. It isn't food that I want... but food is easier to get than love and support. Filling the sense of Want with food doesn't work long term. It just screws things up.

I don't know what the solution is, and I'm not asking for suggestions. But knowing that THAT is what is *really* going on makes me more likely to say, "No, you don't need ice cream. Ice cream can't hug you or do the dishes for you or tell you that you're a good person. Quit treating food like a lover." Oreos are not my mother. A Reuben sandwich is not my father. Fried chicken is not my sister. Pretending doesn't make it so.

I won't find what I want at McDonald's or Pizza Hut or in the bakery section of the grocery store. Perhaps I will, someday, find the kind of support I long for... but in case that never happens, I just have to learn to be content with what I have, and rejoice in the good things in life I've been given. I adore my children, and that alone gives me a great deal of peace and strength. Hopefully, as I continue to grow stronger in my resolve to be well, I will be able to find a resolution to this great sense of desire for connection that has threatened to consume me for so long.

I feel so much better already, just writing this! And now I am off to bike.

Weigh In

Well, after that craziness yesterday I was able to keep it together and stay reasonable with my eating: 1201 calories plus fruits & veggies. I am probably eating 400 or more calories of produce, so no worries I am going too low.

This morning I biked 30 minutes while watching Clifford on PBS with my little girl. Not exactly riveting, but hey, it gets the biking done without much interruption! I did 6.2 miles on 4-5 resistance. It seemed harder today than yesterday and I felt a bit tired. I will be taking Sunday off from biking. I plan to try some new exercise today, probably my new resistance bands I bought to take with me on vacation.

It's been one week today since I stepped on the scale and gasped in horror when I saw 245 pounds. I turned it around that very day, and have been counting calories and biking all week. I've had some indulgences (which you know about if you've been reading) but stayed in the calorie range I was aiming for.

Today's weigh in: 239
Loss this week: 6 pounds

I am very pleased with this and plan to continue with what I am doing. I know I won't lose 6 pounds every week; in fact, my pattern in the past is that I lose a good chunk of weight twice each month in direct correlation with my monthly "female" cycle: I drop a few pounds right after my cycle starts, and then I stay the same for 10 days or so. Then I drop a few pounds mid-cycle, then stay the same for almost 2 weeks. When I realized that this is my body's pattern when I am eating healthy, I was able to feel good about the "plateaus" where the scale didn't budge for a week or two, because I knew exactly when to expect the losses. I hope to lose 5 more pounds this month.

Baby Robins, 7/15, 13 days old.


After I took that picture, one of the babies flew out into the yard! I went downstairs and saw the remaining two babies peeking at me:

The little guy who "flew" out was over near the garden. My daughter and I sat on the porch swing watching his parents fly around bringing him worms and encouraging him to fly. He fluttered around the yard, trying to perch on my kids' swingset. After awhile he got better at it and actually flew over the fence into the neighbor's yard! His parents flew over with him to keep watch.

The other two babies stayed by the nest and were still there in the evening.

I Had a Moment

This afternoon, I had one of those defining moments where a split second decision is desperately important. It was a moment with chocolate frosting.

My daughter had three cupcakes leftover from her birthday party, where a large pack of toddlers and preschoolers decorated naked cupcakes with pre-made frostings, candies, and sprinkles shaped like butterflies and flowers. It was a great activity for the party, and not something that tempted me in the least (because while I have eaten a batch of frosting by myself more than once, it was always homemade). I would generally say I don't "like" that canned stuff at all. So, as I was saying, we had 3 cupcakes left, and the leftover containers of chocolate and vanilla frosting sat in the fridge waiting to be used on a cupcake or a graham cracker by one of my kids. Until today.

After lunch my daughter asked if she could make herself a cupcake. I got out the cold chocolate frosting and nuked it for 11 seconds to soften it up. I opened the lid and started to stir it. And I had the most unsettling reaction as the scent of warmed chocolate frosting hit me.

That switch I talked about in my earlier post today? Yeah, that switch, I could feel it getting flipped back. The smell, the sight of the creaminess, the way the light reflected off its glossy surface. I had this sort of flashbacky type of feeling, how great it feels to eat that stuff *in the moment* and right then I WANTED IT. I felt my brain slipping into that very strange place it goes when I am about to binge. I dished a bit of frosting out for my child, and then I looked at the half-full container and I thought, "I am going to eat this whole container of frosting RIGHT NOW." In just a few seconds my head was spinning with visions of the remaining two cupcakes smothered in 3 inches of frosting; of heaping spoonfuls of thick, glossy chocolate going into my mouth; of an empty container in front of me. I shook it off and stuck the container back in the fridge, but I WANTED IT.

Parts of me battled that old familiar battle, with the same old lame arguments in my head:
I can eat that and then start over.
I still ate healthy *most* of the day.
I wonder if I can go to the bakery and get a whole cake to eat?
I could eat crap for a few days and then get back on track.
I won't lose weight anyway.
I have to eat that frosting.

I sat down and was typing a message to a friend, still having major frosting distraction, when it hit me: a split second of determination. I've talked about this before on my blog: how all you need to really succeed is a SPLIT SECOND of determination to throw out the candy bar, smash the cake down the kitchen drain, put the Doritos back on the shelf. One split second. And in that split second I dashed to the kitchen, got the frosting out, grabbed a spoon, and scooped it out into the trash. As fast as I was able, I threw trash on top of it, and stuck the loaded spoon into a sinkfull of soapy water. And it was done.

But it seemed like it took forever, and it felt like two people fighting inside me over that container of frosting. Part of me was yelling "don't do it!! Don't throw it out! Stop! Stop!" in complete horror as the chocolatey goodness plopped into the trash can. It was like on those cop shows on TV or in the movies where the drug addict's girlfriend grabs his dope and flushes it down the toilet, and the druggie runs to the bathroom, kneeling over the swirling toilet screaming, "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! How could you do that!?! What have you done???" It was like that, only I was both people. A huge part of me was trying to eat that frosting, but some small part of me just FORCED my arms to get rid of it.

Yeah, it's ideal to never put that kind of trigger in the house, but life happens. I've made a decision to let my kids have their cake and ice cream once in awhile, and not to try and stop everyone around me from eating pizza. I am responsible for *MY* behavior. And I am proud of my victory today.

Tomorrow (Thursday) will be one week since I started calorie counting and exercising again. I am excited to step on the scale and see if the results are showing yet!

Flipped Switch

I'm feeling really good here today. Amazing what just a few days of eating right and exercise can do. It's like the brain switch has flipped again. You know what I mean? It's like there are two mindsets: the eat-junk, don't-care mindset (aka "I'm Not Ready"), and the eat-healthy, love-life mindset (aka "I Feel So Great!"). When you're fat and doing the on-again, off-again "dieting", it is easy to flip back and forth between the two mindsets. Anything can trigger a switch flip, from having "just one" cupcake to looking in the mirror and going, "ARGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" It just takes a second to flip that switch, and it can take a lot of work to flip it back.

I guess for the last few months I have mostly been in the Not Ready camp, even though I was giving halfhearted efforts... and even some really STRONG but short-lived efforts... every so often. I just wanted cookies more than I wanted to lose weight, really. I mean, we tell ourselves we really want to lose weight but some days it's just easier to order a pizza. The binge-trigger factor adds in a whole new dimension, though, and even when I *really really* do want to eat right, sometimes I just flip out and start eating like a nut because of some stress or emotional trigger. But I'm working on that.

A couple of days ago I just said, enough. Enough!! I am so sick of seeing the scale go up. I have got to give this 100%. And so I started my "count calories but not the calories in fruits and veggies" plan. And I started being more consistent with the exercise. I feel so much better already.

This week I made some great adjustments and choices without depriving myself. A few examples:

One day, my husband brought home a TON of Chinese take-out. He'd said he was going out for it, asked what I wanted. I told him I'd like an order of Chicken and Pea Pods. Not a bad option... white chicken meat strips, snow pea pods, carrots, onions, bamboo shoots, and water chestnuts. I figured if I went without the rice, the oily "sauce" would be negligible. When he arrived, he brought my order... AND: ham fried rice, pork fried rice, white rice, egg rolls, fried cream cheese wontons, chicken curry, fried chicken wings, and sweet and sour (deep fried) pork. Oh man!! But you know what? I resisted. I ate my chicken and veggies and 1/3 cup of fried rice. And I was fine. Although I shudder to think of what my husband's arteries must look like. Thank goodness my kids don't like that stuff.

Another day, we went out for a special birthday dinner. I got to choose the restaurant so I picked one with fresh fish. We shared an appetizer that was made from beef tenderloin (I had about 2 oz) and then I ordered the halibut and asked the server to skip the rice, add extra veggies. I had unsweetened iced tea to drink. And then we shared a dessert: Irish Cream Chocolate Mousse. Divine! A few bites was enough for me! I went home feeling indulged but not stuffed.

On my birthday last year, my "birthday cake" was one Oreo Cakester with a candle in it. I split it with my children. In similar fashion, this year my kids took a cupcake leftover from my daughter's birthday, decorated it and put 4 candles on it (since I turned 40). After the mandatory singing and candle-blowing-out festivities, I cut the cupcake into tiny wedges and shared it with my family. My "birthday cake" indulgence was about 35 calories.

Today I got up, had my tea, and hopped on the bike. I am not especially fond of watching Sesame Street while I bike, but it kept my daughter entertained and I was able to do 6.5 miles in 30 minutes, on 4-5 resistance. Then I made breakfast: I chopped some baby pattypan squash, sauteed it in water with baby spinach, added 1 tsp olive oil and Egg Beaters, seasoned the scramble with Mrs. Dash and onion powder, and topped it off with an ounce of grated cheddar. Divine! I feel amazing. The brain switch is complete.

I know there will be times I *want* junk. I know I'll be tempted and tried with all sorts of goodies, especially on vacation this year. But I'm gonna work my hardest to stay in the healthy eating mindset I am enjoying right now and not let that switch flip back again.

Success and Jealousy

When I started this weight loss blog, I did it for *me.* It didn't matter if anyone read it, whether they liked it or not, or what anyone thought of me. I didn't care if people told me I'd never succeed or that I was doing it all wrong. I was just here to write down what I was doing, how I felt, and what worked and didn't work for *me.* The readers and the support I got along the way was a wonderful surprise, and I love how caring people are. I love getting to know people through their comments and their blogs, too.

And I get emails, sometimes, telling me that reading my blog inspired someone to start losing weight themselves. That because I could do it, they felt they could do it too. And I feel so happy knowing that somewhere out there, a few people actually changed their lives for the healthier because of something I wrote.

But I also see people surpassing me on the weight loss front, and I have such mixed feelings about it. Just like in real life, when you have a fat friend who decides to go on a diet, you feel happy for them... yet somehow a little jealous, or even threatened if they are succeeding and you're not. I've lost friends as I lost pounds because *I* was losing and *they* were not... even though I sent no judgement or negativity their way. I've had people tell me that they feel happy for my success yet angry, too, because they can't seem to lose weight like I have. And I've had friends who lost weight while I stayed fat. It's a guilty feeling when you look at your friend and think, "gosh, I feel like such a slacker now that they are thinner and I stayed fat. It makes me feel like a failure." I've even had people tell me they hoped I'd stop losing weight because it made them feel bad about themselves.

There's something really basic and human about those feelings. We can be glad for the good that happens to others yet jealous in a way because we want it for ourselves. Like the 30-something woman watching as all her friends get married and have babies... there is joy but sadness. Maybe you want it too. You wonder what's wrong with you, whether you'll ever find the right guy, whether you'll ever have a family. You feel your biological clock ticking. Always the bridesmaid...

Oh, I know there are women who don't want to get married or have kids, just as there are women who don't want to lose weight. Nothing wrong with that. But I am talking about those base emotions we all have when we see someone else achieving what we so desperately want. It's tough. And it makes us feel guilty.

I have gotten several emails, and comments as well, from people who started losing weight after reading my blog a year or 18 months ago. They've lost the weight, they're happy, they thank me for the inspiration. I read blogs of people who *started* losing weight long after I started, who have reached maintenance, who are going strong. And here I sit, still fat. Still struggling. It's hard. I am glad for them, yet it makes me ache inside. I want it, too. But I haven't worked hard enough for it to get it. Still, it gives me that same feeling in the pit of my gut... the feeling I used to have when I'd see pregnant women walking down the street or new mothers carrying their tiny babies after I'd had a miscarriage. Not that I want to take away their joy. But... well, you know what I mean.

I remember when I was still losing steadily, and I'd get emails from people saying, "It makes me so jealous that YOU have lost the weight and I am still fat!" I had total compassion for those people. I wanted to bring them along with me. But I couldn't, anymore than those of you who've been successful with weight loss can bring me along with you. We all have to take each step for ourselves. We have to do our own work.

I'm sure I will lose the weight. I know I will. And I would wager I won't be obese anymore by this time next year. Slow and steady, step by step. I won't give up. I'll cheer you on as you succeed. I'll use your success as inspiration, as many of you used mine. Better to see the success of others as motivation, rather than becoming discouraged. We can ALL reach our goals. Do the work. The results will come.

Calories yesterday: 1359 plus fruits/vegs. Biked 30 minutes (6 miles, resistance 3-4) and walked 15 minutes.
Doing great on the calories today so far. Already biked 30 minutes (6.1 miles, resistance mostly 4 with a bit of 5) and will walk to the park later.

Baby Robins, 7/13, 11 days old:

When I was walking into the house, they'd just been fed and were peeking over the edge of their nest at me. I *think* there are still 3 babies in there, but it's really hard to tell:

Today, 12 days old. I think they'll be flying the coop in a day or two:

Self-Medication

A few weeks ago, I was talking with a friend. She is naturally thin... quite slim, in fact, despite having given birth to three children and being about my age. We were talking about the stresses in our lives (there are rather unique challenges that we share, both having children ranging from preschoolers to kids in their late teens), how we are tired and feeling a bit overwhelmed lately. As we were walking to our cars, I said, "I think I need an iced mocha." She responded, "Oh, I feel that way too. But I hate to self medicate."

Interesting.

I have to wonder if it all boils down to simple self-medication. When I feel sad, or stressed, or anxious, I want to *do* something about it. And that *something* is generally to eat. Eat something that makes me feel better. Like a pill for a headache, a donut soothes my nerves, calms me down, helps me take the focus off my problems for just a little while. Like an aspirin for an ache. Like a drink after a hard day's work. Like a line of cocaine to a stressed college student.

It's all self medicating. Does everyone do it, in some form? Take care of your own pains and worries with *something*? I guess some people deal with their problems head-on, or use things like exercise or relaxation to cope. It's those unhealthy coping mechanisms... drugs, alcohol, smoking, binge eating... that are a detriment And it's the people who self-medicate to excess with food who become obese, or bulimic.

It seems unfair to me sometimes, how other people can have their problems like gambling or sleeping around or drinking to excess, and they still look pretty normal to your everyday stranger. Sure, their behaviors may lead to unpleasant consequences... bankruptcy, STDs, problems on the job... but no one walking past them on the street would know they even have a problem. No one nods hello to the clean cut man in a business suit at the bus stop and thinks, "wow, I bet he is an alcoholic." But they walk past me, and my out of control behavior is plastered all over my body. My fat rolls are like a billboard to the world: "Look at me, I can't even control what I put in my mouth." I realize that there are obese people who have some kind of health condition or whatever, and don't binge. But I also know that people look at the obese and judge. They see my weight and wonder what the heck I ate to get this big. And I hate that any stranger on the street can look at me and assume... correctly, in my case... that I ate a whole lot of junk. That my eating is out of control. That I have issues. I hate that.

But my thin friend, she recognized in herself a tendency to self medicate on occasion with food or drink. She made a decision to be aware of it and curtail it. She uses her faith, her friends, her activity to deal with stress instead. I wonder if most thin people do that. I really don't know.

It took me a long time to realize that I was eating to numb my emotional distress. But now that I am self-aware, I can make better decisions on how I deal with it.

Baby Robins, 7/12, 10 days old: