I'm just your average, everyday, divorced 38 year old girl -- overweight, tragically unhip,
and trying to make a life for myself. I live with two furry beasts, Dave and Abby, whose
feline mission in life is to choke me with their fur. Nothing special.
Saturday night. Some days are filled with thoughts about how much I've accomplished since June, how much better I feel - physically and emotionally - with less fat hanging (nice mental picture, isn't it?) around, and just generally feeling energized about what I'm doing. Today was not one of those days or, at least, not uniformly so.
Now, you'd think I'd be getting more comfortable with the hunk of lard (aka my stomach) because I've actually started massaging it at least once a day with Nivea Skin Firming Lotion in hopes of staving off the world's largest flap of overhanging skin when this little journey I'm on reaches some sort of conclusion (or I stop being able to lose weight without starving myself). I am even able to look at it in the mirror while performing said massage without being physically ill, which really, truly is progress. I think this is becoming "OK" for me because I sort of psych myself up for it. Today, while at the tailor's getting several suit jackets taken in substantially (suits that were snug back in August and one that was so tight I've been unable to wear it since 2002), I turned to the side to show Mr. Felice the freaky job the last (really cheap) tailor had done on one of the skirt hems, looked upwards from the hem and saw IT, in all ITS glory. Gack!
Unbidden, all of the familiar old stuff started in my head: You're fat. You'll always be fat. Why are you even bothering when, after months of denying yourself food, you still look the same? I shook it off and went on my merry way until I was trying on a long dress I'm going to have shortened to the knees and, again, looked at the dress in side view. Now, before I did that, I was nearly in tears of joy because of the way the dress made me feel. Once it made an appearance, I suddenly lost any interest in getting the dress altered and had to fight the urge to throw it - and everything else in the closet - in the next bag for the Goodwill after stopping at Cotija's Taco Shop to order up one of everything.
Do you know how long it's been since I binged? I don't either, but I know it's been a really, really long time. I've grazed a few times, sure, but that's small, controlled amounts of different foods. For a compulsive overeater like me not to stuff my face with huge quantities of food is a big achievement, and yet I know how fragile this little truce with my inner binge eater is. I remember, all too well, how quickly the good habits died and the weight came back on after my separation. Emotional upheaval is a classic trigger for me and Life is rife with that, especially if you're going to leave the house and interact with others, as I am now.
I didn't, and I won't, stop at the taco shop. I came home, ate my prepared lunch, drank a bunch of water, and watched some TV. I know that I've gone past the tipping point of this journey, so that it's now easier to keep going than to regress. But I'm worried...I'm scared, actually...because I looked into the face of my nemesis today and blinked. Scared is good, though. It's when I stop being scared and start taking it for granted that things stop making sense.
How can you be so cranky on a beautiful, sunny, southern California Friday?
Friday morning. There's this odd, simmering unhappiness in our department that I haven't quite put my finger on yet. I'm mystified as to the origin of the discontent because:
1. We're not working much OT, especially compared to past years (15-20 hours a week for months on end), but we're working "enough" so that they shouldn't be worried for money (their issue last year when we worked nearly none)
2. Our customers are, for the most part, really happy with our performance, so they're not inundated with unhappy people on their electronic and voice mail
3. Their quality is as good or better than last year, so they're not having to re-do jobs (always a good thing)
4. They work for a company with great benefits (including an on-site gym, cafeteria, espresso bar, pool table, multiple foosball tables, a basketball court, and sand volleyball area) and competitive salaries. They could probably make a bit more, some of them, if they went to other companies, but then they'd lose the benefits that accrue when you've worked here for a while (four weeks of vacation every year chief among them)
5. The work they do just isn't that hard. It's definitely not physically demanding, and, while it's tedious and monotonous at times, it's nothing that stretches their brains beyond their (considerable) capacity
So, I just don't get it. As I was talking to one of my senior team members about this earlier, I freely admitted that, as a brainless, spineless excuse for a human being (aka software development project manager), I could have my head firmly planted up my derriere on this one, but I don't think so.
On the fortunate side of things, it's not acutally my team members that are simmeringly unhappy, but I think that's mostly because I have the most wonderful team in the world, most of whom would never complain because they have fantastic work ethics, love their jobs, and are passionate about customer service. (God, I LOVE my team!) Unfortunately, my team doesn't exist in a void but is, rather, a part of a larger department, many of whom are very palpably unhappy.
I just want to shake them all - hard - and tell them to look up from their miserable grumblings and see how lucky they are. We live in one of the most beautiful parts of our wonderful country, where we can all disagree without worrying that we'll be arrested or censured or beheaded. They all enjoy good health, have family and friends that love and support them, and have a job where their input is not only important, it's essential for the continued success of the entire department. There are so many, all around us, who cannot claim even one of the above sources of satisfaction, and yet are positive, energetic, and filled with a zest for life - whatever it may bring.
I want to tell them to stop, just for a moment, and breathe in the sweet enjoyment of a Friday morning in November, knowing in their hearts how blessed they are and how much better it is to be happy with less than everything you've ever wanted than to be sad with more than most will ever have.
For those who've recently joined us here at "Do you have that in my size???", I add another charm to my beautiful bracelet each time I lose 10 pounds. Thus far, as you can (sort of) see, I've got the bracelet itself for the first 10 pounds (246), a cherub with a heart for the second 10 (signifying my newfound love for myself and my body), a can of mustard seed for the third 10 (from the Biblical reference "If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed...nothing shall be impossible unto you"), and, debuting today, a cloisonne running shoe from Tracy for my my recent 10 (because of my newfound penchant for physical activity). I weighed in this morning at 215.4 pounds, which is down 46.8 pounds from my all-time high of 262.2 in March and 40.8 from the beginning of the Ten Percent Challenge in early June. Speaking of the TPC, I need three more pounds to achieve my second ten percent (213), so keep watching!
Tuesday night. Last night I went for an hour long walk (3.5 miles) and it felt good. This morning, I got up and did half an hour of Leslie Sans0ne's Walk and Kick Workout (walking and kick boxing - sort of fun). These are the first instances of formal, planned activity in several weeks. I don't know exactly what's happened to me, but I know it's related to the time changing (I can't walk when I get home unless I want to walk in the dark, and I'm not always comfortable walking in my neighborhood in the dark) and to my Voices for Children classes every Tuesday and Thursday night. By the time I get home, I'm so tired that I just want to fall asleep and I just don't do the whole "get up at 5am and exercise" thing. In any case, it's a serious miracle that I haven't blimped up 10 pounds while not exercising, a fact which I can only attribute to my strict adherence to my healthy prepared meals. That said, however, their website was hosed on Friday night, so I couldn't order anything for Sunday night's delivery (I found this out after their 5pm Friday end of business) and I'm "winging it" for three days. AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH. It has not been a good thing, neither today nor yesterday. Chocolate chip cookies and pepperoni pizza have been eaten. They've been enjoyed, too, but they've been eaten. It is for that reason that I got my butt out and walked last night and aerobicized this morning. It is also the reason I will get up tomorrow and do Leslie's Walk and Jog half hour workout. Lack of exercise while strictly following a 1500 calorie meal plan with perfect nutritional balance = consistent weight loss. Lack of exercise while eating anything that strikes my fancy (or close to it) = weight gain and no clothes to wear (as I've just given away everything that's too big). I don't want to play anymore!!!
Have I mentioned that I'm hormonal right now? (That obvious, huh?)
Sunday afternoon. It's cold and grey outside and I'm wearing thick leggings, a t-shirt, and fleecy sweat shirt. I love this time of year, the cold wind combined with the warmth of the sun when it's out, and being able to bundle and cuddle up in soft, warm clothes.
More often than not in my life, the onset of colder weather brought blessed relief for me. Relief from the heat and unpleasantness of summer, and the need to wear revealing clothes like sundresses, shorts, and tank tops. Autumn and Winter were a respite, a time when I oould wear bulky clothes and "hide" my own bulk. It's not that anyone else was fooled into thinking I was anything but huge, nor, if I were being honest, was I, but it allowed me the illusion of being more like everyone else. That season is upon us, even here in San Diego, and the signs are all around.
As I sat on the couch after class on Thursday, I noticed that Abby's coat is getting a little thicker and more luxurious and I bundled myself up a little tighter in the lightweight fleece throw I keep on the arm of the couch over the summertime, idly thinking that it was probably time to pull out the heavier, quilted down throw in vibrant holiday colors that serves as "heater" in my house. (No heaters, no air conditioners.)
Just as the seasons change, though, so can people, and so it is with me this autumnal season. For the first time in several years, I am getting smaller, not bigger as I head into the colder months. As evidence, I spent several hours this morning trying on everything in both my size 20 and regular closet (everything from size 22 to 3X) and making two very large piles of clothes to be given away, as well as a third pile that needs to go to the tailors to be taken in. One pile is cheap stuff in size 24 that is definitely too big and it's going to Goodwill. One pile is the nicer stuff (including a Talbots suit and one from Jones New York) which is also too big - mostly size 22 stuff - and it's destined for my friend, Ann, at work, who was just admiring several of those very same pieces the last time I wore them. I also was able to move nearly all of the size 20/1X stuff into my regular closet because it fits. It fits! I, quite literally, wept with joy when I slid the beautiful taupe crepe Dana Buchman trousers over my hips, buttoned and zipped them, and realized that they not only zipped but were perfectly loose over my stomach. Did I mention they're size 18?
So, as we head into what is sometimes thought of as a period of dormancy, a time for sleeping and other indoor activities, I find myself invigorated and ready to take on the world. I've been given a second chance at health and a better life and, this time, I don't intend to squander it. Never doubt for a second that miracles can happen, for I am proof that they not only can, but that they do and they have.
