Ode to last night

Ahhh, blissful. Yesterday afternoon didn’t start particularly auspiciously. I had sent myself a “to-do” list home and when I contemplated completing it I felt tired, hemmed in. But also accountable. It was also colder than Monday and this niggling voice in the back of my head kept repeating, “Well, you blew Monday. It was a perfect day for exercising and yard work and you just sat on the deck like a beached whale and then watched a movie inside, beauty squandering idiot.” (Ha- no wonder I feel beaten before I even start!)

I went out with the dogs and I thought, before I get started, I’ll eat dinner. Then I called the woman off the internet- she’s a lapband patient who said she had the contact info for a nurse in Victoria who did fills. I can’t/won’t have the surgery without a reliable contact for fills, so I called her. She called back right away with great info, alas no mythical fill nurse in Victoria. But she did invite me to attend a lapband patient support group tonight! I’m excited. One step closer, plus it felt great to cross off the most important item on my to-do list.

But the question of whether to exercise kept rearing it’s ugly head. I’d just eaten so I started yard work. It wasn’t on my to-do list but I suddenly had a realization- Skittles would continue to destroy the grape hyacinths with her running and they are in an exceptionally pointless spot- middle of nowhere surrounded by grass- so I can’t mow there, weeding is pointless and Skittles is crushing them. Why not just dig up as much of them as I can and transplant them?

It was harder work than I’d thought, each batch required careful digging to preserve the bulb and I almost filled up an entire wheelbarrow. Then I went over to an established but sparse flower bed, weeded it and started planting them. They look a bit rough, poor things, they’ll need TLC.

By then it was late, it took a good 2 hours to accomplish all of that. So I decided that with those plants gone I could cut the grass in the backyard- I’d been holding back because I didn’t quite know what to do with that corner. Wow, what a difference the mowing made. Everything seems so much cleaner, clearly delineated. I just didn’t like the overrun edges and corners.

When that was done, I reseeded, watered and then decided it was time to wind down- it was 8:30. So I pulled out my yoga mat and did some easy hatha poses for about 45 minutes. The sun was going down and a lot of the time my line of sight was pointed right at our weeping birch. The air was still. The sky was charged- maybe rain, maybe not. There was a strong breeze on my bare feet- but not cold. I felt like it was just me and the trees.

I let go of the idea of doing a really intense workout and stopped the voices of complaint- I had done good, I had done enough. I deserved to wind down with a gentle stretch and that was all I needed after all my squatting and digging.

After that Kevin and I went into the hot tub and then we went to bed.

I'm a human being, not a human doing damn you!

I want to write this all down so badly. But I feel as if there’s always someone right around the corner, or peeking over my shoulder. (Because I am at work, after all!) But I also really, really need and want to connect to myself again. I’ve been feeling a bit adrift, lost in work mode which is a shut down version of myself, and I don’t want to lose that sense of self I have on the weekends this week, I want to hold onto it as long as possible.

Yesterday, after finally feeling in control of things, I lost control. I worked all day off-site and at lunch had four beers with pizza with friends. It was a long, relaxing lunch. But it threw my whole day off, self-care wise. First off, the lunch wasn’t filling. Second is the drinking. So I had two protein drinks after work, noshed for the rest of the night and had no energy to workout. And even, somehow, inexplicably, hurt my lower back?

I feel like it was a loss of control because it’s not what I planned to have happen yesterday. I planned to go home, workout, garden and go to sleep early. Instead, I got home, couldn’t read, watched a movie and went to sleep late. Pretty much the exact opposite of what I’d planned. Which is okay, on the one hand, but I didn’t get anything productive done. And I had lost some weight and gained it all back in the space of one frigging day!

Other things that are causing me anxiety, too. I look at my yard and I see a wasteland. I secretly hoped that I would turn out to be a gardening whiz, but alas by garden looks really sparse and overgrown with weeds. And yet I am spending so much time out there. Everyday the weather has been nice I’ve been out, puttering, and I feel as if I have nothing to show for it. There are weeds everywhere. And my flower gardens in back are so blah. I don’t have enough flowers and I can’t afford to buy more. I am trying to tell myself that this is a foundation year, that I will be building on the work done this year for future years- but I don’t see any progress and I hate not seeing progress, it makes me feel unhinged.

And then there’s my bike. I bought the electric bike and road in traffic. I am so glad I have an electric bike for traffic. But it needs a tune up and new tires, natch. And they can’t even take a look at it until April 30. FUCK. I wanted to get started and build my routine- a new routine, a new way of being. It’s just one more thing I am waiting on though.

And then there’s the lapband surgery. Have to wait until August for that. And I have to wait to find out the contact information of the nurse in Victoria, who does fills and then get in touch with her and get a go-ahead. If I don’t have anyone to do my fills, there isn’t any point.

And while I’m complaining about waiting… waiting for progress, waiting for change, waiting for, I don’t know, peace, resolution, let’s talk about waiting for those things in regard to my weight. Have been working out more (not last week), have been trying to reach a balance with eating and drinking, dare I say it, I had been doing well. And I saw some progress last week, a tiny budge in the scale. But when I tried to go shopping for some new clothes, nothing fit, I was between sizes and everything was just “off”- can’t quite describe it. Just that everything was either too big, too small and all of it was unflattering. So it was a waste, in every sense.

I feel like I am on the brink of some change- but also that I am squarely where I always have been and always will be. The free floating anxiety I feel, I think, is related to this idea in my head that if I can just grab hold of all the things I want to do and get them accomplished I’ll feel at peace- comforted by the fact that I have taken control of things. But on the other hand, I wonder, am I just fooling myself by thinking I’ll feel better when it’s all done? The pile will always be there, after all. But even as I write that I rebel, because I want all of those things and I want to do them myself, I don’t want anyone else to do them for me, I want to feel that I accomplished those things. I started a new routine of riding to work and around town. I got my garden looking neat, organized but also whimsical. I changed my weight with lapband surgery, I changed my life. Maybe all that anxiety exists because this something I feel driven to do?

Another glorious day

Yesterday took a turn for the rainy so I ended up cutting short my outdoor plans and reading instead, it was relaxing. So very relaxing. This four-day weekend is heavenly!

Except for one thing that's niggling at me. Am having a perfectly good night, have not binged all day, have not felt the need. In fact, I even turned down an opportunity to overeat. Then, we're watching a movie (the day the earth stood still- whoa, crappy) and I decide I want something sweet. We don't have anything sweet in the house. So I make toast. Four pieces of fucking toast. Slathered in butter, two with PB, 2 with honey. I mean come on. I told myself it wouldn't have happened if I had something sweet, but really, I didn't even believe that then, I certainly don't believe it now.

I could go on about that moment, but what's the point, I'll let it float into the ether- my best guess is that since I had been reading all day and kev asked me to watch a movie with him I said yes to make him happy and be close to him, but I really wanted to continue to read. So that feeling, of wanting to be close, near, involved and my desire to continue reading created a fissure- discomfort. Rather than express myself either way, I joined him for the movie (I also felt pressure because of the late fees and my stiffening shoulders). Something to think about for my next post.

Speaking of which, in my last post I said that I needed milestones throughout my day. I often feel as if I hit that 4:30 milestone, go to the gym (feel wiped clean) or home (feel disappointed in me for not gymming it) and then I have this sense of now what? We don't have cable anymore so I can't watch TV, I often feel too tired to do much of anything- or not so much tired as unmotivated (what's the point) and I end up going off the rails food and drink wise.

But as I was waking up this morning, I had a vision of myself that appealed to me. It was 8 pm and the sun was still out- just setting. I had an incense stick going- a big one and I was doing yoga and pilates out on the deck before bed. Nothing strenuous, slow, sinuous movement, hatha style. I was getting strong but also winding down, slowly, on my own. The minute I thought of it, I loved it. I loved the idea of future me, the me who doesn't use food or alcohol to relax- the me who is un-kinked and has a practice. Something she does, regardless of whether it's perfect or too slow, or too fast or not enough- it's something I do every day, just for me. No one is watching or judging, especially not me. And here's the thing. It has to be outside. On the deck, sometimes on the lawn. It cannot be inside. I'm inside all day, all the time. The whole point of this is to be outside, surrounded by trees, shrubs, birds, nature, quiet. I am in love with this idea. I want it to happen. I need something to bring me back to myself. Will begin tonight.

Before I go, must say I want to revisit the need for intimacy by doing what someone else wants and my anxiety about biking to work. I want to be the kind of person who bikes to work, but like all big things that I embark on (for me anyway) the more anxious I am, the more I need to do it- it's been the pattern throughout this journey. I was a nervous wreck before getting my regular bike. But the journey of learning to ride again, building up my strength so I could ride for 22 kilometers in hilly terrain, then riding with the dogs alongside me was very important. I took back a part of myself I had lost to being fat- to shutting down, to a nervous break down I'd had for over a decade. Biking to work is the next step. And I know that. I don't bike on my regular bike as much as I'd like because of the dogs- I know skittles loves to ride alongside and runkie likes to be in his basket, but it's so much work! (it's hard to control skittles and when other bikes come by she's a danger to them and herself so it's not exactly responsible dog ownership- and runkie in the basket is like having baby beluga hanging off the front of my bike). So biking to work is a guilt free way of getting some biking in, getting to work, getting some exercise, and being in my body for a period of time every day without having any competing needs/responsibilities. I mean, I have to get to work, don't I?

Yesterday was a great day, today will be, too

I didn't expect yesterday to be so great, but it was. After I finished up my post I took Skittles to the park and tossed her ball around for her. I also climbed up some playground equipment. I liked using the bars to climb up- I didn't even do that as a kid, too scared! Then I came home and did a kettellbell workout. But by then the clouds had blown away and the sun was out and it suddenly got warm- about 60-65 degrees! The timing was perfect, I was already in my workout clothes and committed, so I went out on the deck. I had my ipod on, and I could see neighbours through the trees, kids playing in forts but I didn't let the idea that people would see me doing something new, stop me. I just went for it.

I did 48 swings, 48 snatches, 48 crossbodies and then some other stuff that's a bit more advanced-mostly calisthenics (pushups, planks). It lasted an hour and today my legs ache- in that good way that lets you know you accomplished something. But I even feel it in my shoulders, my upper back, my calves. The only thing that doesn't ache is my core- I was too blown to do any pilates and by that time I brought Runkie out on the deck and he wanted to cuddle. I decided the universe had decided my w/o was finis.

I wanted to go out on the deck and do some pilates and yoga today, so I don't stiffen up, but its raining. I can already see though how much more appealing exercise is when you can do it outside. Hopefully the weather will improve soon.

Anyway, after the workout I took the dogs with Kevin to see a friend and her dog. They played, except for Runkie, he doesn't really consider himself a dog and finds their doggie ways tiresome. We came home, I read on the deck on my chaise lounge (love that thing, will love it even more now that I can use it more) with a glass of wine. Around six I started making my prawn risotto (delicious) and then I went to M's house for a visit. It was so good seeing her, she gets me and I get her; and she's the only person who really knows what happened at ABC – she was there and got just as burned. Thank god we didn't have to go through our ABC period alone, she really pushed me to see it wasn't me and I hope I reminded her that she was (and is) a good person.

Bike related news flash

In other news, I contacted someone about buying her electric, pedal assisted bike. She's not in town until Thursday, so I'll have to wait. I love my regular bike, a lot, but because I am who I am, I don't feel entirely comfortable riding it in traffic. It's quite hilly here in Victoria- you notice it the most when you're cycling. Plus, when you're at an intersection and need to signal a turn and keep pedaling it's fucking hard, I always feel like a gimp because it's hard for me to start and stop because of my knees, so if I can have a bike that gives me some power, then why not? I can start riding to work like I've always wanted. That will be awesome. No more smelly loser cruiser for me!

I haven't worked out the shower thing after I ride to work- but I got my hair cut on Thursday (love it) and it's pretty easy to style and I have a locker at the gym at work and I've showered there before, so I'm over that particular hurdle. I just don't look forward to having two sets of everything. There's a hair dryer there, but I need a straightener.

But none of that is a deal breaker, I can make it work.

Let's get all planny in here

So it's official, I plan on getting the lap band in August. I called to book the surgery. Kevin and I are discussing the pros and cons of staying an extra day, as I hate flying. As I write this, I am trying to get the information about a nurse here who does fills. But I can't get into the WLS forum. Fuck. I'd like to get that settled. If I can't find someone close by to do fills I might not be able to do the whole surgery.

Post-op eating. I think the first while can happen quite naturally- you can't eat normally and you feel full and it's the honeymoon period so your okay with liquids and then purees. My concern is after the honeymoon- when I'm doing solids and the novelty has worn off and I really want to blow off some steam. Then what? But that's why I'm doing this. Because I want/need some restrictive mechanism in place that can stop me when I can't. It was scary to see that despite losing all that weight and enjoying that weight loss so much I gained 20 lbs back, and so quickly and easily, because as much as I liked being thinner, I wasn't able to stop myself from coping with food. Despite everything I'd learned about nutrition and my body- I still reverted back. So my thinking is that if I have something in place, something bigger than just me I can let it do the work. Let it keep me in check. God, I'd love to eat everything in sight, really I would, but I can't, I have this lap-band, you see, and…

Your best friend for bingeing

Onto other topics, I'll get planny later, I have also been noticing, of late, that when my gf's really want to pack it away, drinking or eating wise, they call me. So, okay, they eat compulsively, too and maybe I've gained a reputation for being "up for it." That last sentence in the paragraph above got me to thinking of this. I feel pressured lately to eat with my friends, to join them in their eating/snacking/drinking. Drinking I usually want to do and don't need to be prompted- though I wasn't always like that. But eating, a lot of the time I would prefer to peck and stick with my goals, but I don't want to draw attention to myself. I don't want people to think I am getting ahead of myself, or "uppity". I know, I know. Everyone has to have this conversation with themselves at some point, especially if they're a big girl, and, they're trying to lose weight. I know I can't, shouldn't, eat to make my friends comfortable with their choices (I guess I also don't want them to be uncomfortable, there's nothing worse than when you really want to chow down and the other person is pecking, you feel like you're out of control). And I know it's not my job to make anyone else comfortable with their food choices. But then again, part of being friends is shared experiences and I always fear missing out on those moments. I didn't really have real friendships until the last couple of years and I like the intimacy of those moments of hedonism where we've almost made a pact to enjoy the food on our plates to the point of debauchery ;-)

But when I have the surgery, I won't be able to join along. I will have one glass of wine, maybe some cheese or meat and then that's it. I can't eat and drink like that anymore. Am I sad to miss out on those pleasures? Yes, of course. But I am also sad to get dressed every morning and find my clothes are too tight. And I remember how it felt, those fleeting days when I was a bit thinner, and picking clothes was fun, and I want that pleasure back.

Back to the bike

The other thing I like about the idea of the bike is milestones. I'm getting better at removing myself emotionally from work- detaching. And I find I break my day off into chunks. Right now it's as follows:

• Morning Chunk: Get up, get showered, have breakfast and head out. This is mostly pleasurable.
  
  • Ride bus to work. I don't hate the bus by any means, but I can't relax. My face contorts into what I hope is blank passivity (long standing issue of mine- controlling my facial expression). So the weird thing is, even though I bring all my focus to relaxing my facial muscles, I also end up feeling stiff and as if I have been clenching my jaws for hours. Plus, being crammed in next to another person makes my shoulders ache (can't relax).
    
• Morning work chunk: Blah blah blah, must make it to my first milestone, 10 am coffee
  
  • 10 am coffee, walk outside, cool air zinging, brisk walk, coffee, a little piece of realness in a fake world
    
• Lunch- second milestone- catch up with the girls. I would like to take walks but I feel tied down to lunch. Another time.
  
• 3:30, third milestone, definitely a lesser milestone. Have my 3:30 snack. It isn't as nice as coffee but it signals the beginning of the end of the work day.
  
• 4^th milestone, work ends, time for gym. Sometimes its hard to go, sometimes I don't. But I do it because I feel cleansed afterwards, purged of all that silliness of the day and back in myself, feeling whole.
  
  • Bus ride home, face hurts
    
• Home- now what?
  

But if I rode a bike to work it would be more like this:

• Ride to work on bike. First milestone. Don't have to worry about my face. Listen to tunes. Zoom through cool morning air, warmed by pedaling. Only my thoughts, clear headed, quiet, reflective, at peace.
  
• 10 am coffee, second milestone, walk outside, cool air zinging, brisk walk, coffee, a little piece of realness in a fake world
  
• Lunch- third milestone- catch up with the girls. I would like to take walks but I feel tied down to lunch. Another time.
  
• 3:30, fourth milestone, definitely a lesser milestone. Have my 3:30 snack. It isn't as nice as coffee, but it signals the beginning of the end of the work day.
  
• Fifth milestone, time for gym. It's always better when I go to the gym, even better than skipping out and heading home. More of a milestone.
  
• Sixth milestone. If I've been to the gym then the roads will be less congested, I will have to build up endurance to w/o and be able to ride home, but I think I can do that pretty quickly. I'd have to change my routine to do less cardio and less weight for a while to build up my capacity, but within a month or two I could be back to 1.5 hr workouts followed by a ride home. I could amble along, take the long way home. It wouldn't be exercise, rather, a pleasure. My own time, to myself, feeling scraped hollow by exercise. Will probably have to learn to manage hunger and start drinking more protein shakes again so I don't come home ravenous.
  
• Home- now what?
  

Note to self

Next time I need to address "home-now what" major issue with my bingeing.

Recommitted

Yesterday's calories: 2500

No exercise

I think we have or hopefully, had, (emphasis on past tense) some kind of virus yesterday. So we didn't accomplish much. Kevin and I both felt kind of tired and torpid the whole day and aside from getting some chores done, we didn't do much else. Total pajama day.

But today, well, I have big plans for today. I want to take Skittles to the park and toss her ball and then come back and do a kettellbell workout.

Before I start getting all "planny" though and mapping out my day in detail, I need to share more about this recommitment.

In early August, I have scheduled a lap band surgery. I did the research and I have waited for two years for the gastric bypass as my back-up and this year, having gained back 20 lbs due to compulsive eating (exercise is on target) I feel like I am at a cross roads. I could wait another two years for a bypass, I could continue to try and get to the root of the compulsive eating and "stem the tide" or I could take more drastic steps. Trust me, I don't like the idea of taking drastic steps (and yet I kind of do, for their definitiveness) but either way I just need this to end, soon.

Gaining back 20lbs has been hard. I know it's attributable in no small part to the situation at ABC and how betrayed I felt. I know NN's behavior made me feel unsafe, I know my new job contributed to my sense of "there has to be something wrong with me" and all of that resulted in a lot of turmoil. And that turmoil got to be unbearable, especially after I started the new job and felt that the red mark against me had followed me, because "there's obviously something wrong with me."

So I ate. My portion control slipped away, many of the habits I had developed were tested to their limits, pushed past effectiveness and then just dropped altogether. The new ingrained habits with food that I thought would be with me forever morphed back into my old habits. So subtly. I still use skim milk, but I used to avoid all processed foods and sugars, (even fake sugar), now I'll dump a splenda in my coffee and when things are feeling a little crappy I'll get a muffin- even though I have a healthy snack back at the office.

I was still exercising (I did go through a period of inactivity, too). But the exercise couldn't take the brunt of the overeating and just ameliorate it. So even though I am fit, I am getting fatter and it's hurting my joints A LOT to be working out as much as I do, with 20 extra pounds. It's almost as if I have the fitness capacity of someone who is a very fit 250 lbs (unusually fit for that size, not bragging, but I do workout 3-5x a week for 1.5 hrs) with 20 extra lbs strapped on my back at all times. My knees are especially feeling it.

That and there's the matter of clothing. I don't know what size I am. I do know that it's not the size of most of the clothes hanging in my fucking closet, that's for sure. It is beyond upsetting to get ready in the morning and realize my boobs don't fit into my bra, they're spilling over and if I tuck them in to avoid spillage, my nipples are in a weird spot. So I have the unenviable decision to make: nipples very askew, or check throughout the day for spillage and adjust as needed. Yes, I could get a new bra, get fitted and try to make this work, but here's the thing I learned when I weighed less: There comes a point where my bra size gets so big that comfort, support, control, shaping are no longer options- when they're this big a bra just serves to contain them, it can't really deliver on all those other things most women take for granted with their bras. (I have ordered new bras, but since I am so large busted they have to be ordered via the internet and they're on back order- oh, and they're expensive). But when I weighed 250 lbs I did have those options and I felt so feminine and refined, and I miss that so much. I miss slipping on a bra and watching my boobs take on the classic feminine shape of breasts. (They're so big they sag without support, even at 250).

But getting back to clothes. My clothes don't fit. I have a camel toe once again because my pants are all too tight. A lot of the stuff I had from Ricki's, my cute sweaters, don't fit anymore. My tummy is much too big, it muffins up and spills out way too much. I am so depressed about it I don't feel like going out and getting new pants and tops. I am mad, I had finally started amassing a wardrobe I liked and was proud of and now I can't wear it. I can only wear the weird clothes on the margins. Great.

When I weighed less, for the first time in my life I felt like I was part of the "girl world". I took pleasure in finding clothes and dressing up. I felt pretty for the first time. I knew that people thought I was fat, very fat, but I felt as if I'd accomplished something and for the first time I had a sense of confidence and "okayness" that I thought no one could take away. Sadly no one did take it away, I mean no one outside of me. I took what happened at ABC as a confirmation of my secret fear that there was, is, and always will be, something that is very wrong with me. I know this belief is a direct result of all the sexual abuse I lived through as a child and when you add in the sexual issues of the situation, it, of course, makes a lot of sense I would feel as unraveled, exposed and unsafe as I did. In other words, betrayed and used.

When I look back on it now I see their machinations as plain as day, and I see my own culpability and humanness (Oh no, I called my boss a useless pants load in an e-mail, evil!!!! And I took a day off during the sexual harassment investigation and lied and said I had a stomach flu, gee, that's just totally inexplicable, couldn't imagine a person feeling stressed that their co-worker had said some disgusting shit to them, lied about it and was being investigated and the other person [me] needed a day away from the office!) but man, they knew exactly how to push my buttons and manipulate me. My fear of authority, my need to be accepted and loved, my desire for validation- exploited.

But it was an experience that taught me something very valuable, about myself, about life. And I think only now am I starting to take it to heart and apply it and integrate it into my personal system. Work is not an extended family. Just that. No one there is really your friend, a family member or replacement for those things. Sometimes you'll make true friends, but that's not why you're there. When I started at NIF I told myself I wouldn't get caught up in the social world. I'd keep to myself, and I didn't. I got very close with Ad, Lady and T. And I don't regret that. But because I was still traumatized from ABC I think I turned it into a very co-dependent relationship without healthy boundaries. So when I leave there, I really will follow my own advice and keep a distance between me and my colleagues.

The bad side of that friendship is that I reinforced their emotional struggles with the system, and they did the same for me. We reinforced the belief with each other that there should be some kind of common code of decency, and we waxed in vain about the lack of compassion and respect with which we were treated. We shared our personal humiliations about un-tolerable situations and behavior and comforted one another. And unfortunately, there were so many examples of callous and unthinking behavior we never ran or will run out of material with which to commiserate. Nothing wrong with that, right? No. Not really.

And yet, yes. There is something wrong with it. Because we just spin our wheels. We're powerless, and we know it. And we sit and discuss the things that happen when someone with power wields it over us and we feel shitty as a result.

But there's a freedom in the situation that I hadn't quite grasped until now.

We are powerless. And we know it.

I was always so busy trying to get a little power, so I could insulate myself against other people's power struggles, that I bought into it all. I cared when they swung their dicks around and slapped me across the face. I thought it meant I was weak, and they were demonstrating their power and I could either be a sniveling victim, or swing back (or just lie in wait until I could swing back!).

I'd get stepped on, used and most upsetting for me, anyway, have my time royally wasted (in this job anyway). And I kept trying to make it right. I kept trying to make them see me as a person, I kept trying to stand up to them, I keep trying to do the work the way it should be, thoroughly, I keep trying to own my work, to have integrity and actually teach them to treat me with respect. I kept trying to change the system.

Which is a losing battle. Not to mention arrogant. As if I could change an entire system! As if I could make someone who is 50 years old see me as an expert! What hubris! Who cares. If she wants to burn herself out and take all my decision making, autonomy and "expertise" from me, then so be it. I don't need it. Do I even have expertise? I don't know.

I am powerless. And I know it. And I'm embracing it. I'm not fighting it anymore and I'm not going to try and make them see me as someone who could run with the pack- I don't care if they accept me now and I don't have any desire to get them to ask me to join them, to recognize me as competent.

And it's not coming from a place of malicious obedience (you want a briefing note, I'll give you a fucking briefing note, cuntasauraus). No, I will continue to deliver on responsibilities. I will turn my work in on time and make it as good as I can. But I won't care anymore. And I don't mean "won't care" in the toddler temper tantrum sense. But I won't be attached to the outcome. One thing this position has taught me is humility. Invariably, what I send in will be sent back with 30 incomprehensible changes. One or two may be valid (imho) the rest pretty pointless. And from there on in it will continue, back and forth, back and forth. Late. Out of date. Not timely. And then pushed through into action. And that too, will change again and again and again and so I will spend most of days doing, then undoing the same thing, over and over.

Because the reality is, I am powerless. And I know that trying to change the system is a losing battle. And I don't have the time or energy to wage that war anymore.

Now that I have given up (it's a new thing) I feel better. I have to fight the bad moments, when common sense grips and I wonder why I am doing and then undoing and then redoing the same thing, over and over. But then who cares? None of the stuff we do actually matters. So who cares if one project is particularly shitty over another? It's all just pensionable time!

So what does any of this have to do with my desire to recommit? Everything and nothing. I am ready for a change, I am ready to stop putting energy into my professional life (altho I am taking a certification course next year) and I am ready to take care of myself. I have been avoiding taking care of myself because my thoughts go something like this: if they don't care about me, I will make them care about me, notice me and respect me and when they do, I will, too. That's no way to live. I can't handle that for much longer.

I'm taking matters into my own hands. I am devising a plan. I love plans. I want an electric bike so I can ride to work and get over hills and feel safer in traffic. I want to have that surgery in August. I want to start offering myself some thing soft when I get home from work so I don't feel the need to binge- something pleasurable. I want to make this belly a little smaller so I can fit into the clothes hanging in my closet. I want to have more energy. I want to do that course next year. I want to start trying to have a baby in the new year. I want to enjoy this. I am recommitted to me. And right now, that means exercise and safe, trusting relationship with food.

Plans for today:

Skittles- park

Kettelbell w/o

Look for electric bike or converter kit for my bike

Find nurse who does fills

Hem curtains

Make soup

nails

Over and Over like a monkey with a miniature cymbol

So right now I am in the unenviable position of feeling as though no matter what I eat, it leads to weight gain. Eating sensibly leads to weight gain and being out of control leads to weight gain. Right now, all food seems to be the enemy.

Whenever I eat, especially at night after work, I have this voice in my head saying, “You keep gaining weight. It keeps creeping up, you’re working out but your portions have slowly started getting bigger again. And no matter what you do, you keep getting fatter. So you might as well enjoy this meal, the weight gain is inevitable.”

The end result is that I have an epic struggle with food- should I eat a small, healthy meal (bland, pointless, will only eat more later anyway) or should I just have exactly what I want in the quantity I want, especially since gaining back the lost weight seems, ahem… inevitable?

Sometimes one side wins, sometimes the other. But one thing is certain, I do keep getting fatter. And this argument in my head is driving me over the edge.

# 1 “You keep gaining weight”- well this is true. I do keep gaining weight. Since last year I have gained about 20-22 lbs.
# 2 “It keeps creeping up”- also true. At first it shot up to 258, then 263, 265, 267 and now it’s around 275. The number keeps going up and I keep trying to stay calm.
# 3 “Your working out” – I am w/o and I have seen more muscle tone and definition, but my eating is undermining weight loss. Scarily, if I weren’t working out I would probably gain even more weight.
# 4 “Your portion sizes have slowly started getting bigger again” – also true. Since I started gaining weight I have found my portions, especially in the evenings and now even at lunch, have gotten larger. But then I ask myself if a sandwich and veggies is too much? I don’t think so. But… It seemed like my portions were smaller at BCA. Dinner is definitely bigger. And junkier. When I was losing weight I used to leave food on my plate, now I don’t. I’ve tried going back to smaller plates, etc etc etc but fuck, it just keeps happening. I know it’s me doing it, duh, and I know it undermines my weight loss but I feel compelled to add another scoop, to have a little more than what I need.
# 5 “No matter what you do, you keep getting fatter” – well unfortunately, that’s also true. Sure, a couple of days of being comfortable around food and eating well don’t guarantee weight loss, I know that, but it could a little! But the uncomfortable days around food are outweighing all else and so yes, despite strenuous effort on my part, I am gaining.
# 6 “So you might as well enjoy this meal, the weight gain is inevitable” – youch, this is the one that hurts the most. It feels kind of stabby. It hurts because seeing it in bold print is so sad, as if I’m really saying to myself, ‘I’m sorry that a fattening, calorie laden dinner that you won’t really remember and will regret 3 minutes after you eat it is the best I can offer you in the way of enjoyment. And oh yeah, you’ll getting fatter too, right away, so it’s a long term punishment for a short term pleasure. But go ahead, enjoy your meal.”

Fuck, that really does hit the nail on the head. How disappointing to waste my life on that struggle. Basically, I can eat too much to deal with life which is genuinely sucky, or I can… what? Suffer? Either way though, it leads to suffering. The original suffering, and then the suffering of gaining weight and being fat(ter).

What can I do?

Right now, I’m asking myself if I need to add the suffering, guilt, regret and recrimination that will result if I eat too much at dinner to the equation tonight. The answer is no. But I do want the option of drinking a glass of wine.

What about tomorrow? I’ll have people over and we’ll be having fun. Should I eat with them, or no? When I was losing weight I looked for healthy options in the midst of events like that but still partook. Can I find that balance again?