Self-Care

The cooler air has been a relief.

Forget the blues in winter, I get them in summer. The oppressive heat, humidity and blaring sun do not do good things for momma. I'd much rather be wrapped in a sweatshirt, simmering soup on the stove, baking, cleaning without sweating and sucking fresh air.

Yes, the drop in temperature is welcomed here.

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My Wii broke. I've been using it to weigh myself, which makes it breaking kind of a sour deal. I don't know what is wrong with it besides the fact that it will not turn on. Pretty basic. I've had the kids look at it (they know more than me about these things) and they weren't able to fix it. I weighed myself on my shipping scale (the back up), and I look to be about the same. Maybe a bit of a loss, I don't know and can't quite remember.

Wii takes off 2 pounds for clothing. I think my shipping scale weighs in 3 pounds heavier. If I weighed 270 on the shipping scale, then I'm about 265? If I remember right. Which I'm not sure that I do. Still, it is a lesson in not being completely married to the scale, or the system, but to rely more on the the process as indication of progress.

Which I am, and am watching what I eat. Shifting here and there, trying to spice things up with new recipes. I've been pretty good about it, making new meals the past few days, shopping ahead (better for finances, too). I think I may have glugged down a half bottle of wine one evening, though. Not the best for calories. But I stayed within my range, crazy as it is.

I've been going for walks. I've been trying to be more active. Consciously.

My wellness is not whole. It isn't just the eating (although it is part of how I comfort myself). The eating is a symptom. The chaos is a symptom. I have many parts of my life that need better balance -nutrition, exercise, finances, household, spirit, self- and I need to maintain focus and better balance. Self-care.

As I tighten up on one area of my life (my eating), I see other parts start to fall in line. But, then, I also see the potential for other areas to become less manageable if I become too focused or immersed in my physical (eating, exercise) well-being.

Right now my immediate concern has to do with work. Last year my hours were cut. I was not happy about it, but learned to live with it, and eventually ended up enjoying it. My hourly cut gave me the opportunity to look beyond my day job--which is just a job, not a career-- to see what other options were available to me. Finishing my degree? Putting time into other areas of my life (self, household, volunteer, my "freelance" work)? Go back to doing some crafting?

Now, my job is wanting me back for the hours it took away. I'm not entirely sure if that is what I want right now. I have a couple of other opportunities that are open to me that, I think, might bring greater fulfillment than the measly dollars I would make stacking on more hours. I have an offer for some freelance work, and I still could finish up my degree. Both would be good, for different reasons. I will pray on it, chew on it and hope I can find some answers and some peace about it.

All of this falls under the "self-care" umbrella. Me, taking care of myself. Making a decision largely based on myself, and less based on everyone else. Not something I generally do. I've dodged out of a million commitments and opportunities simply because I put everyone else in front of me. But in the process of that, I've lost the delicate balance of regarding the family needs as well as my own in my decision-making -- and in that have lost some of myself. Compromised to the point of being nearly suffocated, depressed and lost. For me to be a better mother/wife/sister/human being, I have to regard myself, my boundaries and what is healthy for me, so I can be a better person to other people. As cliche as it sounds, it is true.

Manure Hits Fan

My emotions are tied to my eating. I know and recognize this. Part of my (gag-cliche-gag) journey in all this is facing things head on, sacrificing my pride, and relearning.

I've done good. 70 pounds down, not shabby. But the last couple weeks I've been sliding. The scale hasn't much reflected it, but the way I've been eating has, and the scale is sure to follow. OK. That's a lie. The scale isn't going down. That's how it is reflecting. I'm no longer losing. I'm maintaining, and soon I will be gaining.

I could wax poetic for a bunch of paragraphs, but I'll just claim the truth of it and work with that.

So here it is: my depressed and anxiety-prone adult child is living with us again. For four years we went through, (dragging us with) a nightmare with her as she entered her teen years, barreling through them with drugs, alcohol, risky behavior and excitement, with disregard for everyone around her. I haven't healed from all of that yet, and now we find her back with us. I still have kids in the house who are not grown, which sets off a whole different dynamic.

I'm scarred, and not yet healed from the trauma that we went through. Having her here again has re-opened wounds. The only good thing about having her home is that we know where she is at night, and we know she's not out on the streets doing who knows what. Been there, not easy, but you learn to live with it. I'm not saying it's right or good or even going to "work" letting her stay here in the long run. I'm just saying it is what is now.

Through all those years I never went to counseling. I survived, I got through. I learned and grew as a mother and a human being. I suffered. A lot. More than I care to think of right now. I believe I have a some PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) from all of those years of trauma, lies, fear.

Just as I started to find some peace and healing, acceptance... it comes crashing down again. I've been taking Xanax, occasionally. I went to a counselor for the first time two weeks ago. I'm anxious and irritable, depressed. Feeling the stress in nearly every corner of my world.

I feel horrible, complaining like this, which is why I haven't said anything about it. But today, as I looked at my nearly expended calories, felt stuffed to the gills, poured a Guinness (drank half, then poured it out), climbed in my car for a chocolate run (with a kid in tow to run into the store for me -- I look a hot mess), came back and ate 200 calories of Hershey's (half of that in the car, and half on the couch, still within my calorie range) - and then within a half-hour decided to completely blow it, made an egg bagel, slathered with butter and a dash of grape jelly (I never eat this crap, so I know I'm on a binge), eat it furiously and sit down to type this? I know I have to face it, claim it, name it, pray about it, give it up to God -- whatever I can do to not be consumed by it.

This is where the tough part comes in, honey. And it is tough. Because the most wicked saboteur is not friends, family, commercials, celebrity or anything else. It's SELF. And I was wondering when it would kick in. I was wondering when my willpower and drive would fail. And it is now. When the manure hits the fan.

If I can't keep on the path, despite my unhappiness, then I have problems. I need to face this problem, whatever it is at the root, dig it up and get rid of it.

I don't know how yet. But I'm standing in the hole with a shovel, ready to cut into the root, or pull the dirt over my head.

Not a Plateau

I wouldn't say I'm at a plateau, but I have maintained my weight this week. A plateau would mean that, despite my continued weight-loss efforts, my body refuses to lose weight. I can not say that I was entirely diligent in the weight-loss effort department this week. And that's OK. Maybe subconsciously I need a bit of a break.

I went to lunch with one of my bosses this week. I don't normally do that, even though the opportunity is constantly there. I work in an office of people who love to do lunch. Lunch out of the office or take-out brought into the office, doesn't matter. 99.9% of the time I turn down lunch offers. I always have. Be it money or me watching what I eat, or the fact that I'm working and need to get things done. Last week, though, came to a point of You Can't Refuse The Boss. So I didn't. My resistance was down anyway. It was an excuse not to work on a slow day, it was dinner on the boss, and I like my boss.

And I like food, not to mention.

So I went. Ate reasonable. Enjoyed it. Moved on. Saved my Lean Cuisine for another day.

There's no way I can make it practice, of coarse, or it would be a sabotage of my good habits.

But last week was filled with experiences somewhat like that. Two weeks of this is not good, as far as losing weight goes. I'm tickled to have lost last week and maintained this week, but time has come to gather the discipline despite the food-eating opportunities that summer brings. The heat has been an unfortunate factor for me, too. I haven't gone on the walks I normally do.

So my goal for this next week will be to journal my food every single day and to exercise. Pretty simple. All of this, of coarse, to see the needle on the scale bob a bit lower, which is the whole point of things right now. I'm ready to be out of my 26 pants, feel them getting looser.

It is a delicate balance of motivating myself to move on, but being in tune enough to know not to push to much. Technically, I should be able to stay at 266 for a year. 266 is better than 298, which is better than 338. Using that broader perspective, I am at a better place than I've been in years. I don't want to push myself so much that I throw in the towel.

So we'll see. My hope is continued weight loss. But bigger picture I don't ever want to be back where I was at 298.

Cocktails and Conversation

First and foremost: my dog stinks. He's sitting right next to me, wondrous companion that he is, and reeks of doggie stench. Love him anyway.

Speaking of doggie, he's great. Haven't had him for too long, a couple months, really. But it is so nice to have someone to walk with. He's not big, so I couldn't take him for much more of a walk than I do (3 miles maybe 4 tops). A guard dog he is not, but a joyful tag-along he is.

Yesterday we went out for drinks and chatting with a couple of friends. Prior to cocktails and conversation I hauled donkey on a 40-minute walk, purposely hitting a few hills and keeping the momentum at a nice clip. All this so that I didn't have to worry too much about what I ate, knowing I'd have to burn some calories just to make up for it.

Sitting on my barstool, I enjoyed the looseness of the cotton shirt I was wearing. Last year it was snug on my hips, this year it hangs loosely. Must make note of these things and continually remind myself how much better it feels to be comfortable in my skin.

I ended up having a couple of drinks and splitting an appetizer with my husband (mini burgers and a scotch egg). Not so bad, could have been worse. Can't make it a nightly event, but for something special it was nice.

Today I'm back on track, and making sure to journal my intake. I'm wearing a pair of shorts that didn't fit me last year. They're still a little snugger than I'd like. I intend to change that.

Have a great day.

266

Through the grazing and the stress, I'm still managing to (slowly) melt away fat (or brain cells, who knows).

OK, OK. Sarcasm aside. Another pound gone. One I don't feel too deserving of, honestly. I feel like I went piggy this past week and didn't put in the exercise time because of the blazing heat. I figured I might stay the same, or go up a pound. So when I stepped on the scale, it was a bit of a surprise to me.

Until I gave it more thought.

The me now is different from the me then, six months ago. Even if I miss a couple of days journaling (I'm not saying it is good, I'm just saying it happens), I try and make up for it-- or I'm really diligent about getting it done for the next few days. Even if I miss a day or two of walking, I put in work another time.

My walks are longer.

My "pigouts" pack less punch.

My food choices are better.

This week we did some pizza pick-up, those $5 special ones with a side of jalapeno cheese bread. Love it, but it is most definitely the devil's food. Greasy, salty, a bit spicy. But falls under the "live to eat" food and not the other way around.

After placing the order, I went and cut up a bell pepper and a tomato, doused it with a tablespoon of Newman's balsamic dressing (light) and ate up, making sure to get my veggies in and fill my tummy on something good.

Pizza comes and I grabbed 3 cheese sticks and a slice of pizza. I ate it all and was stuffed. That... was a pig out.

While feeling the strain of my over indulgence, my mind began to spin (as the norm). I felt like a royal pig with a douse of guilt. But then I contemplated. I stayed within my calorie range that day. No, not the greatest food choices, but still within limits (calorie limits, I think I hit the ceiling on the fat quota). I also noted that I did not go back for seconds. Something that I would normally do. I ate what I put on my plate, and I was done.

Hmm.

Interesting.

Practice breeds habit. Going for walks is becoming a habit. Eating one serving is becoming a habit. Eating smaller more reasonable portions is becoming a habit. Enough so that I'm able to still lose weight, while not being as good as I could be. I'm not saying it is optimum or preferred, but it is a step in the right direction.

Years of lazy eating habits being chipped away at. Never will I get cocky because, like a drug addict, slipping back can make for a sad spell off the wagon.

Versatile Blogger Award

Hey, lookie here. My very first blogger award! How very exciting. Thank you, Allan. Now, with great power comes great responsibility, says Spiderman. Muhahahaha, power. Heh. Deal is, I need to thank the person who gave the award (waves again to Allan), also I need to nominate 15 other bloggers for the award (and tell them about it). Play it forward, so to speak. I also need to tell 7 things you may not know about me.

Seven things about me:

1. I love coffee and red wine, but they're both hard on me delicate tummy.
2. I hate the sun. Well, not hate. If it is cool outside, I can handle it, but on a hot, humid day... oh no. Sun, sun, stay away.
3. I talk to myself. A lot.
4. I love to wear flip-flops, and would wear them all the time if I could.
5. I'm a night owl.
6. I have so many nicknames for my dog it's probably not normal.
7. My toenails are always painted.
8. I hate taking my contacts out of my eyes. No matter how many times I do it, it still ookies me out and I often end up cursing during the process.

So I went above and beyond on the 7 things because I'm going to condense the 15 nommies. Sorry, folks. I'm a loner, Dottie. A rebel.

And for my nominations...

Almost Gastric Bypass

Who Ate My Blog?

365 Days with the 330 Pound Woman

Stuffing My Feelings

Bye Bye Fat Pants

Deflating

" I am sitting on the porcelain throne, dropping the deuce, and here to give all the fans a play by play..." -- Allan

Gotta be my favorite line from a blog in a long time. Was peeling through some archives, and couldn't help but feel the need to share that one.

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The other day we were at a family get together and I noticed my auntie-in-law had lost some weight (intentional weight loss, I have to note). I told her how fabulous she looked. "You bet your (string of obscenities) I lose weight," she said, "I lost seventy fricken pounds!!!"

I commended her again, while my head chewed on what a 70-pound loss looks like on her, also noting that I myself had lost 70 pounds. She did look good. Better. Thinner. She looked like a shrunken down version of herself. The same rolls, sags and pillows. Just... smaller rolls, sags and pillows.

Hmm.

That's what straight up weight loss does for you. Shrinks you. Doesn't tone or tighten you, it just takes the air out of the dough. That's... well, that's me. On a less obvious scale. She was maybe where I am now when she started losing weight. And I lost mine in phases of years.

But back to the whole shrinking thing. Right now that's all I'm doing. I'm shrinking myself. In the shower the other day I could feel that my body was smaller. My brain finally caught onto that, feeling my stomach, and noticing it was smaller than before. Shaving my legs, there's less surface. What a strange feeling. I'm not toning, not yet. I can't handle all that yet. One mountain at a time. But I'm thinking about it more and more, thinking I should set some kind of milestone at which I will start to tone. When I reach my goal weight?

My walks are getting longer. Instead of being satiated at 20 minutes, it now takes me about 40 to feel like I've gotten a good amount in. I enjoy my long walks, providing the weather is nice (nice meaning less than 80-degrees and shady). I struggle on the days when it is hot, especially if I have my hair blown out. But my walks are getting longer, and on my long walk the other day I started to think about the fact that I'm going to need to tone up this deflated bag at some point.

In addition to my walking, I'm adding on 3 sets of 50 situps 3 times per week. Not a whole lot, but some foundation work to get me going. My sagging tummy is my worst enemy, and there's no reason not to add that to my "todo" list along with my walking.

I'm glad to say I'm feeling those situps 2 days later, so I know I worked my tummy well.

30 more pounds and I'll have lost 100 pounds. It's not sinking in yet, though. Every goal I reach, I'm always looking for the next one. Right now I can't wait to be on the other side of 200 -meaning being under 250. I'm pretty well motivated to get there, but always wary of the obstacles that await.