Taking
Back My Power
February 1: I admit that I am powerful over my choice of food.
Emotional eating takes a back seat to positive food choices. I eat small
portions in several mini meals a day. I avoid chocolate and other sugar laden
desserts. I am on the path to a healthier me. I am powerful in making decisions
about food.
A
House Filled with Food
February 2: The greatest challenge for me, aside from the exercise
setback, is living with my husband who eats all the time. Our house smells like
food from breakfast to bedtime. I sign off eating early in the evening, but I
wrestle with the temptation to eat until late evening. It’s difficult to
overcome emotional eating. Sometimes I’m hungry, but I won’t eat. But smelling
food makes temptation stronger. I believe smelling food encourages me to eat
more so than hunger pangs do. (My husband is getting better now that he's stopped eating late night. Hurray)
I
Am the Enemy, Not Food
February 3: Food is not the enemy. I am the enemy. Food is the
enemy only when the choices are bad. I am the enemy if I make bad choices. I
write to the rhythm of music, and it’s music that calms me, reducing the urge
to overeat. The right food is very important. Each day, I must go down the pyramid
to decide the healthy choices of meat, fruits, vegetables, whole grains. And I
must drink plenty of water. (I'm still working on the water drinking)
Never
Cry in My Milk
February 4: I’m feeling good about myself now. I’m developing
self-confidence, a necessary ingredient in weight loss, because without it,
I’ll lose the battle of the bulge. It is time for all good dieters to jump up
and shout if they have confidence in themselves. Twenty years of therapy have
taught me that confidence is a mainstay for staying on a weight loss program.
Climbing
High on the Mountain
February 5: I want to live high on the mountain with all those thin
people dancing around in my head. I want to see that thin woman that’s inside
of me. If I pull, no, when I pull this off, it would be the greatest feat of my
life (aside for falling in love and childbirth). I’m not about to lose anything but fat. Whoopie.
Time
Is a Huge Enemy
February 6: Time stood still, it seems, while I gained weight, but
it isn’t standing still during pound sticking. We all know how important a pound
is to a heavy person, and a day is just as important. Every day, we mess up
leaves us with another day to feel bad about ourselves. Every pound is like a
hundred pounds but if we live long enough, we will get there. The years
past and the pounds accumulate. Days and months go by, and we avoid looking
directly in the mirror. I remember many days of passing the mirror and turning
my head. I didn’t want to see what I looked like. Now I force myself to glare
at me, so I’ll remember that when I try to put some poison in my mouth. Yes,
I’m calling bad foods poison now. I can do that as long as I’m not depressed, a
time when all rational thinking flies out the window.
I’ve
always been surprised with every new pound as if I’d been eating carrots and
celery all month. To keep from feeling bad about myself and feeling anxious
about the little or meager gains, I don’t weigh every week. I only weigh when I
see my doctor to keep the depression at bay. Losing and gaining is such an
upside down cycle that it is likely to make me eat more. I can pretty much
determine whether I’m gaining or losing weight long before then. When I am more
prosperous, I intend to buy an electronic scale. They’re expensive. But I still
will not weigh every week. It’s tempting but I will not.
The
Mirror Never Lies
February 7: Every day I stare in the mirror at my breasts
and wonder what size I’ll be when the weight falls off. Will I have a big butt
still? Will I have a D cup? I always had large breasts, and they didn’t decrease with the first fifty
pounds. I’ve been a D cup so long I couldn’t imagine what a C would be. Thank God I never had to consider breast augmentation.
I’ve
had wide hips so long that I shutter to think of the new me. I’m sure I will
need therapy to finally accept myself because inside I will still feel fat. I
kid you not. It happened the last time I lost sixty pounds, and now I’m going
for 120 pounds total. Imagine that. Half my body size. With that fifty I lost,
I have 110 more pounds to go. Whoopi. Mentally, I’m already there but I still
cannot imagine what I will look like at that size.
Write
to be Thinner
February 8: I write myself thinner. I focus on thinness and what it
takes to get there. When I’m focused, I don’t eat when I’m not supposed to. I
am in charge of what I put in my mouth. I am powerful in my choices of foods
except for my inability to tolerate some fruits and vegetables, which I love. I write in my notebook that I’m
important, loving, and special. It helps me know that I don’t need food to
prove any of this.
Fat
Is an Injustice
February 9: Today I’m bitter. Bitter just for today. I hate hearing
people say they eat what they want because some of us cannot. These people who
have their way with food eat troughs of food and still stay thin. What kind of
justice is that? I keep fat stored like I have an elephant’s diet. It simply
pisses me off. With the new year in progress, I get bitter because I know that
most people who eat like me should never have had an obesity tag. With the
exception of highly depressed times, I never overate and I was always on a diet
– albeit I cheated sometimes. I never loaded up on steak and potatoes
regularly, and I never ate until my stomach bulged and hurt at Christmas and
Thanksgiving like some people brag about. True, I haven’t always been consistent
with good eating patterns, but I am now. And I intend to keep it up – small
portions of everything that’s healthy – meat the size of a card deck and
sometimes less, small amounts of carbohydrates such as potatoes, etc., plenty
of vegetables and fruits that I can tolerate. No more than one carbohydrate at
a meal. I don’t eat bread with dinner, and I eat whole wheat bagels or oatmeal
for breakfast.
Bitter Days Come and Go
February 10: I am bitter because I am fat, because I was born fat,
and because I haven’t had the pleasure of eating all those rich foods that most
people eat. When I was a child I didn’t eat rich foods because we barely had
meals. My parents had too many mouths to feed. I think about that, and it keeps
me from overeating. When I’m bitter, I am reminded that everyone's body is
different, and that’s why my food plan doesn’t seem to work as others’ do. My
husband and I eat the same food, but he
doesn’t gain weight. Yet, if I eat the least bad food for a couple of weeks,
I’ll gain ten pounds. That’s why I’m bitter for today. I don’t want to eat
anything I want. I just don’t want to look like I do.
Exercise Isn’t Always Fun
February 11: I haven’t always been inactive as I am now. When I am
more prosperous, I am going to join the Y so I can get water exercises that are
easier on my arthritic knees and fibromyalgia – a neuromuscular affliction that
causes the body muscles to hurt all over. I do all I can with the floor
exercises, and I’m getting more creative with the chair exercises.
But
I’m going to get some water exercises, which will be fun with the exception of
having to wear a bathing suit. I’m not thrilled about that. It will be a
challenge for someone who stays cooped up in the house for weeks on end. I’ll
wear some sunglasses to keep from noticing the staring people who don’t know
what it’s like to be obese. They can then stare and wonder why I’m wearing
sunglasses. Now, there.
Bookstore
is a Haven
February 12: I was at the bookstore, and I ordered a mocha
frappuccino. The lady punched in the amount and started to make it when I said,
“I’ve changed my mind. Let me have a blackberry tea.” I was reminded of the
danger of drinking a coffee-like drink with over 500 calories. I think that’s
what’s in them. I didn’t need to activate my reflux, a side effect of being
overweight. I get this flutter in my chest, and I belch so much that I can
barely breathe. Coffee, spices, citrus, acids – that are in a lot of processed
foods and drinks, etc., make me feel like my heart’s coming out of my chest. I
had eaten a pear before leaving home to ward off the need for something sweet
at the bookstore, and the pear kicked in the reflux. It was a blessing because
this saved me nearly a day’s calorie consumption. I love the bookstore; it
keeps me sane.
Death
as a Thin Person
February 13: When I die, I’m not going to be fat unless I die
tomorrow. I will rest in peace and go to heaven as a thinner person. I am
powerful over my food choices, and I will eat only what’s necessary to obtain a
healthy lifestyle.
Valentine
Isn’t Just for Chocolates
February 14: It’s Valentine’s Day, and
I bought myself a rose instead of chocolates. I’m proud of myself because
normally I’d buy a box of chocolate and eat most of them in one sitting. That
was during the bingeing and depression days. I’m proud of myself. I still crave
chocolates though. It will pass. How long will it take? I don’t know. Some people
say, “Eat it in moderation.” There’s no such thing for me. I have to purge it
from my system. It is cruel to avoid the things you love but once I convinced
myself that they don’t love me, it became easier to skip them. I avoided going
down the grocery and drugstore aisles with all those valentine hearts filled
with chocolate. These are my favorite things, but every year that I bypassed
them is a year that I convince myself that they’re not all that important.
While not eating chocolate, I spent the time sending out valentine cards to
people I love and people I thought could use a lift because I believed they
wouldn’t get a loving note for valentine. (My husband bought me a fancy water bottle, and I love it. Beats candy)
I
also bought a beautiful floral mug with valentines all over it. Every time I
think about candy, I’ll use this mug and my water bottle to distract me from it. The mug is a stark
reminder of Valentine’s Day and all the candy it represents.
Feb. 15: write some
prose with this. Go bye Valentine’s Day. You never loved me anyway. Or you
wouldn’t indulge me with your fudge bars while I try to forget you.
Before I Die
February 16: There’s a movie out called “The Bucket List,” and it
got me to thinking about what my list would include. First and foremost, as you
might’ve guessed, is to get thinner. I mean to lose half my weight of 300
pounds. I want to smell more roses, and be without pain for a few days a week.
I want to be a kinder person, and I want to live without anti-depressants and
anti-mania drugs. I’d love to visit Paris
and Africa . I’d still love to buy my mother a
house, but that seems a little lofty considering that I don’t own a house. I’d
love to publish my collections of poetry, short stories, and a memoir. I’d love
to write a novel or two. My list keeps growing, but I try to keep it simple
because I don’t have as much time as I used to have.
Living
Life Over
February
17: If I had my life to live
over, I’d paint rainbows on a canvass and marvel at their beauty. I’d bake
bread for others but eat more vegetables. When the sun fades and the moon
rises, I’d watch with pride and respect rather than haste time away with
fretting. Oh, yes, I’d enjoy the smell of percolating coffee, garden dirt, the
freshness of snow, musty air, and a spring shower. I would love life more and
enjoy its fruits and never bemoan any losses because in hindsight I would have
the option to pick up the pieces and move on. I wouldn’t worry because I would
have lived through the worst hurricanes and heartbreaks of living. I would live
as if tomorrow isn’t promised – for it isn’t.
If
I had my life to live over, I’d spend more time as a mother because I would
raise my own child. I’d pick more berries and spend time digging in the dirt of
my flower bed. They tell me it is therapeutic. I’d write a book before I got
old enough to worry about how it would turn out. I’d eat more ice cream before
lactose intolerance and weight gain struck. I’d eat better healthy foods. I
would pray for fewer deep depression days. I would read the Bible every day and
exercise every day. And I wouldn’t let other people live rent free in my brain
space.
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