A week ago I was up a couple pounds, which didn’t depress me this time. I used it to do some examination. I think I’m maturing–it’s about time! Its about balance. The right amount of exercise with the right foods for me.
More important than those things though is attitude. I’ve been feelling better about how long it is taking me to lose this weight. This week I took measurements and then I calculated how far I’ve come. When I was 242 lbs. my hips were 48″, my thighs 27″, my waist 38″, upper arms with 14 1/2″. At 202 my hips are 43″, thighs 23″, waist 35, upper arms 13. That is a total of 14 inches with the little I lost in my bustling. This is why I’m in a size 12 instead of the 18+ I was in a few years ago. I can be proud of where I have come.
A friend I have made through Weight Watchers just made lifetime. She didn’t have nearly as much to lose as I do, but she said something really important that I have to remember. She had to do it her way. I added something I thought was pretty profound–I HAVE TO KEEP DOING THIS THE REST OF MY LIFE SO IT HAS TO BE SOMETHING I CAN LIVE WITH. yeah, I can stay focused that way.
There is $144 in my savings for my ultimate goal wardrobe. Every week if I lose weight I put a dollar for every 1/10 of a pound I lost. If I gain that’s my fault–I don’t get the money back. When I’m done, I get a weekend in my favorite city to buy new clothes. ALL BY MYSELF!!! That’s worth working for.
This isn’t my first blog, but hopefully it’ll actually be one I can keep up for a while. Everyone on this planet is a work in progress, an interesting catch-phrase that basically means life goes on. Some of us reach a point in life where we look into the mirror and we decide we don’t really like what we see. For some what we see might be a visual thing, for some it might be a personality that has developed because we just let ourselves be molded by the crashing waves of life. Hey, I like that. My youngest is into ceramics these days so that image works for me. A blob of clay left to be punched and pinched without any plan for what it is to become will likely be coarse around the edges, shallow where it needs some density and thick where it needs to be sharp. In the hands of a potter, it will be beautiful.
So, this is where I found myself about seven years ago. I didn’t like the visual in the mirror–I was up to my all time high of 242 pounds. What I didn’t realize at that time was that weight had little to do with eating too much (which is the direct cause and effect principle) and a lot to do with allowing food to soothe the hurt by the harsh winds and waves of life. I ate if I was happy, which wasn’t really often, when I was depressed, which was quite often, and when I was lost, which was way too often. Food was a substitute for living life and being part of reality. It’s a pretty lame substitute at that. I tried to lose the weight with exercise and dieting at home and that didn’t help at all. I finally bit the bullet and joined Weight Watchers for the first time.
I say for the first time because I have very poor self-discipline. When things didn’t go my way I grew up learning to blame everyone but myself for the things that didn’t work right. My father set the best example of that. The problems he had were never of his own doing. It was always a boss, his kids, his wife–the most wonderful woman alive or some scattered entity that was bent on destroying his happiness. Children are sponges; I learned it was okay to blame everyone else. Waves crashed in and made quite a dent in my psyche. I lost a little and then gave up because it wasn’t fast enough. Tried on my own a little, gained more back. Tried South Beach–all I did on that was gain. Tried Jenny Craig–expensive cardboard food–yuk! Gained weight on that, too because I still didn’t reach the bottom of the problem.
For the second time I went to Weight Watchers. Lost more that time but we went through a string of leaders and I kept feeling more and more lost, unable to make any personal connections. I am the sixth of seven children. I spent my entire life not being special to anyone. I was either one of the kids or one of the girls, never me. And when I tried to be ME, I was wrong for wanting to be the center of attention. So, somewhere along the line I bought into the line of nonsense that my feelings, needs, wants, and thoughts were unimportant. Water erosion leaves little pits that can cut right through to the heart of the clay and weaken it from the inside. So, once again I left Weight Watchers, having lost twenty five pounds in a year, but thinking I could do it all by myself.
A year later, twenty nine pounds heavier, I realized where the problems really were. I was faced with a workmate who was insufferable. Like looking in the mirror–a personality I couldn’t tolerate, one that reminded me of patterns I had developed. With a rude awakening I went back to Weight Watchers understanding that this wasn’t about my weight, it was about me. I needed to fix something inside of me that was eating away inside.
The pitting that occurs with erosion can allow further damage when stuff like sand or little bugs get into the deep cavern and start wearing away tender places. Then a bump or a jarring can cause whole sections to break away. The human psyche is just that fragile, although we’d like to believe it is not. I needed to explore many of those little wormholes into my spirit. It had worn me out in forty eight years of life and I needed to restore the inner child. She needed to be healed.
So, accepting that I had eaten myself into this most unhealthy state I sat, once again, in the Weight Watchers meeting room. But this time it was different, I had really looked in the mirror. Its not that I didn’t like what I saw, I just realized I’d let the ocean mold me instead of taking control of who I would become. Regaining control is probably the greatest step anyone can take toward repairing the damage of erosion. I’m not quite halfway there and I’m struggling still. Working out the first twenty years of abuse in my life is an ongoing job. I doubt it will ever completely end. The second phase of my life was wrought with challenges that until I stopped to look back at them, I never realized how successful I had been. How I had done better than the people who had always told me in so many ways that I was failure. I’m going to be just fine, and when I reach my goal weight I’m going to take a few weeks to settle into the new body and decide which part of me I need to work on next. One day at a time–pinching, pulling, smoothing out the clay until I decide it is ready for the kiln.