Poor Eating, Poor Attitude

We went out Friday night to celebrate Hotty Scotty's 38th birthday. That's right folks, we are careening towards 40...

We decided on Bonefish because, well, tuna. We love tuna. If you remember my favorite foods list (located here), tuna is definitely a favorite! So, naturally, this was our first choice for a birthday/night out/date night type of evening. We got there at about eight o'clock, and finally, by nine, we were seated.

Enter ahi tuna sashimi appetizer.

Yum.

Enter bread.

Fresh, warm, artisanal bread.

With olive oil.

And pesto.

Oh crap.

I made a bad decision and set off in a tail spin that did not end until today. FOUR days later. Thank goodness it has not been another five months...but let me tell you how the past four days have gone...

Saturday:
-woke up feeling yucky
-knees hurt
-dreaded facing the day
-ate pizza for lunch (another bad mistake, but I slipped into the well-I-already-messed-up-mentality)
-had to lay down for a nap
-miserable trip to Walmart to get camping stuff
-blood sugar crashes ALL DAY LONG
-continued to feed sugar cravings (cheesecake, crackers etc.)

Sunday:
-slept until 11:30 AM
-chose not to go to church
-knees and back hurt so bad, I moved to recliner
-slept until 2:00 PM while off and on waking up ill as a hornet and being ugly to my family
-completely overwhelmed with laundry/dishes that needed doing
-bad attitude combined with feeling miserable with off and on crying
-refused to help SK outside with pool prep
-started a load of laundry
-laid back down
-felt very depressed
-forced myself to get dressed (I looked awful...I can only imagine what people thought)
-cried some more
-SK took us to Jersey Mikes so I could get a sub-in-a-tub (he knew I was "off kilter")
-went to grocery store
-came home, ate more junk because blood sugar was still wonky
-did as little as possible the rest of the day
-skipped a shower
-went to bed

Monday:
-hit snooze button until last possible minute
-got up and packed lunches
-went to McDonalds for lunch instead of eating the low carb options I packed
-stayed super-sleepy all day
-got home and had zero energy
-fixed a crappy carb-laden dinner
-planted myself in the recliner until time for bed

Today:
-hit snooze button until last possible minute
-got up and packed lunches
-ATE THE LUNCH I PACKED.
-still hungry, tired, and miserable...but...

...it comes with the territory. Now I have to go through the withdrawals again. I have to have a solid two days of feeling icky while my body burns the last of the carb-binge weekend off and gets back to ketosis. Now I have to use every single ounce of my already floundering will power to stay on the straight and narrow. Now I have to tell myself that each and every decision I make about food these next couple of days will eventually earn me back my energy, my good attitude, my stable blood sugars, my joy.

Why all this? Because I know that if I let a derailed weekend turn into a week, it will spiral out of control into many months and pounds. At this point, I just cannot let myself go for too long. The misery from this weekend was ENOUGH. Sunday was bad. So bad. And it did not have to be that way. It was a beautiful weekend full of sunshine and opportunity. For the Kinley household, however, it was a bad weekend.

I rock.

I hoard things. Awesome things, like Martha Stewart glitter and craft supplies, buttons, trolls, Lisa Frank goodies, dream catchers and vintage stickers. I am running out of wall space because I meet and fall in love with so many prints, canvases and artsy pieces. I guess you could say my walls and Christmas trees runneth over.

I do not like my feet touching the bare floor. It makes my feet feel dirty. Carpet is ok. But if my feet touch the hardwood floor at home, I will go wash them.

I like symmetry and evenness, but not in the traditional hang-art-on-the-walls way. It is more of a physical thing... If I tap my left foot, I feel the need to tap my right one. Then almost always, I tap both feet to the left, then to the right, then to the front and the back. Then I do the diagonal directions. Imagine your head as a compass. Lean your head North (forward), then South, (backwards). Then lean it to the West (left), then the East (right).

If I eat something small, like M&Ms for example, I eat even numbers of them. One at a time is ok, but not three or five at a time. It has to be two, four or six. Even.

I count a lot. I see a bridge up ahead when going down the highway... I will tell myself that I have to be under that bridge within 30 seconds or whatever. Then I start counting. It is ok it I do not make it within the specified 30 seconds, but I feel defeated. I don't speed up to make the 30-second mark, I just estimate. Then if my estimation is wrong, I guess that's where the defeated feeling comes from. I also count how long it takes me drive from block to block, etc. I sometimes count steps. (Of course my Fitbit does that for me now!)

Often, I will write out words with my fingers. If a word "sticks out to me" I may trace/write it on my leg with my finger. If it is not perfect, I will do it again and again. But if I write it an even amount of times, I will do it once more to make it odd. (An exception to my love for symmetry and evenness.) That way each "nonperfect" one has a perfect to cancel it out, and there is one extra perfect one that "counts" as the real and good one. But hey, my penmanship is pretty decent.

I hate metal silverware. I will use it, but I highly prefer plastic forks and spoons. I guess I benefit more than one way with this... less dishes to wash!

I get obsessive and bingey (is that a word? It is now!) with material things. If I love something, it is hard to have just one. Maybe it is a great nail polish. I want all the colors! Vintage treasure trolls at the flea market? Gotta have them all. I can't leave any behind! I counter some of this with an Etsy shop. Share the vintage love, I suppose. (No, that was not a shameless plug for my shop. But I am not deleting it. The intention is to let you, the reader, know that my house does not belong on an episode of Hoarders. I watch that show.)

I do not sleep under sheets and regular bedding. Yes, I make our beds the traditional way, fitted sheet then regular sheet, and quilt on top... but I sleep on top of the quilt and cover up with a different, lighter quilt. NOT at hotels though. That is a whole 'nother ball game there. It could be a separate post. *Shiver*

     Oh, I could go on and on.

I'm saying this to make a point, I promise. I have some OCD tendencies. I sometimes think they are crazy. I even wonder if I'm viewed as the weird girl on occasion. I bet, however, you didn't even know most of the things I said above to be true about me. I am just me. And that is so cool. I'm serious. It has taken years (and a little bit of how Sheldon Cooper's antics are glorified on the Big Bang Theory) to understand that I am just me. I am pretty sure no one has really ever sat around and discussed how "weird" Christina is.

We are our own worst enemies folks. It is a shame that it has taken me so many years to start understanding this.

I am organized, creative, smart and understanding. Nothing listed above changes that. If anything, it adds to it. I rock.

As humans, we are all different and made up of so many experiences, quirks, life lessons, and more.

And we rock.

#beautiful

Not.

I like the beat of #beautiful by Mariah Carey/Miguel. It's a good 2.8 mph beat on the treadmill.

However, tonight, I, once again had to remind myself that crying and the treadmill is not a good combination. Add in trying to explain to your hubby and 3+year-old why you are crying. :(

            I just feel so frumpy.

                   And I hate it.

I cannot explain it that well. I just do not feel pretty. It sounds so whiny. So "poor-me". So I hate that too.

I have been getting my hair done. Regularly. Yep, me! I found a girl I really like that does it and does a great job. So I keep going back. It makes me feel good. I have been buying clothes that I like. I wear my fun, funky jewelry and my awesome Toms, etc. On most days, I even text my pic to my BFF. Heck, I am even eating right. Something has to give and unfortunately, I know that it is my MIND that needs the adjustment.

My mind. The hardest dang part of me.

I have decided that I am never going to be thin. I might be healthier, and that is freaking *fantastic!* but... knowing that this frumpy body will be the only body I ever have, that is pretty devastating at times. The fact that I am starting to accept that piece of it, well, double the devastation.


Mind. Body. Mind. Body. Mind. Body.

Neither is a quick or easy fix. I just have to keep at both of them.


#beautifulinsidebutwantittoshowontheoutsidetoo

Over and Over and Over

Yep.

What happened to me?

How many years did you used to have to go get your driver's licence renewed? Was it four years?

I remember being 20 or 21 years old, walking into the DMV (the day AFTER I was supposed to be there) and sitting down to wait for my turn at renewing my license.

I was sitting in the chair, digging out my old license (from when I was 16 and pretty hott) in case the examiner needed to see it. I managed to drop it and this guy next to me leaned over to pick it up for me.

He glanced down at the picture and said, "Is that you?" I replied, "Yeah."

The next thing out of his mouth was, "Damn girl, what happened to you? You used to be hot."

Sure, in those past four years, a lot had gone on. I had graduated high school, started community college, moved out of my parent's house...all the "usual" stuff. I had also been finally diagnosed with PCOS. My eating was out of control. I had no real understanding what that really meant...or how I would end up struggling with this for the rest of my life. Or how, as I get older, it gets even harder.

Or how much I changed.

In four quick years, I went from a tan, long-haired, not-slim-but-just-a-bit-overweight "hot chick" to looking like a "fat-Chinese-girl" as I have forever referred to that next license picture as. Ugh.

Okay, flashforward to the present.

I still sometimes catch myself not realizing what I look like. Oh, how do I explain that? Here's an example:

I am getting dressed in the morning. I sit down on the end of the bed, in bra and panties, to maybe help B zip her pants or something and I catch a glimpse of myself in the dresser mirror. If you are as big as I am, you know what I mean when I say that when you sit down, your fat, errr, spreads.

That is hard to explain, but when you sit down, everything kinda bunches and just blobs together, making you look even bigger. I assume you get what I mean. Well, I see myself in the mirror, fat all spread out and I think, "Oh. My. God. is that me?" My belly rests on my lap. The back-fat sitting there like a couple of weird boobs above my rear. (it's ok to laugh at that one) Years of PCOS-ridden body damage, laced with binge/comfort/emotional eating, staring me right in the face. Then I am SLAMMED with a deep horror, followed up with a second slam of sadness and hopelessness.

Sorry folks, that may sound depressing and harsh, but it is the simplest and most honest way I can describe it. What happened to me? I do not know. I do know. I hate it. I do not seem to be able to fix it. It is that swing I have blogged about. It is that madness. It is that street I walk down and keep falling in the hole. It is me.

I am a lot of what happened to me.

How in the world do you fix yourself when part of yourself is working against you?

I wanna be just like you.

My sweet child said two unexpected things this weekend. Two unexpected things that have left me feeling a little...numb? I do not even have a word for it yet.

First up...

We went on a "family lunch date" on Saturday. As we were happily sitting in Sir Pizza, B decided she wanted the lemon that was in my water. I fished it out of the cup and gave it another quick squeeze and handed it over. She proceeded to look at the lemon wedge, look at me, then said "Mommy, you squeezed the hell out of it."

Yep. She sure did.

Scott and I decided to ignore it. So, of course, she repeated the statement, this time louder. I am sure the two elderly ladies next to us have deemed us unfit parents. Ugh.

Lesson learned: Watch our mouths.

Second...

Scott, B and I are all on the couch watching the eleventy-thousandth episode of Spongebob Squarepants. Scott and B are snacking on chips. (For what it is worth, I will say that I was not eating anything at the time...) B is really big on the "I am going to eat my food so I can grow up to be big and strong..." deal right now. I am sure they hear it at daycare etc. as an encouragement to eat their lunches/snacks. So I did not think anything of her saying that to me. THEN she said "I am gonna get real big and strong and fat." I was not really thinking negatively as I said, "Nah, sweety,  you don't want to be fat, just big and strong." The next thing out of her mouth was, "But you are."

I just kinda kept it light and said something like "Well, yes, I am, but you do not want to be." She said "but I want to be just like you."

I dropped the subject after mentioning something about getting big and strong and exercising and being slim. I sucked it up. I did not let her see me cry.

Lesson learned: I am setting an example for my child. She wants to be like me. So am I being the best me that I can be? No. I am not.

If I could just quit food...at this point...I would.

and I quote...

Well, this could just about sum up my previous post (below)...

Delaying life.

I thought I would take a moment to talk about something I am guilty of doing.

A lot.

Like always.

Sometimes I put off doing, buying, ENJOYING things until I am "skinny".

I constantly put off stuff and say that I will do it as a reward for myself if I, say, lose 20 pounds. I think that I am setting up some sort of reward system for myself, but it really seems to set me up to fail then feel bad and then make me even more miserable.

Just a few examples of "I-will-do-that-after-I-lose-some-weight" situations:

     renewing my cosmo subscription

     buying an awesome ornament from hobby lobby

     getting the decent work/dress pants I found

     buying my new Nikon

     covering the gray (yes folks, gray!) at my temples

     going to get a mani/pedi

Here was my thinking regarding the pants situation: I got one pair in my current size. I said I'd get another pair or two in the other colors but in smaller sizes. Then I decided I would not buy anymore at all, until I lost weight. Ugh. Well what about right now? Should I not get to wear nice pants that flatter me right NOW? Sure, sure, if I do lose enough weight to make them big and baggy, I will have to buy more... but why not have pants that fit now. It sure makes me feel good when I am comfortable, stylish, and have more than two pairs of dress pants that fit! It makes laundry day come a little less often too!

If I do not start to live and enjoy each day like I seem to think I would if I were skinny, then I am wasting my entire life away. Waiting on something that just may never happen. Not too long ago, I saw a dove chocolate (Lord, help me.) wrapper one day that said, "Live in the present." That is pretty powerful. We should not live in, nor dwell on the past, but might I point out that always waiting on something bigger (In my case, smaller? lol) in the future and not seeing and enjoying things right in front of you is not much better. Live. in. the. present.

Is that not just punishing myself even more than being overweight naturally already does? Geesh.

High heels are not my friends. Rollercoasters and theme parks are kinda a favorite pastime now. My confidence level is not always so great. It can be hard to find trendy clothes to fit my body.  The list goes on. (Future post, anyone?) There is enough built-in grief to being my size... so dang it, I am going to have my flippin' Cosmo magazine, my Christmas ornaments, etc.

Besides, (and I quote) "I may not be skinny, but I am freaking awesome, and that is basically the same thing." LOVE that! Plus, who's to say that being skinny would automatically solve all the problems in the world for me? I am not that naive.

and yes...

I picked up the latest Cosmo issue and renewed my subscription. Then bought the last camera ornament they had at Hobby Lobby AND I got two more pairs of those good-fitting pants in my current size and I could not be happier. Well, if I were skinny, maybe...

Chapter 3

Read this. I am soooooo stuck in chapter 3. Do you have something in your life that you can relate to this fantastic and gut-wrenchingly true piece of writing?

Autobiography In Five Chapters

1) I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost… I am hopeless.
It isn’t my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

2) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don’t see it.
I fall in again.
I can’t believe I’m in the same place.
But it isn’t my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.

3) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in… it’s a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.

4) I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

5) I walk down another street.

Portia Nelson
From: Sogyal Rinpoche, The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying

Cognitive Polyphasia...

...is defined as "the ability to hold conflicting ideas about the same thing at the same time."

Went for my quarterly visit with my awesome doctor today and had a really great conversation about the mental part of me. It was also duly noted that I am up, oh, 7 pounds since my last visit, three months ago. Ugh. I was honest. I told her that it is the way I am eating. I binge. I go waaaay over my recommended caloric range everyday. I have good intentions for a day or two, but then, all heck breaks loose. I told her I feel so out of control. I know what to do and how to eat. I know what happens when I do not. Weight Gain. Depression. Joint Pain. Mood Swings. Feeling crappy in general. Yet, I cannot seem to limit my intake of food.

She said it was not my fault.

I argued that, yes, it is.

She conceded that yes, it is, and no, it is not.

She said I have options. (hmph. doubt it.) I could consider appetite suppressants like Adipex or Qsymia. (both known to speed up your heart etc. omg.) I could consider gastric bypass. (we all know that with my psychological state, I'd gain the weight back.) I could just stop eating before I am full. I could eat a NORMAL serving of food, then stop. Just stop. Even if that nagging hungry-in-my-mind feeling is still there. Just stop. Drink some water and stop eating. Wow. What a concept. Next. (haha?) She said that for folks like me it is not easy. Even when staying "on plan", we have yet to truly reprogram our bodies to eat less and reprogram our minds to be ok with that. We think that is where I am failing.

Anyways...

She always gives me a visit summary sheet that tells about my appointment. It tells me my current vitals, my meds, etc. It is basically a snapshot of my doctor visit that day. She gave me the very detailed "notes" pages that I usually do not get. She rocks. She has nothing to hide and I try to treat her the same. On the notes page, I noticed she had put that I was positive for cognitive polyphasia.

So I googled it.

She has me pegged. Nice job doc. I am glad I finally have a name for the madness.

Now, if only I could fix it.