The Click
I have done a lot of thinking about what changed for me when I finally got my act together and changed my life (sounds corny, I know, but how else do you explain it, really?). I think that I have a pretty good idea of what happened for me now, although at the time I just knew that I felt different, and couldn't put it into words.
Ever since I moved to Washington, the holidays have been hard for me. I guess since I grew up with cold winters and white Christmases, it was hard for me to get into the Christmas spirit when it was just grey grey grey and damp, and 45 degrees. Money was always tight, and I missed my family. Every year at Christmas I would get depressed, and this past year it was even worse because I was fatter than ever. Chad and I had gotten married earlier in the year, and it seemed like there was nothing to look forward to, nothing that we were working towards. I felt like I was in a huge rut at work, and a new guy had just started and seemed to have it all, a baby, and another one on the way, and a huge sense of design--something I felt like I had lost completely. I felt tired and yucky all the time, and I couldn't help but thinking that life sucked. Basically, I felt like shit, I looked like shit and I treated myself and Chad like shit. I felt very alone, because my life wasn't everything I thought it was going to be. I was so negative about everything. EVERYTHING. I remember thinking to myself that I needed to get my act together before Chad realised how nasty I was, both inside and out, and left me. But how? When you are that sad and desperate it seems so hard to make a change.
For me, it boiled down to control. I am a bit of a control freak, and really that was part of the problem. I was trying to control Chad and his feelings, and just about everything and everyone else--mostly because I was totally out of control. I realised that I wasn't getting anywhere by trying to control the people and things that there was no way I could control, and that I needed to focus on the things I could control. And I can control what goes into my body. I can control the food I eat. I read Fred's book around this time, and it really made sense to me. I never blamed anyone else for being overweight out loud, but I did cop out on things with "it's too hard" and "I can't" and "That McDonald's was right there" and "I had a rough day, I deserve it" stuff. Once I focused on being in control of myself and nothing else, I realised that I had a choice in EVERYTHING. Nothing *I* do is beyond my control. I started to own every choice I made. Before I ate anything I made sure I was hungry. If I wasn't physically hungry, I asked myself why I wanted to eat, what that food was going to do for me. I separated my feelings from food. I guess I can't really say HOW I did that, other than to say that I realised I am BIGGER BETTER AND SMARTER than anything I put in my mouth. I have control over it, it has no control over me. Basically I got really cocky about my position over food. I made it mean NOTHING other than fuel.
And I got pissed. The more I learned about nutrition, the more I got pissed that we as a nation gave up control to fast food companies, to companies that processes the crap out of food and made it seem as though it wasn't going to kill us. I got pissed that when I was growing up, people (or at least my family) didn't have the knowledge to make informed decisions about over processed crap. We trusted the food companies and the other powers that be to not kill us slowly with refined sugars, enriched white flours, and high fructose corn syrups---and they (maybe unknowingly) just keep churning the stuff out. I got even more pissed when I realised that the GOOD FOR ME food tastes better than the BAD FOR ME food. And when I realised just how huge our portions are, and how we have adapted to them. The more pissed I got, the more control I had over refusing to play along, and eat what commercials and boxes tell me I should. Having the power to say NO, I am worth more than this crap you are telling me is good is a gratifying thing. It feels good to be better than that garbage.
But I didn't say never again to anything. Having power over the junk made it OK to have it once in awhile. The way, IMO that kind of food SHOULD be eaten. I refused to feel deprived. I refused to give up "real" cheese, for example. Cheese didn't make me fat, and I'm not going to live my life with fat free nasty cheese because someone said I should. Instead, I compromised with 2% milk cheese at home, and I cut back on the amount I use and eat. I re-taught my stomach what a serving was, and LISTENED to myself more. When I was hungry I ate, when I ate I did so mindfully---slowly--at when I didn't feel hungry anymore I stopped for several minutes... then started eating again only if I wasn't satisfied. I had/still have a clean plate issue, so I started eating out of a smaller bowl. I put MYSELF in the drivers seat, and took control. I learned a lot about myself in the process, and the more I learned---LET MYSELF LEARN, the easier it became.
Oh, and the kicker: I realised that I wasn't and never will be anything close to perfect. And I don't want to be. Perfect is a hard thing to achieve, and about a million times harder to maintain. I acknowledge my flaws, and appreciate them because they are what makes me unique. I want to be ME and not everyone else... because what fun would be the same as everyone else be? And I realise my mistakes... but I learn from them and move on, rather than dwelling in them and wearing the bad stuff like a weight, I make them positive by growing from them, and knowing what I can and can't handle. Realising what my lmitations are is another key I think.... because once you know what your boundaries are, you can work to change some or all of them, and having goals is very important for me... working towards something is much easier than just floundering.
So here I am, 31 weeks and more than 65 pounds later. I am a different person. I love myself. I am proud of myself. I tell myself these things everyday. I am a success because I said I would be, not because I wanted to be.
