I'm the Boss of Me

"Hungry" seems to be my companion these days. I choose to ignore it. It's not contsant. It's my tool, not the other way around. I'm trying to only respond to physically hungry, not emotionally hungry or stressed hungry or socially hungry, and then, with wisdom. I am not my stomach, but I will be if I don't choose to be the boss of me.

Still Backing Away From the Edge of the Cliff

I think I did pretty well for my first holiday test. The Fourth of July to me is potlucks and barbecues with all the food none of us eat except at those events. I brought diet soda with me and drank one to fill up my stomach with bubbles before we ate. I also brought a divided plate. I filled the largest part with spinach salad and the small sections with fruit and baked chicked (peeled the skin off). I'm sure there was plenty of naughty dressing on the salad, but it was day about making a better choice. I only had a bite of the brownies I brought.

Later when we barbecued with friends, I wanted steak so I had it, but cut down the proportion to a proper size, had a bite of the macaroni salad I love, and filled the rest of the plate with zucchini. Again, just a bite of dessert. Later when we went to the movies, I was too full to want anything from the snack counter.

I felt the day was successful. Sunday, I wasn't ready yet to journal again and think hard about making good choices. But I was content to read and try again to be at peace with my perception of hungry. This morning I weighed in without a gain, I'm back to journaling and feel good about the weekend. It doesn't feel like a success when you're just trying to fix something that's broken, put it back the way it was or should be. I feel rather like I'm biding my time while my body does all the work. Until I can exercise again, time is the only thing that will give me the changes I'm trying to make.

Being Intentional

Today was the first day that "hungry" was hard to ignore. I just didn't get enough calories in early enough in the day. Watching the clock is the hardest part of watching my diet. When I eat early, I seem to run out of calories before I run out of day. When I don't get enough calories early on, I over-eat later.

So I did a web search for a visual to go with my hunger. I was stunned when this picture came up. It's so graphic and representative of how I feel sometimes. Not full to exploding, rather full of everything with no thought or intention. Eating mindlessly. Being intentional is harder some days that others.

Cook Yourself Thin

I've really been enjoying the Cook Yourself Thin cookbook. It's mostly made of food I actually eat, not the things authors feel a need to include in an effort to appeal to everyone. I don't personally know anyone who loves curry. Nor am I willing to eat bad chocolate cake for 300 calories when the original is 350. Not only is this a great cookbook for the average soccor mom who eats on the run and demands her comfort foods in times of stress, but so far, the recipes actually taste good. They are tastey recipes in and of themselves, not some watered down, tasteless, or worse - wrong tasting version of the original. This morning I made Portabello Eggs Benedict with Red Pepper Sauce. Very tastey and I swear I didn't miss the bread!

Backing Away From the Edge

So I journaled and paid attention to my numbers yesterday. It was hard. I don't like being hungry, even if it's not physically hungry. It's an uncomfortable and uncertain place to exist. Thanks to shedding of fluid, I'm actually down a couple of pounds this morning. I feel like I'm still out on that cliff that falls over into the gross obesity that is the genetic potential of my DNA, but I've backed away from the edge. Can I keep backing up? I have to keep mentally bringing up recent pictures of myself that tell the true story of my weight and realize just how close I still am to the edge.

All Out of Clothes

Yesterday was Sunday again. I had NOTHING to wear to church. While we were on vacation last week I bought a new blouse. Truthfully, I should have bought it a size larger. I paired it with a skirt two sizes too small...just didn't zip the zipper all the way and kept the blouse untucked. I used to roll my eyes at people who would squeeze themselves into clothing that was clearly too small. The ultimate test seems to always be puffy sleeves. Why don't they just buy some bigger clothes I would think? Don't they know they look ridiculous? They're not fooling anyone but themselves. Yet as I faced my closet, it was the only choice. So why don't I go shopping today? Because I don't want to own one more article of clothing as a momument to the size I am now. I have to believe this is a temporary state or change won't even be a possibility.

I still getting over pneumonia. The steroids were good for another 8 pounds up. EIGHT POUNDS! *sigh*

I'm truly out of clothes. I'm sitting here in the equivilant of a muumuu. It's an old t-shirt dress with no waist, but it is floral and feels like a sofa cover. I don't have any more time to lament and talk about it. I have to make some changes and make them stick. I can't start the school year looking and feeling like this.

Thanks to the pneumonia, I still can't exercise, but I'm going to remember that I have control over my diet.

Are Ya Done Yet?

So here it is May and I'm up over 180 pounds. I went clothes shopping this past week to find something I would feel good wearing to church. I have to speak to the whole congreation for Mother's Day. I've had an emotionally deck-clearing week and I needed the retail therapy. Of course there's nothing quite so vivid to shake your view of reality as spring clothes shopping and florescent lighting. The good news is that I found a dress. My first size 16. I guess it's also good news that it also gave me that reality check. I look at myself and the scale and think, "Well, are ya done yet? Do you want to wallow some more in whatever is making you stuff your mouth and ignore all the "to do's" in your life or do you want to do something to reverse it? You know better."

I think the harshest reality check came while bra shopping. Despite the fact that I've gained 50 pounds, I was still wearing the same bras that I was before I gained the weight. That's where my greatest denial still lingered. I had no problem buying bigger jeans so I could sit and oh, breathe, but I was spilling out of my bra the way some people spill out of their hip huggers. It just wasn't right and I could finally see that. The new bra in the new size is SO much more comfortable...and oddly strange to look at. I went from those little frilly things in catalogs to something that looks industrial. Not sure how I feel about that. It brings me a little too close to my mother's weight issues. I remember her bras in the wash. I know I want to do something. I'm not sure what that is yet. I know it needs involve real food and accountability. But it needs to happen soon.