Gonna Get Right Back Where We're Coming From

Yeah, so I’m home on the Mac that has behavioral problems. Boss Lady let me go early today and I’m so happy.

I showed another gain today. I noticed I’m back up to the weight I was two weeks ago. I know I’ve been counting calories properly and this is some sort of water weight retention or whatever. I have to stay focused on making it through the week until I’m home on Friday night. I can’t let this upset me and take it out on a binge on Thanksgiving of all opportunities. When I get home I can restructure what I need to do to make it to my goal weight.

I’m thoroughly frustrated that I’m losing weight so slowly. My goal weight date was supposed to be December 31 and that’s so not going to happen. I won’t even be in the 130s by then. There’s nothing I can really do about it and nothing I can trace back to that says oh yeah if I hadn’t done that then I might have made it. For some reason it’s just slow. It will probably get slower as I have less to lose. This is part of the battle to not get discouraged. My goal doesn’t have to happen on such and such day because this is a lifetime change for me, I’m not going to reach one 130 pounds and try to eat a whole pizza.

I do, however, wish I could somehow reach my goal weight by February. I want to take my goal weight trip in February or March. If I wait past then it’ll be warm here and there’s a beach here and now even a pool here. They’ll be no reason to go. I don’t have the money to waste on stuff I can do here. But to go during the winter, that would be extraordinary. At the rate I’ve been going I won’t be at goal weight until April-ish and that’s being overly generous.

I’m going to be so pissed if my weight ends up back where it was before I stopped working out. I know it’s going to do it. Dammit. It’s so headed there. I mean there’s no way I’m going to get on the scale and see a 3 pound loss in a day. I’m so fucked. I should have never stopped working out. Ah, Saturday, all this fun will be over.

I was very excited about the Dr Phil show yesterday about self-esteem. I was just talking to my mom this past weekend that he needed to stop doing shows on parents screwing up how they bring up their kids and tell us grown up dysfunctional kids what to do to be at peace with ourselves. Well low and behold he did a show on self esteem complete with adults talking about things their parents did wrong. And, like Dr Phil is so good at, and I should know this already, he put it back on the adults to take responsibility for the present and not complete the work that happened to you as a kid. It sounds easy, and granted he’s have a second show next week to go more into depth about it, but it just doesn’t seem like it’s that easy. Sure I can stop beating myself down but it constantly reconfirms itself. It’s not just me doing the bashing, it just feels constant. If someone keeps beating you down at some point don’t you just lay down and accept it? I don’t know, maybe he’ll go into it and I’ll understand better.

He’s having a show today about chubby people who want to set Dr Phil straight about being overweight. I can’t wait for this show because when he first started to talk of overweight people and began the whole, “it’s a choice” thing, that I’ve sense really tried to make my mantra, I hated him. I was so pissed that he made it seem so easy. Food is a choice and it’s a huge part of it. But it’s such a roller coaster ride too, and not a fun one, and I often find myself craving a binge, even to the point of eating 18 California rolls yesterday and almost throwing up. I think 15 is my max. That may be why the gain today. It’s the weight of all that freaking rice. Not to mention the 4 cups of soup I’ve been eating a night for 3 nights now. I haven’t possibly been peeing enough to get rid of all that bulk. I still remained within my caloric range. It just seems to get worse everyday. The scale gives me a worse and worse number. After having 2 really good weeks and it’s destroyed in a matter of 3 days through nothing of my own fault. It makes me crave really having a binge, like eating a pizza or Chinese food or a pint of icecream. It makes you think to yourself well if this is what happens when I stay within my range then why should I stay within my range. I should just binge if that’s the result I’m going to get anyway. I mean how much can I gain? I’ve gained 3 pounds in 3 days. That sounds like a binge to me!

But I won’t. Not today anyway. Not right now anyway. Because there’s no point in it. It won’t make me feel better. I’ll just feel worse and I’ll have to start over.

This is Not Working Out

I think this will be the last week I don’t work out. I will most likely be back to working out on Saturday. I say this because the scale is fucking with me and you know what, you win scale, you win! Forget that my Banana Republic pants are now actually what could be described as loose (remember when they were tight?). Forget that I am The Master Of My Hunger. There’s people bloggin’ all over the place about eating this or eating that and losing weight and I gain weight from eating Noodle fucking Soup! Whatever.

This reeks of TOM but I don’t think that’s possible. That just happened, right?

Damn I’m hungry. That tangerine didn’t do a thing for me. Not a thing. I’m determined to save enough calories to eat two packs of California rolls tonight. Not quite sure why I feel the need to eat 18 California rolls but whatever, I’ll play along. [After mathematical calculations on Very Important Account Person adding maching,] Oh well, that’s never going to happen. That gives me 430 calories until 5 pm. That’s so not going to happen.

Weigh Day – Thoughtful Day

2 ½ pounds down this week. Very nice. I have been stagnating at 152 for about 4 days so I have to keep watch to make sure I don’t plateau.

I also put my ad up on an internet dating site. I’ll keep you guys informed.

Leigh wrote about me in her blog. I found Leigh's blog through my new little meter thingy, the same one that taught me why I shouldn't use the "s"-word. It's always amazing to find someone links to you or mentions you and you had no idea.

Anyway here's what Leigh had to say:

“And then there's Diet chick. I starting reading her blog because I adore the way she writes and because she tells some great stories. She seems like an incredibly beautiful person and she has a lot to offer -- brains, humor, insight... just to name a few. From the subject of her blog, however, you can probably tell that she's dieting. Perhaps it is because writing is her outlet, her way of coping -- but she dwells on her weight, her food, her insecurities, her aloneness... and I want to write her. I want to tell her she seems so beautiful, and to smile, and to live for herself because she deserves it. I don't want to congratulate her on her weight loss since she speaks about it with such disgust and displeasure. I don't simply want to give her validation.

Granted, I have never had a weight problem and cannot relate to that aspect of her musings but I think no matter what, the key is being healthy. Is crash dieting for the sake of appearance and loathing every second of it healthy?? Is being that focused on physical appearance healthy?? Well, I've said it. If you're reading this then I have said my peace, and if Diet Chick has visitor logs then she might be reading this. If so, I just want to tell you that you're beautiful and don't give up. Don't give up because you deserve to be healthy. So smile and be proud and find the man that would take you in either body -- because you deserve him and nothing less. Don't let anyone -- even your mother, or even your own insecurities -- make you believe anything different.”

I’m having a tough time with this one. This is my second attempt at a post about this entry. If I have other readers who feel this way, that I’m crash dieting for the sake of physical appearance and loathing every second of it, please let me know. You don’t have to tell me who you are in the comment thing just say you agree with Smashleigh. This is rather surprising to me. I do want to look better and feel better. I do want to be a pretty girl rather than be ignored. I do hate the treadmill, though it serves a purpose, one being a healthy body. I do hate to diet. I think everyone hates to diet. The minute you tell someone they have to stop doing something that’s basically all they want to do.

This journal is a primary “weight loss blog”. I try to post regularly (Monday thru Friday) whether I think I have anything to say or not. Sometimes I will just come on here and rant and shoot the shit just to post. God, I feel like I’m a miserable person or something and I’m really not.

It’s very frustrating to diet. It’s a tug-of-war with your head more than even your body. It really goes so far beyond eating healthy and working out more. Just because you eat healthy and work out does not mean you will lose weight. You have to really commit to losing weight and attack it with a ferocity that you’re not taking any crap from yourself. Otherwise, you’ll tinker around on a plateau and want to jump off a freaking cliff (no pun intended, ok maybe a little). I’m not playing around with this diet. I have a strict plan and goals. My goal is to lose weight. I want to wear my size 8 clothes again. I want to not freak out about going to the beach (that is 7 miles from my front door). I don’t want to feel like the ugliest girl in the room when I go to a party. I have two goals: a physical goal to wear a size 8 and an emotional goal to feel self-confident. I think these are two healthy goals. I have a strict plan but it’s not unhealthy, I don’t think, in the least. I mean, currently Lunch Buddy is not eating lunch at all because she wants to lose weight. I don’t think that’s healthy. I three meals everyday. I eat breakfast every morning. I have a large lunch to not feel deprived in any way. And I eat a small dinner. I stop eating at 7 pm so I don’t snack at night. I don’t really think my diet is a “crash” diet or unhealthy. I’m constantly monitoring my progress and making adjustments to have the quickest easiest less evasive results. I’m trying desperately not to drag this out and make myself miserable because it’s obvious I’m miserable on a diet. I’m trying to get it over with.

If it’s a matter of being unhealthy of spirit I can only say I have a damaged spirit at any weight that I’m currently working on. I feel really good currently. I don’t even characterize myself as currently depressed in any way. I think I’m in a healing phase of my life.

I do think I put a lot of emphasis on physical appearance. I totally admit to that. I can’t help it and to be honest it’s not something I have plans to change. I don’t feel that being pretty (i.e. thin) is my only concern or goal, I actually am 10X more concerned with my feelings of self worth and my struggles to accept myself (my inside self). I often go through black periods where I feel like something’s horribly wrong with me as a person (not the physical aspect). I don’t feel this right now but I’ve been under the black cloud for about 2 years and it cost me 70 pounds of fat. I honestly feel if I feel alright with my inside self, the outside self will blossom. If I hate myself, my body will suffer. If I seem like I loath my weight or my diet it’s reactionary to what I’ve put my body through for two years. I don’t feel like a completely happy person will naturally be obese. I think you have to work really hard to be obese. The only person I might slide with on that is Star Jones but I don’t really know her so it’s hard to say. She does come across like she’s really got her act together. The rest of us I think wear our fat as a symptom of something that pains us underneath. I get frustrated because I’m so ready to blossom it’s difficult to wait up for the rest of me, the physical me, to be where I am inside. Plus it’s very self conscious to be overweight. You think that’s all people see. I grew up in a family where looks are #1 concern so I carry that with me. And like you say, when you lose weight people validate you for how you look and that’s not what they should validate you for. I would love to be validated for anything other than my looks. I like to look pretty and feel pretty but there’s nothing like being told you’re funny or smart or intelligent or any of the great complements you gave to me.

Does this make any sense?

Oh, and can I just reiterate that I passed some goal marker type thing (what the hell am I trying to say) this past weekend. I’m really starting to feel like I’m getting somewhere. My body is really showing some results. Even my boobs look better.

And some boys at work noticed today! Why is it a guy looks dumbfounded if you tell them you count calories. They’re all like, “how do you do that?” A whole other world they live in, boys.

Anyway, thanks for the post Leigh and I'm glad you like my blog. You said some really great things about me and I really appreciate them.

The Pringle Debacle

So I had to break down last night and throw out a half box of Fat Free Pringles. Did I mention I had a box at home too? Little 20/20 hindsight makes it easier to see I was running into a scary place. I dumped them in the sink and washed them down the sink, ran the disposal. I went back to my Felicity show and I swear at least 3 more times I thought to myself, “I’ll just get a couple pringles. A couple and I’ll be fine.” And then I’d remember that I washed them down the sink. Then five minutes later, “Just a couple. If I could have like 2 chips I’d be fine.” And remember again. I’m a freak. A freaking Pringle Junkie.

And the Pringles at work have been calling me all morning. “We’ll make you feel better. Salty, crispy, yum. Just get a small handful. You’ll feel so much better.”

::Faint chirping sound::

Bachelor Finale

I watched the Bachelor finale last night. I’ve lost my gift. I used to be able to spot things. I totally knew the costume girl would win last year. I knew the soccer dude would win on Survivor. But this year, Ken’s off Survivor (and there’s no one left I want to win), Justin did not win American Idol, and Brooke, my little Brookie lost. Brooke’s an angel. An angel and he didn’t pick her. I can’t believe it.

But I will admit last night was the first night I watched Brooke and saw a little something. I couldn’t help but picture her at like 45 years old with some wrinkles and a bit of bloat. She’d be forced to pop anti-anxiety meds and have to sneak a couple shots of vodka throughout the day. All because she was forced to put on a happy face, never express her own feelings, always happy for Aaron, gotta be happy, happy happy. All the freakin’ time. She’d be so miserable. So I was kind of glad. Though I loved Brooke. He picked the older girl, which should make me do some sort of spinster dance, and he picked the girl who gave him shit.

And it made me think of something else too. The differences between being 22 and 27. At 22 I think you do feel like you forgo yourself for a guy. You’d put him totally first and do anything for him. At 27 you’ve been burned. You’re sick of putting yourself on the line and getting burned. You start to require things from the guy.

Not that Helene didn’t have to plaster on a smile 24-7 and fake a giggle every 5 seconds for good measure. But you could tell she had expectations. Things had to be done for her too. She had to get just as much out of it. Damn straight there better be mushrooms on my pizza. Snap.

Anyway, that’s what I think. I love these sort of shows not because I believe in fairytales or because I want to watch 25 catty girls with better bodies than me. It’s about the human condition. How humans act. How women act and what it says about them, and how Aaron behaves. Buying his own engagement ring. Kissing every girl. These tell you things that have nothing to do with fairytales or wanting to hate other women. I was practically in love with Brook myself and I don’t even bat for the other team.

Weigh-In Wednesday – Clothing

Thanks Carla

What type of clothing are you looking forward to wearing once you reach your goal weight? Size 8, Tanktops without hesitation, low rider pants, shorts, girlie dresses, anything from a boutique instead of standing around feeling awkward that there’s nothing I could wear even if I could afford the clothing.

What type of event and/or activity are you looking forward to once you reach your goal weight? I’m planning a vacation to the Caribbean when I reach goal weight. I will be wearing a bikini.

Do you think you’ll change when you reach your goal? I hope so. I’ve done this before so I know part of the time you feel free. Oh my god, do you feel free. And then sometimes you feel like you’re watching yourself in a fishbowl thinking, “You’re the same person. You’re exactly the same.” I just want to be less self conscious about the clothing I wear, less limited in what I do. I don’t expect to change radically. I just want to accept myself for who I am inside.

Internet Dating Profiles

Ok, this is the “funny” one (also known as “she's so very sad and not really all that funny” one)

Name: Homely Homebody Girl

Tagline: My biological clock ticks 4 ya

Describe Yourself: Broken hearted, overweight, non-camping, non-tennis playing, non-sports watching girl, well, aging woman, looking for qualified spider killer to raise cats and eat chocolate.

Describe Your Ideal Mate: Man with bad back who feels "trapped" indoors unless watching NBA. Must have suitable chest baring picture to accompany his misspelled profile. Alternate photo choices being holding a Budweiser in the can and rubbing old school goatee beneath his college baseball cap. Thinks being called “Red Neck” is a complement and describes perfect mate as "not too intelligent".


And this is the lame one I might use:

Name: [I can’t tell you]

Tagline: Girl in need of testosterone in her life…

Describe yourself:

A playful girl who needs to spend less time at home. I have a serious side, an intellectual side, but it’s important to me to find humor in life and have fun. I’m fiercely independent but it would be nice to have someone in my life and feel vulnerable and protected. And I’d like to feel important to someone too. I like going to the movies and out to eat. There are so many great restaurants in [this town]. I love the ocean, or any form of water really. I love to boat or sail or just hang out on the beach. I need to see more concerts, especially Dave Matthews band. I like to travel and feel a need to see the world. But really I’m a home body at heart. I love to cook and shop and decorate my house.

[bleech, horrible]

Describe your ideal mate:

I want a friend first. Someone who likes me and I like them. Someone who wants to know me, really know me, and spend time with me. And lets me really know him too. He must like to travel, both near and far, and try new things out of his element. I prefer a tall guy who’s not too thin with a nice voice and a great smile, but I’m flexible. If he’s a great person and we click there’s really no rhyme or reason, it just happens. Of course things like integrity, honesty, sense of humor, ambition, the kind of guy you’d want with you when you're wrecked on a deserted island, that’s what I’m looking for.

[Cheesy and really bad, right? And I’m not really “intellectual”, intellectual people are usually snobbish and pretentious, but I’m not stupid either. It’s a fine line.]

Help! Give me some suggestions.

There’s some stuff going on a work that I can’t really discuss but it’s making me nervous and anxious and I want to eat. I bought a can of Fat Free Pringles yesterday, like a stupid person, and I’ve been munching on them all day. I’m trying to remind myself eating won’t help my anxiety. It will, however, land me in the bathroom [humble Olestra reference to those non-fat free chip eating people].

Gotta run.

Internet Dating & Spinster at the Movies

Someone put in the Yahoo search engine “S”-word "my town" and "my state" girl and I was #71. The guy read through 71 results to get to me, click on my site, find my email, and proceeded to make a pass at me though he’s 22 and I’m 31. I’m so highly embarrassed I can’t even stand it. He could be one of my baby brother’s friends for christ’s sake. I removed references to the “S” word but you can still find it if you search it. It doesn’t go away. I really must be more careful about what I write, or rather how I word it.

I saw Harry Potter last night at the 5:15 show right after work and it was really great. I think I’m turning into one of those old hag women who doesn’t like children. When I sat down the kid further down the aisle was jumping up and down and making the seat shake. He was being a spaz and it was making me edgy so I got up and moved a couple rows back. Right after the movie started, while one lone little girl about 4 years old was wandering up and down the rows alone, a mother and three kids came in and sat right behind me. The kids were very little. One was so young that she was still learning to talk. If a book showed on the screen she would go, “book”. A snake, “snake”. You get my drift. There were a couple kicks on my chair. What really upset me was when Harry Potter got scary, it we all knew it would who read the book, the mother was saying stuff like, “I can’t watch” and her little son was giving her commentary, “he’s dead, you can look now” sort of stuff. I couldn’t help but think if a mother’s too scared to watch perhaps your children shouldn’t be watching either. There was also multiple children with colds, one little tyke sneezed on me, hopefully I won’t get sick, and wasn’t covering his mouth as he coughed. Need a shot of Vitamin C before attempting this flick. And some kids were crying and the parents wouldn’t leave. Can’t they have like adult night for kid movies where kids aren’t allowed. At least like an adult section. Yeah, I know, spinster get over it.

So it was quite a while ago, like January, though it may have been later, that I put up an ad on Matchmaker.com. And yes, I totally lied about my weight. I was hoping to meet someone and have a relationship via internet. I’ve actually had a relationship where I met the guy via internet that went rather sour, relationships via internet and mystery do not go together. I think he was married but he wouldn’t tell me, it was just weird. And he had no neck. And he never smiled. Things you can’t tell in a picture. Anyway I was hoping to met someone and chat online, like I did for months with the other internet guy. I didn’t necessarily want to met someone, I just wanted to talk, you know? Oh you guys probably hate me now because I lied on my profile. Anyway I totally got what I deserved. I didn’t post a picture and still got quite a few responses. One guy I really liked and we bantered back and forth. It was very playful and fun, which is what I wanted. Finally we decided to share pictures. I was so putting this off and decided to send him some old pictures. He was going to be ugly anyway, right?

Well, he wasn’t. He was really great. Very handsome. Perfect match to his online personality. No psychotic look in his eye or anything. I had to tell him the truth, which I did, and he said he appreciated my honesty and stopped writing me, of course. I hated myself for weeks because he probably was my dream man and I had ruined it before it ever began.

Well I’ve decided to try the internet thing again and be honest this time but whenever I start an essay I totally blank. I can’t even come up with a nickname, can’t come up with a witty one line read my profile statement, no describe yourself, no describe your ideal mate. I’m totally blank. Oh sure I can come up with a silly one that I did last night and will try to post here if it looks funny when I get home today.

So something’s wrong with me right? I’m not as far emotionally as I thought I was. I may be less closer than I was when I wrote a profile before. And why didn’t I save it? Maybe I’m just not ready. Actually I know I’m not ready. Maybe that’s what it is.

Life is What Happens Between Weigh Ins

My six month anniversary of the diet was on 11/17. It’s not an official weigh day so I won’t post the weight but as of my six month anniversary I have lost over 45 pounds. I’m very pleased. I know a lot of time I seem unhappy about my weigh ins but it’s only because I have high expectations about my weight loss that doesn’t take into account hormone fluctuations and annoying plateaus. This weekend, more than any other time, I have begun to see some real results in the mirror (that I can’t really trust) and in my clothes. I actually put on a pair of size 12 gap chinos and had to check the tag to make sure they weren’t a size 14 or even 16. That was a good feeling. I think I appear negative in my journal because I work out the negative things in my life with this journal. When things are great I don’t have much to say. When something’s bothering me I can write paragraph after paragraph to sort it out. I hope I don't come across as unhappy or that the scale is all that matters to me. It’s not the case. The weight on the scale is the best measure of weight loss. I can’t trust mirrors because I have a warped body image and clothing sizes are too slow to change (and can’t we all squeeze into things we have no business trying to get into). The scale tells me exactly where I am, exactly from where I came, and whether I am on the right track. I’m constantly modifying my diet to work the best for me. For example, currently I am not working out. This could change at any moment when I feel my results are not where I want them to be in relation to the benefits I see in not working out. Right now it works best for me not to work out. This isn’t to say I get all gloomy at the thought of walking a set of stairs because I’m Not Working Out, I just don’t don my workout gear and push myself on a treadmill. I’ve had more time inside my head in the past week than I have the whole time I’ve been dieting. I have a happy state of mind because I’m not stressed out about working out. But if I stagnate for too long I can guarantee my ass will be back on the treadmill before you can say “Guinea Pig in Nikes”.

About the "relationship" issue, I know my life has been on hold for 2 years. I’m the one who self imposed this weight/death. I think a lot about how I waste valuable time in my life waiting for this or waiting for that, currently waiting to be thin. I’m totally open to meeting someone in my head. In my heart I think I’m close to being ready but I need to take it slow to make sure I do things for the right reasons (ie – having an emotional connection). I have been out there. My brother even attempted to introduce me to his coworker at the Halloween Party but he wasn’t interested in me and walked off as soon as possible. I thought he looked like Garth Brooks and I even made what I consider to be a very clever comment that he could be my backup dancer (because I was Leann Rimes and he was wearing a cowboy hat) but he gave me a weird smile, sighed, and walked off. And don’t think I’m not aware that that was the same night that I went 1000 calories over my limit. Were they related? Or can I blame it on being buzzed? I have to be very careful not to fall back into this self destructive behavior. If that means going 2 or 3 years without sex, without putting myself out there or slowly putting myself out there with great hesitation, then that may be what it takes.

For most women who are overweight they are mostly married or in relationships and the two are mutually exclusive problems. For me, my weight and my sexual relationships (including potential sexual relationships) are completely related. They are double knotted they are so connected. Just as I don’t understand how a person over 200 pounds finds love so easily I don’t expect that person to understand why I put my life on hold when I gain weight (or rather SO I gain weight). I’ve tried to explain it but perhaps I haven’t succeeded. Or perhaps it’s not understandable because I’m whacked. But you have to realize I started out this summer in red hot tears upon trying on a bathing suit and declaring this past summer the summer I will not be going anywhere in a bathing suit. I cried two weeks ago about going to a Halloween party because I couldn’t find the right clothes to wear. This is not a girl who’s going to get naked in front of a boy. Call it superficial, call it vain, call it wasting your life. It is what it is. More so it’s self imposed from depression or whatever it is, lack of self love. It’s improving. It gets better everyday. But I know more than anyone especially during this period that life is what happens between weigh ins. Mine seems to be paycheck to paycheck, Felicity episode to Felicity episode. But more than that it’s self discovery, self improvement, travel plans, holidays, Aidan antics, the joys of season changes, starting a new book, finishing a book, seeing a great movie, finding the love of your life where you least expected.

And let me also say I love your comments even the ones that are difficult to read. They really help me to think and it means a lot to me. I especially love to be berated for half a page and then have the comment end, "I love your journal." It cracks me up.

Ti-i-i-ime Is On My Side, Yes It Is

I was totally on target yesterday. I only ate 1190 calories. I didn’t snack at work and I was starving. And yet, and yet, I gained another ½ pound. Whaaa. I was 153 dammit. It was mine!

So it’s apparent I can’t win at this. I must accept defeat and lose weight slower than a slug about to be eaten by a contestant on Fear Factor.

And hunger. Well hunger has to be a normal part of my life. Hunger and thinness. Like marshmallows and chocolate. They just go together.

So who cares? I’ll fight for this. No problem. I got nothing but time, right?

I just miss being in a physical relationship.

Oh god, did I just say that. Yes, I’m blushing, it must be me.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

The Failed Experiment

Update on the Exercise Experiment: I showed my first gain. So I guess exercise is back on tomorrow. I have to admit it feels weird not to exercise. It actually feels like I’m neglecting my body. I’d need more time to know exactly what positive effects are happening. I have noticed that I have slept through the night this week rather than waking up 2 or 3 times but I don’t know if that’s exercise related. It could be that the kitties are sleeping through the night. Could be I’ve lost enough weight to lose my sleeping problems. Could be I drink less water (ok, no water) at night because I’m not exercising so I don’t have to use the restroom. Who the heck knows. That’s the only thing I’ve really noticed.

Can’t understand my obsession with losing ½ pound a day. It just seems possible, man, but I can’t do it. Back to the ole roller coaster called Die-It and Exorcise program.

I was supposed to do this Weigh-In Questionnaire thingy on Wednesday but I’ll do it now. Thanks Carla:

Behaving

1. Let's look into the future. If you could construct the makeup of any food and make it healthy for you, what would it be and why?

That would have to be my favorite binge foods: Meat Lovers Pizza and Dreamery Chocolate with Peanut Butter Icecream. Though damn that new Chicago Pizza at Pizza Hut looks really really good.

2. Share a secret. What is your favorite thing to eat that helps you behave for the day?

When I’m really hungry I usually make a packet of Lipton Noodle Soup. It’s four cups of soup for 240 calories. That’s a lot of soup and it always makes me full. It’s not my “favorite” though but it helps in a tough time. If it’s a craving type thing and I have to chill a craving I’ll eat a bag of m&m’s (the regular sized bags). It’s enough chocolate to make me feel I satisfied the craving and don’t need to cheat yet the calories are manageable. I don’t eat them a lot. Once a week maybe if even that.

3. Redeem yourself. Do you do anything special for yourself in recognition of a job well done for the day, week or even month?

Not really. Just fitting into clothes that didn’t used to fit as opposed to outgrowing clothing is great recognition. I did make a list of rewards for each 10 pound lost but I haven’t purchased anything on the list yet. It’s just too expensive. My goal weight reward is a trip to the Caribbean but that won’t happen until at least next spring if not later.

And go visit Empress if you haven’t found out about her in my comments. She posts a lot and is way healthier than I am. She also stays up way later than I do. Must be that California time change thing.

Me, Desirable?

I just calculated my BMR and got a 25. It said, “Desirable”. That’s the first time I’ve plugged my figures into anything and received “desirable”. Not “obese” or “at risk for health problems” (which really is scarier than being tagged “obese”).

Funnily enough I look exactly the same. Sure I can wear a size 12 and can’t wear a size 16 and look ridiculous in a size 14 (baggy ass syndrome) and wear a 36B rather than a 38C bra but take all that away and look in the mirror and I have the same body. Body image perception is very strange. No wonder I could gain all that weight and convince myself that I didn’t look any different. I’ve lost a shitload of it and still look the same. I’m so sick of being in the 150s I can’t even stand it. It doesn’t even feel like the 150s. I thought I’d feel thinner at this weight. I still wouldn’t be caught dead on the beach for all the tea in China. Well, unless it was sweet iced tea. Then we could talk.

On the Dateline show last night about Al Roker, he said losing weight was like a sonic blast. The sound moves through, like you lose weight, and then you hear the blast, you notice the weightloss. He hasn’t heard the blast and neither have I.

I don’t know I just feel like the 140s will be different. Then I’ll really be coming into a weight that’s thin and not overweight. I just don’t want to be overweight. And I still feel overweight. I thought it would be different now. I thought I would start to feel normal. 155 could be 195 and I’d never know the difference.

The exercise experiment is still going remarkably well.

Miss Hide Hyde

I suck at science, can ya tell?

Ok, in my Experiment my hypothesis is that I will lose the same or more weight than I’ve been losing exercising. Even better but less measurable I think I’ll be of healthier state of mind. I hate to exercise. I curse it, I loathe it, there’s nothing about it that I like. I don’t like the clunky binding shoes, the bondage sports bra, the sweat, the faint smell of metal my hair takes on, the tingly feeling in my feet, the bored gerbil feeling, the way I sigh and act like a big baby about it, the way I slip or accidentally hit the side and do this shimmy shake that freaks me out because I fear falling on the damn thing, none of it. And it’s not because it’s a treadmill. I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to walk outside, I don’t want to run, I don’t want to hike a hill, I don’t want to join a gym, I don’t want to take aerobics, I don’t want to ride a horse or play tennis. I want to have a clean house and hang out with my cats and maybe not have to rush to eat dinner. But mostly I don’t want all the pressure. Get on the treadmill, gotta get on the treadmill, gotta eat now cause I gotta get on the treadmill in an hour, put on your shoes, you’re getting on the treadmill now, I don’t care if the cats are cuddling, get up, your getting on the treadmill, gotta work out, gotta feel trapped, do it, do it, just do it…

And I’ve not worked out since last Thursday and I’ve lost 2 pounds.

Not that I’m stopping completely. It’s an experiment. The moment my weight tapers I’m starting back. I just want to see what happens for a week.

In Other News

Mom likes to tell people that I’m “taking my time” losing weight to “do it right”. I mean kudos for the support mom but I’m not trying to take my time it’s just happening that way. If I say something to her, like I did the other night at Saltworks ironically with grilled salmon, corn, mashed potatoes, and cole slaw in front of me she says, “Well, you aren’t starving yourself. That’s what I mean.” And then I say, “Starving yourself doesn’t work. I started my diet at 700 calories a day. I stopped losing. It’s a fact. I tried it.” Like I was trying to convince her. What the hell is the matter with me? What’s so wrong with “doing it slowly” meaning healthy normal-like diet behavior. I’m actually contemplating going back on a starvation diet just to get this miserable 20 odd pounds off of me.

I just feel really antsy. I’ve gone back to biting my nails. I thought I had that habit nicked but fuck I’m sitting here with bleeding cuticles.

And I’m seeping back into debt. $20 here, $20 there. A piece of furniture (though mom was my furniture junkie), a couple entitlement purchases on-line, a trip to VW service department and whammo, sister you are back in debt. Not to mention the two weeks of normal expenses being put on my credit card (because I'm an Important Accounting Type Person can’t do her own check book and blames it on being a blonde). It’s just like easy or something to pop out the old Platinum. Lookatme. I gots the Platinum and I’m not afraid to use it.

It must stop. It all must stop.

So after my little exercise get-it-out-of-your-system experiment I’m getting serious. Not starvation but serious rid yourself of twenty pounds diet. I can do the twenty pounds thing. I’ve lost 20 pounds so many damn times in my life it’s not even funny.

Science Experiment

I’m performing a scientific experiment. This has no emotional connotation, it's simply scientific in nature.

The experiment is a one week long experiment that answers the question of whether one needs to exercise and curse the machinery that ruins one’s bedroom décor in order to lose weight. I am ignoring said vile treadmill for a period of one week to see how much weight is lost without furrowed eyebrows (gaining more unnecessary fine lines) or nasty attitude that results when time for workout. Poor Nike tennis shoes. I’d hate to be you. So far I’ve lost 1.5 pounds in 3 days. As a reminder this is simply a scientific experiment, conduct your own if you wish, so please don’t interfere with my scientific meanderings and give me “water weight” theories and so forth.

Weigh Day

Up 1.5 pounds. Dammit.

I had a whole little rant going on about my weight gain this week and Blogger ate it. Now the rant has past and has lost it’s fire. This is all TOM related, unfairly, unjustly, whatever. It is what it is. I have recently increased my workout intensity to 3.7 for the entire ½ hour. I’ve been right around 1300 calories all week. I did take off Tuesday from working out due to TOM but worked out on my sick day despite not wanting to. Technically I’m supposed to be able to maintain at 130 pounds on 1400 calories without exercising so you can tell my body is being really cruel this week. Damn this really sucks. The last day I weighed was Tuesday morning and it said 154.5. It’s really shocking. I was really not expecting it. I wasn’t expecting anything big only to maintain what I had as of Tuesday, which was only ½ a pound. From now on I’m weighing every day. I don’t like shocks like this. Must get M&M’s now.

Morbid

Oprah had a show on about obese people yesterday. The true lives of morbidly obese people. I throw in “morbidly” because I wasn’t “morbidly” and that makes being 199 pounds seem reasonable or something. Funnily enough at 199 pounds my life was exactly the same as the 350 – 400+ women. I knew I was on that road. I would read blogs from women 250 pounds plus and think that’s me, I’m going to be there one day. So I stopped. I refused to wake up 250 pounds. Or more. All that doesn’t make being 199 pounds any better. It’s a very high weight for me, despite my bizarre body image that thought I looked pretty much like I do right now in the 150s.

Oh, there’s so much about the show I wanted to comment on but it’s making me scattered. Anyway, the second half of the show was on people who lost weight. She had one lady who lost 300 pounds in a year and she DIDN’T exercise. This blew my mind. I thought for sure you’d have to exercise. She’s like a science miracle or something.

Oprah often talks about when you want to lose weight you have to fix what’s going on in the inside. I talk about this from time to time trying to figure out exactly what it is that makes me hid behind fat and self medicate with food. I think it’s a combination of things. It’s not something that I can write on an index card and carry around unfortunately. But what it comes down to is self love and feeling worthy of having a good life. Feeling worthy of a healthy body and a beautiful body. A beautiful spirit. I have immense fears of rejection. I've been thinking about my history with men. Some hurt me but no worse than anyone else gets hurt. Some truly hurt me. And some just disappointed me. And with each one, before the inevitable breakup or after, I gained weight. With each new prospect or yearning for love, weight loss. Isn’t that what’s occurring now? I’m losing weight with the idea that once I’m thin I’ll find love and have the life I always imagined. Isn’t that what scares me because I don’t want to lose control of myself?

Oprah also mentioned the sense of death when you’re overweight. This is totally true for me. When I’m overweight I shut my whole life down. I don’t even want to do anything because the stress of finding what to wear and how I’ll look freaks me out. There’s a little taste of that from my Halloween party entry. Normal people don’t start crying three times before a party.

I’m not exactly sure what to do with this information. So I have a fear of rejection that cripples me. Is recognizing that and feeling self love all that’s involved? I don’t know, it’s just weird. I feel like there should be more to it than that. I suppose the true test is when I enter into a relationship.

The Drug That Doesn’t Work

I need to bring lunch that has to be prepared. It’s too easy to just reach over and eat some chips or have a half a sandwich. I know this because I’ve done it. Most of my lunch was gone by 10:00 am. I know it’s a matter of willpower and that’s what I’m enacting on myself to not delve into the second half of my sandwich until noon. But my stomach knows food’s about and it’s growling and twisting like it hasn’t eaten for days.

I've been thinking about getting a book on compulsive eating. I don’t want something that says why yes you are a compulsive eater. Now you know so stop doing it. I’m not a stupid person. I know food is fuel and not for pleasure but at the same time it is for pleasure or we’d all be sitting around munching broccoli, singing campfire songs. I want food to be pleasurable. What I don’t want is food to be evil (Evil ½ sandwich, evil! Die, Die!), some drug that doesn’t work, because really after it’s all said and done, it’s not really worth it. I guess that’s the thing to remember. It doesn’t work. It has to be the shortest term pleasure ever. I spent 20 minutes last night preparing dinner. It took me about 5 minutes to eat it and another 10 minutes to clean. Can someone explain to me why I would possibly cook every night? No wonder Microwave popcorn is such a booming business.

Now that it’s November and I’m still feeling the dull why-oh-why feeling that September was a waste losing only 4.5 pounds the figures for October are (drum roll) 5 pounds for October. Granted it was the second week in October that I made some adjustments, increasing workout intensity and setting daily calorie high at 1299 calories. And on November 17 it’ll be 6 months on the diet. I would have really liked to have lost 50 pounds by then but that’s too high a goal. I was also supposed to be 150 pounds by October 31. This is the slowest diet in the history of the world but that’s okay. If it weren’t for September and October I’d still be in the 160’s so who’s complaining. Not me. At this rate it’ll be the end of March before I’m at goal weight. I gotta say I’m not happy about that. But I’m not thinking about that. Right now I’m only thinking about being 150 or 149. Wow, 149 would be so super cool.

Poor Ana

I was watching the Dr Phil show I had taped on anorexia this weekend. I find it amazing how much I can relate to a person with anorexia even though I’m a binge eater and they don’t eat at all. I can still relate to a lot of it, the pain behind it. The obsession with food. And when Dr Phil was speaking to her he kept reassuring her in a way he’s never seems to do for overweight people. The shows on being overweight are all about, “It’s a choice. You make the decision. Stop eating. This is about you.” And it took me many many months to be able to do just that even though it is my motto now. My biggest fear is I will fall back into it and start binging again. I don’t feel control over it. I have control right now. I can’t tell you whether I’ll have control tomorrow or even later tonight. It would be extremely easy to fall back into it. Easy to eat. And with her, he was so understanding and told her she didn’t have control over it, etc and it started to hurt my feelings. It’s hard to argue the point now because I’m doing exactly what I should be doing making proper decisions and staying within my caloric range but it wasn’t always this way. And I didn’t feel like I had a choice. That Dr Phil diet episode was many many months before I got to this place where I could started dieting. It’s a sad sad lost place to be.

And I say this because I came across this journal, oh about a week ago, and the girl was binging and felt no control and told her mother and her mother didn’t get it and she felt very out of control. I felt for her. I knew her pain. It could very well have been me.

So I tried to tell my mother this weekend how I felt about how anorexia and binging are so much the same but seen as different. Binging is seen as a matter of control and anorexia is not. She didn’t agree. I couldn’t argue really because I’m not anorexic so maybe it IS different. And I didn’t want to get into exactly HOW I used to eat. I’m not trying to make anorexia seem less serious, I just want binging to be more serious an issue. I don’t think people who binge are treated in a serious manner. I think they are just seen as lacking self control. And anorexia, well, that’s the height of self control, right? It’s easy to sympathize with one who shows such self-control. Isn’t that what they’re selling on the Ana and Mia sites?

Mom said anorexics can die. I said obese people can and do die too.

She never agreed with me and we agreed to disagree. This as I was eating my very dry egg sandwich in a restaurant that serves the best biscuits in town. I’m easily defeated in such a setting.

And then I came across this on my Yahoo News Page:

''In this country, if you have an alcohol problem or a drug problem, you can get treatment,'' says Roker, 48. ''If you have a weight problem, it's lack of willpower: 'Just push away from the table, tubby, and you'd lose that weight.' But you can stop drinking, you can stop sticking a needle in your arm. You cannot not eat.''

Weigh Day

I'll take it. One pound after the week I've had, sold!

My Friday Five post about Religion