Oh my goodness, it's been a rough day...and an even rougher weekend in regards to eating. I said I wasn't going to get on the scale this week til Friday. I guess I lied. I HAD to know what kind of damage I've done to myself after 3 days of mindless eating so I got on the scale after I got out of the shower tonight. I've gained 3 lbs. since Friday's weigh-in. How deflating.
I've got some family issues going on that I'm not going to splatter all over my blog. I really don't need to...I know that we ALL have crap that we have to deal with that many times is out of our control. It's just there. It is what it is and we have to find a way to deal with it. So when I tell you it's bad...and will probably get way worse before it gets better...if it ever gets better...then you know it's the truth.
I noticed tonight that I've been stress eating today. I didn't go all out...but I did end up over my calorie limit by a couple of hundred calories....AGAIN. The only good thing I have to report is that I did 2.5 miles on the treadmill this morning, and then did another mile tonight, trying to mitigate the damage. I've also drank all of my water for the last 2 days. Hooray for small victories. I would say that I'm glad the weekend is over...but truthfully, the stress of what I have to do tomorrow to take care of some family business is going to be worse than the last 3 days put together. Pray that I find my focus and can pull through...that I can set my eating aside from the stress that's in my face and not let it be affected in a negative way.
About the 30 year habit....when I first started this blog, I tried to think as far back as I could to find out how long I've been fat. I figured out that it was around 15 years old that I really realized I had a weight problem. I was so wrong. For some reason, in this past week, a couple of childhood memories popped into my head and I realized it was long before 15 years of age. Talk about depressing.
I had a memory of going to Weight Watchers with my mom back when my grandmother on my Dad's side of the family was one of their meeting leaders. I don't remember my exact age, but I want to say that it was before I was 10 years old because I think we were living at the "old house" when we went. Can I tell you how embarassing it was to sit in those meetings in front of my grandmother, who I wasn't very close to in my younger years (that has changed as I've aged), having her talk to "me" (all of us) about why I'm fat. Oh good Lord. I hated that. I think I buried those memories for a reason. Our mind buries certain things to protect us. Not sure why it decided to pop back up this week but I sure wish it would have stayed tucked away. Also, it was not lost on me, even at that age, that my 2 sisters weren't there with us. There was a reason I was the only one Mom drug along with her. I was the fat one. Another lovely reminder of childhood.
Also, I have memories of going to a restaurant on the weekends called Valley's. I want to say my earliest memory was around 7 years old probably. My Dad worked out of town a lot so we mostly only saw him on the weekends when I was young. I'm sure all he wanted was a home-cooked meal after he'd eaten out of town all week...but he took us out a lot when he came home...I'm guessing because we begged him and he knew we'd eaten at home all week long and going to a nice restaurant sure was fun!! I was such a little pig apparently. I specifically remember Dad always asking us, after we finished our plate, if we had enough to eat. "Did you get enough to eat girls? Are you still hungry? Want anything else?"
Of course I'd had enough...but I specifically remember (and I'm so ashamed of this) thinking that Oh boy! I could have a whole other plate of food if I want!!! But then, even at 7 years old, I knew it would be impolite to make Dad pay for more food, and make the whole family sit there and wait while I ate another whole plate. My thought processes had NOTHING to do with the fact that I didn't need anymore food. I refuse to believe that I was still physically hungry. So I must have had food issues as young as 7 years old. That just blows my mind. I'm embarassed by that...I'm ashamed of it...and it's just one more memory that I wish would have stayed tucked away.
I've been a food addict for 30 years. Incredible. Incredibly depressing is more like it. Do you know how easy it would be for me to tell myself....30 years? Seriously, Tammy? There's no way you can break a 30 year habit. That's more than you can handle. You don't have it in you. It would take more work that you're capable of doing. Why waste your time? Just accept who you are and live with it. Oh yes, it would be easy to just lay down and quit. Yes indeedy.
Or......Or I could realize that I have a choice. I can choose the defeatist attitude, throw my hands up in the air, feel sorry for myself, let the embarassment and shame take over and hold me down for the rest of my life. I could "just accept it" and "live with it". I certainly could.
Or I could make the other choice. I could choose life. Real life. A healthy life. I could choose to hold my head up high in the face of those memories...stare them down...and show them that it IS possible to break 30 year habits. Hard, admittedly....but possible. And I do have it in me to do it. I can take all that shame and embarassment and disgust for myself and turn it into the tools I need to push me towards my goals. I can turn it into anger for letting myself go this long. I can turn it into determination to get on that treadmill every day, without fail, and walk myself right out of this fat body. I can turn it into perseverance with counting the calories and staying under my limits every single day, no matter WHAT is thrown my way. I can turn it into pride that I care enough about myself to commit to reaching my goals.
That's exactly what I'm going to do. I'm taking my life back from the dreaded fat cells. I'm going to find out for the FIRST TIME what it's like to be a normal weight, because I obviously don't have a memory of ever being one. I don't have any skinny jeans stuck in the back of my closet to fit into because I've NEVER OWNED ANY. That's okay. That's perfectly okay. This whole "normal weight" thing is going to be completely new for me, and that in itself is exciting. I don't even know what I'm missing...I guess that's one way of looking at it. But I hear it's fantastic...it's liberating...it's something worth working towards and busting my a$$ for and that's exactly what I'm going to do.
Freedom awaits....and I'm answering the call. I choose to lose. I choose to work hard. I choose to go at this with a positive attitude and leave the negative thoughts behind me. I choose to press on...to trudge through the muck and the mire that's been holding me back until I get to that mountain top. I will get there. I will. And I can't wait to see the view.....in my new skinny jeans. :)
Quote For The Day:
"The man who removes a mountain begins by carrying away small stones." -Chinese proverb
3 months ago