The
Diabetic’s Challenge
December 18: The ultimate challenge for me is being a diabetic. No,
I’m not talking about eating too much. I’m talking about eating too little. I
have to take this insulin and if I take too much, my blood sugar drops. I
really have trouble finding out the right amount of food to work with the right
amount of insulin. When my blood sugar is low, I have to eat more, and that
pushes my caloric count up. It’s a double danger. If I exercise, the same thing
happens. My blood sugar drops, and I have to eat more to bring it up. I wish
there was some sure-fire way of getting this thing right. It’s driving me
crazy, and I am sick of it sabotaging my eating habits. It’s not enough for me
to quit bingeing, although that’s always a struggle, but I now have to deal
with this diabetes thing. I get so frustrated but I’m not sure I can beat this
one anytime soon.
Skyrocket
No Scales
December 19: Don’t blame just me for being fat because I have a
legitimate reason. I slid into the world weighing ten pounds. I have a family
history of fat people, too. Besides, that most of my life I’ve struggled with
weight loss no matter how little I’ve eaten. I was never skinny, and I haven’t
always been binger either. I’ve never seen food as entertainment like many
people I know. There are many factors that contribute to weight problems for
those people without skinny genes in their history. A dieter’s greatest enemy
is those persuasive people. My mother used to cook great food and expect me to
eat it. Cooking was part of her self-esteem and to have someone tell her that
she’s cooked something great made her feel ten feet tall. She doesn’t cook
anymore, and I’m not around to eat it anyway. And I must not leave out my
husband. He’s the world’s worst. If I didn’t know he was a kind man, I would
say he’s trying to sabotage my diet because of his need to feel good about himself.
Imagine that. He insists on cooking but refuses to prepare the meals so I can
eat without those scales sliding upward. In fact, yesterday I begged him not to
make Brownies because they’re my weakness.
He
and Mom aren’t alone in their cooking self-esteem issues. Aunts, Grandmothers,
friends, and even people who’ve invited me to dinner parties expect me to eat
their cooking. It’s impolite to snub a cook by not eating her food. "Just taste
it," she or he will say. It’s a personal affront. They’re always so proud of
their culinary talents that they forget about my weight war. "Here have some
cake." "Here, have some pie. It’s delicious." "Oh, there aren’t too many
calories to make you fat." "Oh, one won’t hurt you." These are the same people
who turn around and carp about fat people.
Kiss
Off Bake Off
December 20: Today, I’m wrestling with my own culinary delight. My
favorite thing to bake is sweet potato pie. To bake or not to bake. Every
Thanksgiving and Christmas, I struggle with whether to bake these wonderful
pies. I’m afraid the weakness might get a hold of me this year. I haven’t
bought any ingredients, so if I forget them, that will solve my problems. It
would be better if I forgot how to make the pie. That won’t help, I know.
The
Ultimate Weakness
December 21: My next greatest weakness is Russell Stover chocolates
that everybody used to hand out at work and at parties. I use the excuse that
it keeps my bowels open. They also make me less depressed on when I suffer from
being "just a little purple." I’m not buying any Russell Stover
candy, and I’m not going to any parties. I don’t work anymore because of
disability. A good thing about not eating this sugar-laden candy is that it
won’t run my blood sugar up. Being a diabetic, I can ill afford such thing, not
to mention that it wreaks havoc on my weight. Chocolate is poison for me
because I’m too weak to resist bingeing on it. It’s like a drug. I’m addicted.
I’m addicted. I keep reminding myself of this, and it helps me to fight off the
urge. If I go a month without chocolate of any kind, I’ll reward myself with a
music CD or a comedy CD.
Stymie Sugar Holiday
December 22: I will not buy any sugary holiday food at the grocery
or the bakery today. I will not buy any sugary holiday food at the grocery
store or the bakery today. I will not buy any sugary holiday food at the
grocery store or the bakery today. I will not buy any sugary holiday food at
the grocery store or the bakery today. I will not buy any sugary holiday food
at the grocery store or the bakery today. I will NOT buy any SUGARY holiday
food at the grocery store or the bakery today.
Last
night on 20-20, I saw a man who once weighed over 500 pounds, and today he’s at
200. That surely inspired me. If he can lose that much in two years, surely I
can lose a hundred pounds by then.
Buy
No Evil Things
December 23: If my husband buys and cooks sugary holiday foods, I
will refuse to eat them. If my husband buys and cooks sugary holiday foods, I
will refuse to eat them. If my husband buys and cooks sugary holiday foods, I
will refuse to eat them. My one problem is that he already has Brownie mix in
the house, and I’ll have to kill him to keep him from baking those. I don’t
want to go to jail, so I’m stuck with using will power not to eat any Brownies.
Cross
My Heart and My Stomach
December 24: I will not eat any Brownies today. I will not eat any
Brownies today. I will not eat any Brownies today. I will not eat any Brownies
today. I will not eat any Brownies today. I will not eat any Brownies. I will
not eat any Brownies today. I will not eat Brownies tomorrow either. I will not
eat Brownies tomorrow either. I will not eat Brownies tomorrow either. Cross my
heart, but I won’t hope to die. It’s Christmas Eve, and my husband didn’t feel like
making brownies; I didn’t have to suffer while watching him eat them. It’s so
much easier when he doesn’t bake them.
Heaven
Help Me
December 25: Dear Lord, please let me have a good day today. A good
day is a day when I don’t overeat Macaroni and cheese, dressing and turkey,
greens, potato and chicken salads; chocolate, walnut, and red velvet cakes;
sweet potato, pecan, and apple pies; crescent rolls. Please let me eat small
portions of the less fattening food. Let me skip those appetizers of chicken
wings, and the snacks of peanuts, fried zucchini; peanut brittle, chocolates,
chips and dip.
I
know this is a lot to ask, but if you can see your way clear to help, I will be
eternally grateful. I need this sensible eating as much as Philodendrons need water.
Thank you in advance.
We
decided not to make a feast for Christmas. It’s just two of us, so we made a
minimum of dishes, a turkey breast, dressing, potato salad, peas, apple pie,
and I ate four small portions substituting carrots and pear cubes for dessert.
Crush Cookies with a Cause
December 26: My refrigerator door has a magnet that pulls me to the
door for the food beckoning. "Come on in; the food is good." Food is my friend
when it nourishes my body with goodness from the Earth for healthiness and happiness.
I love myself when I eat right, but I hate myself when I eat junk food because
I know it would wind up on my derriere. When I feel weak I leave home for a
safe place but strangely I end up somewhere that temptation is great. It’s
similar to an addict chasing crack without planning to. "I ought to just blow
up the refrigerator," I mumbled, "or build a shrinking machine. Wouldn’t that
be cool?" I could patent it and make millions. Then I could go to one of those
Club Meds for Weight Watchers, and later join an exclusive fitness club. Isn’t
it strange what money does? It buys loads of conveniences…conveniences I need.
Let the Sunlight Roll
December 27: Oh! to hear the murmur of an ocean wave rushing and
rolling, caressing my mind. Oh! to step into the shafts of sunlight, passion
flowers and orchids! Oh! to be thinner. Oh! To be normal weight again. I closed
my eyes and float to a safe place where I could imagine weighing my ideal
weight of 160 pounds. That’s fine for me because I will have lost half my body
size at that weight. I’m still grateful for having lost 50 pounds, but sorry
that I regained 10 of them. I go to a place where the gulls fly over a
beautiful ocean, a place where the sand is white, or a place where I can sail
on a yacht. Sounds of droplets softly pelting the foliage trickle gently on the
leaves and fern. I stop dreaming and water my plants. I don’t know what name
they are. So I call them Ruby 1, Ruby 2, and Ruby 3.
Imaginary
Skirmishes
December 28: It is sunny outside, but we are expecting a major ice
and snow story tomorrow. I’m not looking forward to it. I spend too many days
hibernating as it is. No, I don’t always hibernate because of the weather. My
pain keeps me inside, and my physical appearance makes me not want to go
outside. I feel like people are staring at me all the time. I believe that my
imagination might be at play here because I’ve never really observed anyone
staring. The feeling is there, and that is enough to warp my psyche.
Write
Off that Gluttony
December 29: Every day I write myself thinner. Through writing I
psyche myself up and psychologically change my weight. Think thin is my mantra and daily message.
I focus on thinness and what it takes to get there. When I’m focused, I don’t
eat unnecessarily. I’m watching football tonight, and I’ve had six shrimps and
six bite-size cranberry shortbread cookies. I know I wasn’t supposed to have
them, but psychologically I am getting the sugar out of my head. I’m not
punishing myself just yet. I am working toward making that commitment and
teaching myself to eat sweets in moderation. If I succeed I will have conquered
my biggest weight loss faux pas.
I
didn’t have to worry about overeating because I lost my appetite in this
historical game between the New England Patriots and the New York Giants. They
unbeaten Patriots finished the season with 16-0. If the Giants had won I
would’ve celebrated. I hate the Patriots because I don’t like Tom Brady,
although that long touch down bomb to Randy Moss impressed me. He missed the
first pass, and Brady simply ran the same play twice. Randy caught it the
second time around. I
know, I know. I wasn’t supposed to have the cookies, but it was football, and I
got hooked on sweets because the game was a good one. That’s how we get fat. We find any excuse to celebrate
with sweets and other caloric foods. My weakness, as I’ve said before, is
sweets. I could live on them, but I’m steadily pysched myself into believing
that I don’t need them or like them anymore. For now, moderation of sugar is
out. I don’t know if it will ever be in for me. I switched to sugar
substitutes, and that helps but then I hear that they’re bad for me.
Beating
Back Addiction
December 30: I got off track yesterday and ate more than my
allotted 1,200 calories. It was the scallop potatoes. My husband makes the best
ones ever, and I love them. Instead of eating my one serving, I went back for
seconds and thirds. I was so shocked that I forced myself to spend the evening
writing in long hand rather than on the computer as I usually do. I hate
writing in long hand, but I had to think of something to keep myself in line. I
wish there was another means, but until the scales show a no-loss or a gain,
that is it: Punishment. I remember when I lived in Moline , Ill.
Letting
My Soul Sing
December 31: When I grew up, we had this thing called soul food. I
thought it meant to eat until your soul sang, but now I know that soul food was
all about love. Love of family, love of friends, and we showed our love by gathering
to have a hearty meal. It is a tradition of blackness. Now, some of us are
turned off by soul food while we eat heartily of Italian and Mexican foods,
which are just as fattening and they have just as much salt. Soul food
consisted of pork, which was salted like brine to keep it fresh. Greens were
seasoned with pork, and so were black eyed peas and pinto beans, soup, and who
knows what we didn’t put pork in. Now the healthy among us are using turkey or
chicken in our greens and black eyed peas. Some of us use Splendor instead of
sugar for our sweet potato pies and our peach cobbler, staple desserts. No,
soul food isn’t out-of-date. It’s here to stay. But I’m not sure that most
families are still honoring the food for love ideal.
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