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.

Orange and White Stripes NOT Forever

I just wanted to say that ever since the day I wore that orange and white striped shirt and saw my reflection in a store mirror, it has made me feel terrible about myself. Every. Single. Time. In fact, I have not worn that shirt since. It has been nearly two years. Each time I see it in my closet, I relive how bad I felt that day.

I fail and feel bad enough on my own sometimes that I just do not need a constant reminder or anything that represents that.

Well, last night I threw that shirt away.

Enough is enough.

(Here is the original post.)

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.

Madness

Up and down.

Happy and sad.

High and low.

Fat and fatter.

Hungry and stuffed.


I am just so tired of it. Ugh. Sometimes I wish I could channel my frustrations and raw pain and emotions into actually controlling what I stuff in my mouth.

Battle Scars

Playing off of my previous MeNtAL post, part of what I have realized about my self is:

       I will NEVER have the perfect body.

Now, I could lie and say that I am okay with that, but I am not. However, I am somehow just now realizing that it is the cold, hard, truth. (Yeah, that was totally cliche.) Let's examine my thought process.

I have spent years (most-of-my-life) stretching out my skin. Well, most of the time when you lose weight, that skin does not snap back magically. A woman's body was meant to grow and stretch for a baby, and most times, after working hard to do so, a gal can get her original shape back. This is not the case with me. I have abused my body. Some I could not control, but most of it, yep, my fault.

Back when I lost 100 pounds on Weight Watchers, my skin was droopy. (Upper arms, belly, thighs.) It was not pretty. I kinda looked like I had been a balloon and someone stuck a pin in me (lost 100 pounds). Deflated. Stretch marks. (I call these fat-girl-battle-scars.) Ugh. (I was smaller though.)

From my research, I have found that a lot of folks that lose tons of weight go on to have all sorts of surgeries to remove excess skin. Full stomach/back lifts. Thigh lifts. Arm lifts. It sounds horrifying, looks horrifying (if you google pics/or follow some of the bloggers I do) and I guess it really is. I can only imagine if I was in their shoes. I would be excited to try to "fix" my body back to somewhat normal, even if it meant having major surgery scars. BUT, at the same time, I would hate myself for ever getting to the point that I would need surgery and massive healing time to fix my body. AFTER I had worked so hard to lose the weight, I would still have SO FAR to go.

In fact, I already hate myself for this.

I hate it even more because most days I feel like I will never even get to the point of losing weight and seeing if I even needed surgery.

Is it terrible to fantasize about needing to get tons of excess skin chopped off your body?

Just 'a Swingin...

Well I have successfully managed to swing back and forth between No Sugar/Low Carb and Weight Watchers...oh, about six or seven times now in the past year. I do not know what to say. The latest one has been Weight Watchers.

I have lost 11 pounds since Christmas maybe. I am not sure how accurate that is but in simpler terms, I am as fat and as miserable as ever. I need to get back to a happy place.

I am hungry all the time. Real hunger? I do not know, but that is what I will call it for now since it feels like hunger and I end up eating (read: stuffing myself) in order to make the feeling go away.

My joints hurt. My feet are really giving me a hard time right now. I crave candy. Smarties and Caramel Creams. I am like Homer Simpson. Mmmmmmmmmmm Smarties.

Sure I can talk it allllll day long...but my walk is just not happening.

I am trying to do "something" and meanwhile do my research.

Latest findings: someone on the lowcarbfriends.com discussion boards mentioned that she cannot seem to "stick with" anything. She's found that every time she tries to get "fancy" and start experimenting with those processed "low-carb" foods, she fails every time. However, as long as she sticks with lean meats, fish and veggies she does just fine. Enter lowcarb pancakes and she's a goner.

Lowcarb or not, those processed foods still trick your body... making it think that it is the real thing. Your body says "Hey... something sweet"... "I'd better produce some insulin!"...Start the cycle.

There's some unprocessed food for thought.

It was like I was reading my very own story.

Right this very moment, I have a pantry full of lowcarb pancake, bread and muffin mixes. I have lowcarb/SF syrups and lowcarb pudding mixes. Thinking back to my many attempts at cutting the sugar and carbs...every time I decide "hey, these muffins are okay because they are LC/SF"... that is usually what begins my slippery slide.

Fat Girl vs Office Chair

I'm feeling so good right now, that it is hard to talk about this topic, but it really had a profound effect on me and I wanted to share.

Background: I am taking some online classes right now and have been working on my assignments at my craft table in the craftroom a couple of nights a week. I sit in our office/desk chair when I am in there...a traditional chair with non-adjustable loop-style arms.

Secondary Information: (and TMI *snort*) I tend to run around the house in a tank top and undies in the evenings. (sometimes knit shorts) This was one of those sans shorts evenings. (*chuckle*)

Anyhoo...

Hotty Scotty was getting B ready for bed so that I could do some homework and they were in the bathroom brushing their teeth. I ran in there really quick for something and everyone was carrying on life as usual when I heard Scott say:

"Christina, (...pause...) is that what the office chair does to you?"

(in the softest, most sincere, caring, almost hurt voice I have ever heard him use)

The way he said my name before his statement...the way his voice sounded...the pain in his eyes (not disgust, but pain, for me)...the whole situation. My world stopped spinning for a moment. It was one of those "oh-my-gosh-I-think-he-just-realized-I-am-fat" moments.

He was referring to the large, deep, angry red indentations that the chair arms had formed across my upper/outer thighs. Yeah, I know the chair is tight when I sit in it. I know it is uncomfortable. I guess I am just used to it. This was one of the first times I can remember ever being truly embarrassed and ashamed of myself in front of my husband.

I simply nodded and replied an emotionless "Yes." to his question.

But...then I silently added "...but I am doing something about it."

To say that I am thankful

for his loving me the

way I am is yet another

understatement.

End. Of. *That*. Moment.

I am still here.

Days 13 through 21 (and 22, and 23) got busy.

I got distracted by life...I did not post/write anything, but I refuse to abandon my blog...so here is a new post for you:

Days 13 & 14
I did fine, stuck to my plan.

Day 15 (Easter, Food, Family)
I knew I would want dessert when everyone else was enjoying it, so I planned ahead. I sliced up some glorious strawberries, found some sugar-free angel food cake (not bad actually!) and some sugar-free whipped cream. I was SO proud of myself! By golly, I was gonna have a yummy dessert and eat it too!

Then, my family arrived. One of my nieces had whipped up her own Easter dessert. Cupcakes. ""Made 'em 'specially for Easter!!") Everyone else was chowing down on them. No one was paying attention to what *I* was doing/eating. (insert evil laugh HERE) Not even me.

I ate one (two).

Why did I do that? I kinda felt obligated. "Well, she did make these 'specially for Easter...", "It's a holiday, so I am supposed to splurge and eat junk..."

I ended up with a full-on sugar high...yep.

...and so the cycle began...

Day 16
All I ate all day was tons of strawberries, sf whipped cream and sf angel food cake. Not good. I used absolutely no portion control. Just because something is sugar-free does not mean you eat it without limits.

Day 17
Since I had "already messed up"... I started eating the Easter candy. (((cringe))) I honestly, should have thrown it out as soon as the family left on Easter Sunday.

(SIDE RANT: they all KNOW that I am trying to do no-sugar etc. and that we give B *very-very-very* little candy, so why the heck was my house filled with that sort of stuff when they left? Yes, Scott got some candy and little B got a couple of things, but *I* was given a lot of it too. A LOT... peeps, chocolate, etc...Next year, I'm posting signs on the doors! Yes, I know, I sound like an ungrateful piece of crap... but does anyone see my point?)

Days 18, 19, 20, 21...
I convinced myself that I was doing "OK" and I could half-ass it through the week "since I was (partially) on vacation" and "I deserved to enjoy it" and "I had already messed up"...

Bojangles biscuits for breakfast with seasoned fries and SWEET tea. Little to nothing for lunch, (so I could "make up for what I did at breakfast") What a joke. Binge for supper, but convince myself that Subway or something was "healthy" so the HUGE chunk of white bread I was eating was okay.

This brings us to today...

My knees hurt.

I have been eating sugar. (a lot)

No real weight lost.

I have no energy.

Feeling crappy, both physically & emotionally.

Like I said earlier, what a joke.

I lie to myself and I know it.

Guess I need to reevaluate my thoughts and willpower and get back to you...

Hurt.

Sometimes my husband just does not think. Maybe I blow things out of the water.

I mention that this blog seems to help me sort out my feelings about food. He offers a *snort*.

I take five minutes to write a quick post, he and B are nosily tearing the house apart, I huff a bit and say that I am writing. He says "you act like you think you are some kind of author now".

Thanks honey.

He has never struggled with his weight. He eats a LOT. He also works a very physically-demanding job that burns those calories. I am not envious. (at all) He does not understand. Sometimes he tries.

Sometimes I think he just gets sick of hearing me try to deal with my own weight and food issues...

Day 5

Finally, the fog has lifted. Had some sad news last night, but I will not let that be an excuse to eat sugar for comfort.

I am enjoying the lack of feeling hungry all the time and obsessing over food. It is sooo weird though. I am so used to that being the main thing on my mind.

I do notice that by the end of the day, I am dreading eating more veggies or protein. I just keep telling myself that it is just food. It is just fuel.

Now, if I can just make it through the weekend.

McD's

Really? Seriously? Teaching them young, huh? What about this?! Yeah, I've gotten the occasional Happy Meal for my little B. It still makes me cringe though. Now you can have your very own drive-thru.

I just do not think that this is OK. Maybe it is because of my own struggles with food, but ugh. We have a play kitchen for B now, with fruits, veggies, and chicken, etc. that she can cook. I am such a rebel.

On Tuesday I cried.

I realized yesterday afternoon, (while on my way to pick up my precious little girl from daycare) that I simply must do this weight watchers thing to the best of my ability and MAKE it work for me again because I can NOT go have weight-loss surgery. (I guess I should mention that I have really been feeling like surgery is my only option lately. I have been weighing the options and seriously considering it…)

Well, I had just about convinced myself that I should do it… other people’s opinions be damned BUT then I realized that the possibility of dying, either from the surgery itself or complications, would leave my precious baby without me. I pictured her growing up without me. I cried all the way to the daycare.

I cried because I cannot imagine not being around to see her grow up.

I cried because I wondered how she would feel knowing her Mommy couldn’t stop stuffing her mouth, so she tried surgery and something went wrong.

I also cried because it felt like my “only-way-out-last-resort” was crushed because I have no right to be “selfish” and do this for me, when I have a little one to think of.

I cried because I don’t want to die because of a surgery even if I had no child.

BUT then I cried because I feel like I will die anyway if I stay fat.

Then I cried because I have been just thinking of myself lately and it never dawned on me that my fatness affects others...

Then I cried because I am torn and left confused as to where the line is… between selfish and taking care of oneself.

Then I cried because I know even if I got the surgery, I would still have to change the way I eat and I know in my heart I would struggle with that. No one wants to have weight-loss surgery, then turn around and eat themselves back up to over 300 pounds.

Then I cried because if I have to change the way I eat after… why would I not just change the way I eat without a surgery.

Then I cried because I feel like my only option is to do weight watchers, which has kinda worked before, but is, in reality… (Here’s the kicker) THE HARD WAY.