Magic Dog Ears and M&Ms

When I was a little kid, I had a big black dog. She had wirey hair and she looked kind of ferocious, but she just a pussycat at heart. I'd pretend she was a horse and she'd let me put a towel on her back and a leash around her nose while I groomed her. Anyway, she just happened to be scared of thunder. We had a lot of thunderstorms, and she would run to the bathroom and try to hide behind the toilet. I don't know why she did that, but it was quite a sight, seeing this big dog trying to fit between the bathtub and the toilet and squeeze as far behind it as she could (which wasn't very far). There she'd stay, until the storm was over, and no amount of coaxing or offers of treats could get her out of there. So if you had to go potty, you were going to be splayed across the toilet with a big black dog under your legs. She liked to sleep wrapped around the toilet in the summertime, too... guess it was nice and cool under there.

It also happened that when I was a little girl, I had a problem with constipation. When you eat lots of chips, cheese, ice cream and cookies but no fruits or vegetables, that usually comes with the territory. (Forgive me for sharing my childhood bowel habits, but it's important to the story. Trust me.) I would cry in the bathroom because it hurt so much. Well, my mom, who was a flake on some counts but wise on others, told me that when I was going potty and it hurt, I should hold the dog's ear. She was usually in there anyway, so I'd just reach down and hold onto one of her big, floppy, triangle ears while I was sitting on the toilet. And you know what? Somehow, it took the pain away. Just holding the dog's ear, it was like magic.

We all have our magic dog ears in our lives. Things that we turn to for some kind of "support," whether it be for comfort or courage or reassurance. It's kind of like Dumbo and his magic feather. Remember how Dumbo was too scared to fly? He didn't believe in himself until some crows and Timothy Mouse gave him a "magic feather" and told him that the feather could make it possible for him to fly. And since Dumbo believed them, he *could* fly.

Today as I was running around frantically trying to get everything ready for the big trip out of town, I bought myself a pack of peanut M&M's. It was the weirdest thing. I didn't want to *eat* them; I just wanted to have them with me. I wanted to put them in my purse for the trip. Maybe this is kind of messed up, but I have a long standing habit of turning to food for emotional comfort. When I am freaking out about something, frankly, the quickest way to calm myself down is to eat a cookie. I've done it for so long that I can't remember a time that food was not my bandaid. And now that I am making healthy changes in my life, I've not been using food so much anymore. I've used things like exercise or calling a friend or even just blogging to relieve my stress.

But this trip, it's freaking me out. I wrote about it the other day, and while I am calm on the outside, my insides are churning. I am worried about a lot of things. Yesterday, my son told me he thinks he is going to fail one of his classes, and I just broke down and cried. I had to go hide in the bathroom and muffle my sobs with a towel so I wouldn't scare the kids. I just cried and cried, and endless fountain... not just about the class... but about all the other stuff that's bothering me. Then I got it together and went on with life. Gotta be strong.

Just knowing I have some M&M's in my purse is somehow comforting to me. Knowing I will not be stranded in a hotel or at a hospital for hours with no possible way to get my "fix" if I am distressed... well, it just makes me feel more confident. I know. I am weird.

But at least I don't have to go out and find a dog to bring with me every time I need to use the toilet anymore.

Thanks for all the kind words of support! My daughter is excited and happy about this trip because we are going to the zoo afterwards. Hopefully, she will do just fine with the tests, and I'll bring back some great news!

This blog is currently #3 in the 2009 Blogger's Choice Awards for Best Health Blog! If you haven't voted yet, now's your chance :)

See you on the other side...

Stepping Out of Your Comfort Zone

Yesterday, I had the pleasure (not) of walking through a gym a couple of times on my way to my daughter's class there. I say "not" because I am really not a fan of the gym these days. When I walk in there, I feel like I don't belong. I feel like a slob.

It wasn't always like that. Back in 1996, I joined a real gym for the first time. I had gotten up to 201 pounds (gasp) and knew I just *had* to do something about my weight. So I started walking 4 miles a day and going to the gym. At first, I did feel weird about it. It was kindof an upscale gym... a big one with racquetball courts and 3 pools and a lot of snooty people prancing around with their noses in the air. I was one of the fattest people there, even when I got down to 168 pounds. Every so often I would see another fat person, but seriously, it seemed like everyone I ran across was either totally buff and muscled or a bean pole. Oh wait, I forgot... there were a lot of heavy (older) ladies in the water aerobics class. It was pretty fun bobbing and spinning around with them in their floral swim caps.

I remember one time when I was in the locker room, hiding in a bathroom stall as I changed clothes (because there was NO WAY I was going to get naked in a big room full of thin people. Just thinking about it gives me flashbacks to middle school PE.) As I was donning my size 18 jeans, a mom and her daughter came into the room and began to undress.

Teen Daughter: "That was a good workout."
Mom: "I always feel good after I work out."
Teen Daughter: "And we get to stay in shape."
Mom: "Exactly. I mean, look around. You don't see any FAT people here!"

I stayed in the bathroom stall until they were gone.

But I kept on going to the gym, and my body started to change. One day I was walking the track, which had mirrors at both ends. I was walking along doing my miles, watching the normal-weight people whiz by me, when suddenly I noticed that there were NO FAT PEOPLE in the mirror I was walking towards! WHAT?? I got closer and closer and holy cow, I didn't look fat anymore! I was stunned. I mean, I wasn't *thin,* I weighed about 168, but hey, I look pretty darn good at 168. I like my curves. And what I saw in that mirror made me very happy.

Fast forward to last night. I haven't set foot in a gym in about 7 years. And this was a *new* gym, one I was not familiar with. As I walked through with my kids to their class, I felt all eyes on me... literally, because someone at this gym thought it would be a good idea to point ALL the cardio machines at the entrance. As I bopped along, feeling awfully fat and self-conscious, I glanced over and saw all the Beautiful People running, biking, stairclimbing, and ellipticalling along. "I totally do not belong here," I thought. And then I got my wake up call.

As I passed through, there was a big workout room with huge windows, and there was an aerobics class in session. They were doing some kind of step aerobics/kickboxing type of workout. The music was fast and there were probably 20 or 25 rather fit looking young women jumping around like maniacs. I thought, "I wish..." And then, at the back of the class, I saw her. I saw a woman who looked to be a good 270 pounds, going up and down on her step, kicking and boxing and sweating her heart out. I was just in awe. If that class wasn't in session I might have gone over and told her how inspiring she is. She was working SO HARD. Her step was not as tall as the other women's, and her kicks were not as high, but boy was she working it! Wow.

And then I forgot about her.

I went to my kid's class. Watched her have fun and exercise for 45 minutes. It was pretty fun! And then it was time to walk back through the gym to go home. And do you know what? That woman was still there, almost an HOUR later, still kicking and boxing and going up and down on that step with the rest of the class. Everyone was COVERED in sweat. How can anyone do that for an hour?? But there was this woman, still going strong. I am SO PROUD of her, whoever she is. She totally is taking charge of her life and her health. I just love that woman right now for being brave enough to go into that class in the first place... and for coming back enough times to be capable of that level of endurance. Wow.

We have to step out of our comfort zone in order, not to just lose weight, but to GROW. Nothing ever grew without stress. As my mentors used to tell me when I was a teen, "a diamond is just a lump of coal under pressure."

If we just sit around doing what we've always done, we'll keep getting what we always got. Maybe I don't feel like walking or biking every day because it's annoying, or I'd rather watch TV, or people might laugh at me. But if I just take the leap and do it, I'll see results. Maybe I don't want to go searching through the produce section to find new vegetables I've never tried, but if I do, my horizons will be broadened. And maybe it's time to really change things up a bit. After all, how can you expect to change your life without actually CHANGING your life?

"Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved." ~Helen Keller

Challenge yourself. Step out of your comfort zone, and build your health, your character, your life.

I appreciate all of your prayers and thoughts on my last post! I feel good knowing that there are good people out there who care about me and my little girl. All of that kindness has eased my mind tremendously. Thank you!

This blog is in the running for the Best Health Blog in the 2009 Blogger's Choice Awards. It's currently #6! If you haven't voted yet, you can do so here:

Thanks for your votes!
Be well!

Busy Week Coming...

This is going to be a dynamic week... one way or the other.

This week, my husband is coming home again. If you've read this blog for long, you know some background on the husband (and if not, you can use the search box to find out). Anyway, I asked how long he was staying this time, as he generally comes when our daughter has a medical trip and then leaves again. He said, "this is a one-way ticket." I don't even know how to feel about this. On one hand, relieved. Is my two-year stint as a mostly-single-parent over? Will I actually get to shower for more than 5 minutes before having to run dripping wet through the living room chasing my toddler who decided that playing Legos in the bathroom while Mommy showered wasn't as fun as, say, putting Play Doh in the VCR? Will I get to rest when I am sick, take a walk without a kid on my leg, and cook vegetables for someone who doesn't say "yuck?" Wow, it seems like a dream!

But then I remember the bags of candy placed on my laptop, the case of Heath bars left in the bedroom, the nightly crunch-crunch-crunch of chips being eaten. It's not easy being married to a junk food junkie who thinks we can all eat whatever we want as long as we take a walk every day.

Well, it is what it is. I'll try and focus on the good, and see what comes of it. I'll be glad for the company. Maybe.

This week we are travelling several hours out of town to take my daughter for some medical testing and appointments. It's the testing that I've dreaded all year... the appointments that kept getting rescheduled since last summer for one reason or another. But lemme just ask for prayers for my daughter, because she is the one who may be suffering. All I want from this week is for her to be okay. That's all. I don't care about anything else. I just want my baby to be okay.

I don't generally get into my kids' medical issues on this blog, but I'll tell you this. She is having a VCUG (voiding cystourethrogram). She had one before, when she was under 2. It was absolutely horrible. Some kids tolerate them better than others, and some technicians are better than others (which is why we are driving almost 4 hours to get the test done THIS time). Imagine having to hold you little daughter down on a table, naked, legs spread while strangers put in a catheter with NO anesthesia at all. I had to hold my baby down while she screamed in terror last time. I had to hold her down for over 20 minutes while they pumped dye into her bladder, waited for her to pee it back out onto the table, and took lots of x-rays. She had NO understanding of what was going on. She was crying the whole time for me to pick her up and make them stop, and instead I had to hold her down. It was awful.

This time will be different. She is 3, and she is potty trained. She knows what "privates" are and has a sense of modesty. So it's harder in some ways for a child this age because they don't like being naked around strangers, having someone swab their privates, and they certainly DO NOT want to pee on a table or in a bedpan (since they have JUST gotten the whole potty training thing down). But the good thing is, she is older so I can explain. She will know what's happening to a greater degree. I will be there with her, a special therapist will be with us, and she will be lightly sedated. So it *should* be better. I hope. Although kids do react very differently to sedation and some get hyper, or some get knocked out (which wouldn't be good for her other medical issues). But yeah, now I am rambling a bit, but I am/have been a nervous wreck about this for so long. If all goes well on that trip, I will feel 100 pounds lighter by the week's end no matter what I really weigh. Hopefully this test will give good results and she won't need surgery. Please send good thoughts!

Our "extra" little girl won't be going on this trip with us, but she'll be living with us for most of May. So far there has been minimal jealousy between the two girls and nobody has had their eyes scratched out over My Little Ponies.

I hate to say that my weight is on the back burner right now, but it is. I spent the weekend getting out from under the suffocating piles of housework and clutter (and made good progress!) My focus for this week is the kids. My boys have some major homework and projects to get done and will miss a day or two of school for our medical trip, so I'll be helping them with that stuff as well as washing clothes and packing to leave. Between that and the husband stuff, the focus is just not going to be on weight. But the good news is, I won't have the time nor the privacy to binge. So I hope the simple balance will reward me with a maintain for the week.

Thanks for caring :)

Oh the Irony...

So on the recommendation of a reader, I bought a book called Getting Things Done, so I could, ya know, get things done. Which meant I had to add reading this book to my list of things to do. And I've been busy, and stuff is just piling up so I put the book aside because I have some actual THINGS to get done. But this morning, I finally get it together and motivate myself to sit down and read this book for 15 minutes, and the book is freaking GONE! I can't find it anywhere! I lost the book in my clutter. Sigh...

Just a Little Request...

If you enjoy this blog and/or think I am a good writer, I'd love it if you'd show your support and give me a vote in the 2009 Blogger's Choice Awards! There's a black button on the left top corner of my blog. If you click it, it'll take you to vote! Please vote for Escape from Obesity in the Best Health Blog category... and if you're so inclined, you may also vote for it in the "Blogitizer" category (which is a weird name, but it is for the blogger with the "best writing ability"). THANK YOU for your support, for reading, for commenting... for everything!

And while I'm at it, if there is a topic you'd like me to address, or a question you want to ask me, leave it here in the comments and I will write about them in future posts :)

Have a super-great, super-healthy weekend!

Humanity

Earlier this week, a 700-pound woman named Karen Ferguson gained national attention because she cried out for medical help after being stuck inside her home for over a year. A crew of paramedics got her out of her trailer and into a rehabilitation clinic to get the help she needs for diabetes, bed sores, and a broken ankle. She's scared and embarrassed, but hopeful that her "lonely condition" is about to end.

It's sad to me when anyone is suffering. Pain, sadness, loneliness... it's tough to watch. I'd be her friend if I could. After all, she probably suffers from a lot of the same food issues many of us have... just on a more severe level. She had open heart surgery already, plus three surgeries to save her toes from amputation. She needs helpers to get her the two steps from her chair to her portable toilet. She is SUFFERING. And she deserves help.

What kind of reactions do people have when they see this story? Do they cheer for her rescue and pray for her recovery? Do they feel heartened that *someone* out there got this woman help before she died of her complications? Do they think on how wonderful it must have been for this woman to feel the fresh air and sunshine on her skin for the first time in more than a YEAR? Well, some do. But others, not so much.

Society hates fat people. I mean, not *everyone* does, obviously. But there is a real, tangible sense of dislike, if not disgust, for the obese. I've felt it, you've probably felt it too. The comments, the stares, the eye rolls. The name-calling starts in grade school with "fatty fatty two-by-four," but it doesn't end there.

I spent some time reading through about 100 of the 2000+ comments on this news story on various news sites. While there were some compassionate responses, here is a sampling of what people think of this woman... and by association, what they think of obese people in general. Amidst the predictable moos and oinks, we read the following:
(if reading insults bother you, scroll past them to the next line of stars)

****************
how do you get to be like that?

I have no sympathy for people like this. Like a heroin addicted junkie, they bring it on themselves. I already help pay for her medical expenses as it is. She is nothing more than a burden on society.

Fat people cost this country billions in healthcare and billions more in lost work days. Stick that in your mouth instead of a tractor-trailer full of twinkies.

how do you get to be like that? The original recipe was; mindless television, a cornucopia of disgusting fatty foods and low self esteem.

Here's help: STOP EATING!!!

Oh please. have you ever watched obese people eat at a resturant. They can out eat everybody else in the place. Forget about a buffet place. Those third and fourth trips back to the food bar. As the saying goes " you make your bed. you sleep in it. These people freely choose this life style and then expect someone else to pickup the tab.The hell with them. They can lay there and rot in their bed sores.

I can never understand how anyone can allow themselves to get that big, it might sound mean but I have no sympathy for them, there is no excuse for being big like this, the diabetes was brought on from being fat. What is sad is most of the time you see fat people driving those motorized carts at WalMart cause they are too fat to walk. To me these carts are for people with physical disabilities such as the loss of the leg or a stroke, not for being too fat.

Just do yourselves a favor and don't end up as some 700lb pig in a trailer. Finish your degree(s) and make something of your lives.

I am tired of fatties crying the blues once they get to the point of not being able to leave there chairs or beds. take a walk chubby and try pushing urself away from the table

I think we should have stoped giving this woman chances at 400 pounds instead of 700. she is half the weight of my car, when you i think about it, that kinda makes me sick

WHEN SHE REACHED 300 LBS., DID IT NOT OCCUR TO HER THAT MAYBE, JUST MAYBE, SHE NEEDED TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT HER WEIGHT. WHEN SHE REACHED 400 LBS. WHEN YOU HAVE A REACHED A POINT IN LIFE WHERE YOU NEED A HYDRAULIC LIFT AND FLAT BED TRUCK TO GET TO THE HOSPITAL - YOU HAVE NO ONE TO BLAME BUT YOURSELF.I HAVE NO SYMPATHY FOR THESE PEOPLE WHO ARE GIGANTICALLY OBESE.

Fat people are just disgusting , No will power.

They should be ashamed for allowing themselves to stuff their faces like a turkey and getting atrociously big like that. There's NO EXCUSE for anyone to be extremely lazy...repulsive...repulsive...utterly repulsive. You will NEVER have my sympathy for what you did to yourself and, yet, you cry for help when others who have real medical conditions not attributed to sitting on their lazy ass can't get the real help they need.

I choose to work out and keep in shape so I have less to deal with as far as health and medical issues. Sad thing is my health insurance has doubled in the last 3 years -- some of which can be sadly attributed to people like this that won't take care of themselves and want FREE help which isn't FREE for me and you.

Somebody needs to quit feeding this fat glutton. Make her live off of her fat for five years. Being fat is not a disease. It's from laziness and gluttony. There are no fat people in Africa where food is scarce.

Quit shoving food in your mouth. Its not a problem that cannot be solved by using common sense.

I have no sympathy for anyone that eats so much they can't get out of bed. These people are a waste of food and oxygen.

Does this woman not believe in heaven? In order to get into heaven you have to fit through the pearly gates!

If this pathetic woman had any will power, she would never have allowed herself to get in this disgusting condition. People like this gorge themselves and consume far more than there share of the world's limited resources of food, energy, and health care. Then they whine, "help me" and expect everyone else to contribute even more to the upkeep of this weak blob of fat.

There will be a day, when the earth is even more resource-poor than it is now, when this behavior will be a crime.

Just let her die, I'm sick of spending tax money rewarding people that become too fat to be a productive member of society.

Talk about a drain on the taxpayers. This reminds me of a tee-shirt it said; "When is somebody going to do something about how fat I am?"

I don't feel sorry for her one bit... no one held a gun to her head and told her to eat. Diabetes does not make you get like this, not putting the fork down makes you get like this. If she had a little self control she wouldn't be in this situation.

The obese person wants to blame desease for their weight. Not true! They simply eat way too much every single day.

She did this to herself, she has no one to blame but herself. If my behind is getting big then I go to the gym.

I'm sorry, this lady is just plain lazy and fat. No pity from me and this really isn't news.

Quit eating so much!!!!

A person gets to be that weight out of sheer laziness and getting the diagnosis of diabetes just gives an excuse. This woman was too lazy to take care of herself in the beginning, which is leading to this in the end. If she didn't care enough to keep herself out of this situation, there isn't much motivation for others to want to care for her.

****************

Do you see the generalizations here? Do you see, as I do, the same attitude about fat people that you see in everyday life... just magnified times three because she weighs 700 pounds instead of 250? Do you feel the judgement, not just for her, but for you, me, and any other person who dares to weigh more than society says they should? Why? Why the hate?

Do you not think that if this woman *could* change her circumstance, she would? Do you think she *likes* being stuck in her house in pain? Is it fun for her to have all those surgeries? Is she choosing to be that way? Or is it somehow out of her (mental, emotional, or physical) control?

I'm not here to judge. Heck, I've gotten more than my share of moos, oinks, and get-off-the-couch-you-fat-lazy-pig comments in my life. People tell me that if I wanted to be thin, I'd just do it. And I see someone like this, who is suffering in a monumental way, and is seemingly helpless against her condition. And I realize that I am on the same scale as she is. I'm just at the less severe end, and she is at the extra, extra severe end of the same disorder. That's my assumption, even though there are obviously complicating conditions in her case that make it even harder for her to be healthy.

You people who think all of us fat people are lazy, useless, smelly blobs... think again. We're all the same. Same as you. People. People with heart, soul, thoughts, feelings, hopes and dreams. We are all the same.

Some people, they see a bum on the street with a HELP ME sign and they drive by and spit in his face and shout, GET A JOB, LOSER! They don't know he is somebody's Daddy, somebody's son, somebody who lost everything because he got sick or because his child died or his house burned down. They don't see that he was a baby long ago, cherished and loved in a mother's arms as she rocked him and sang to him, kissed his soft hair, caressed his tender skin and cherished his laughter. They don't see his humanity. They see a bum.

Some people, they drown kittens they don't want because they're an inconvenience. They see a "cute" puppy and give it cuddles and treats, but they see an "ugly" puppy and kick it across the street and throw rocks at it, laughing as it yelps and bleeds. Seem wrong? It is wrong.

Stop the hate. We are ALL the same.

FREE 30-Minute Shred Workout

Yep, right here! I am giving EVERY reader a FREE 30-Minute Shred Workout!! Aren't you excited? Now you have no excuse not to work out... just do the Shred Workout and you are set!

No, I did not say 30 DAY Shred (ala Jillian Michaels) and I did not say video. But I found a new workout that will shred the heck out of your legs and abs and leave your arms and shoulders begging for mercy!

Just take your kid, go to the grocery store and pick out a big, heavy, defective cart that is shaped like a race car, with two steering wheels... the kind meant for haggard mothers to help keep their passel of children strapped into some contained area. Think of it as a mobile daycare device. Anyway, if you don't have a kid, borrow one that's 30 or 40 pounds or just put some big sacks of kitty litter in the seats. Now I want you to walk through every grocery aisle twice, pushing this thing and adding heavy stuff to the cart in each aisle. Now the key to this workout is that the cart has to be DEFECTIVE. It has to have wheels that seem like they are stuck in the mud. When you push it, you'll have to put ALL your weight into it, tighten your abs and lean into it... hard. Imagine taking a full grocery cart to the beach and pushing it through the sand for 2 miles. (Hey, Jillian, how about THAT for a Biggest Loser workout idea??) Anyway, when you get through every aisle twice (if this is a "superstore"... but you'll have to go 3 times if it is a small grocery) then you will see... I mean feel... exactly what I mean by SHRED. If you can get a kid who will tantrum right at the end of the exercise, you'll get a mind shred too.

I just got home and every muscle in my body is like wet noodles.

I bought:
spaghetti squash, zucchini, yellow crookneck squash, baby carrots, organic apples, organic strawberries, a mango, a weird yellow fruit I have never seen before and nobody knew what it was, and a head of cauliflower. At home I already have Clementines, ruby red grapefruits, onions, bagged salad, baby spinach, a yellow pepper, a tomato, an avocado, 2 artichokes, watermelon, a pineapple, bananas, celery, broccoli, and of course frozen veggies like peas, Brussels sprouts, etc.

Feeling good... good and tired.

True Self

Today I realized I really missed myself.

Maybe you have no idea what I'm talking about, or maybe you know exactly what I mean. When you're sitting around, avoiding everything (tasks, people, feelings) and shoving snacks in your face, you lose yourself. The real you gets buried somewhere under the sugar, salt, processed junk. You cannot be your true best self in a food haze.

Yesterday I pretty much turned it around. I didn't want to and I didn't really feel like it. I felt like eating my favorite junk like I've been doing since I got sick. It's hard to get back on track... I'm sure you know. Things were piling up... literally. I have this counter between my dining room and my kitchen that is the general dumping ground for all paperwork that needs to be dealt with. Kids walk in from school and hand me stuff... I put it on that counter so I won't forget about it or lose it. Bills? In the file folder on the counter. Notes to myself of things to do, papers I need to file, coupons, etc... all of it goes there. Yes, I have a file on the counter, and I do sort my mail immediately when it comes into the house. But somehow when I am losing my mind in food, the counter reflects that. It is currently piled about 8 inches deep with paper over the entire surface. You can always walk into my house, look at the counter and know exactly how I am doing emotionally.

Anyway, yesterday I ate no junk. Staying away from junk made me grumpy and gave me a headache, but it also cut 4 pounds off my body that I had regained. And it helped me sleep better. This morning I woke up refreshed and didn't hobble to the bathroom. I had my Chai tea and a bowl of pumpkin flax granola with skim milk, and then got started on the housework. I opened all the windows to let the fresh air and birdsongs in, and started cleaning. Three loads of laundry, a sink full of dishes, and 2 hours later, I had a relatively clean space to work and freshly mopped, Geranium-scented floors. I still need to vacuum, but I will.

Why is this even important? It's important because *this is the true me.* The true me is happy, energized and optimistic. She loves springtime and summer, fresh air and yes, even cleaning. She loves the feeling of having a fresh clean house, and she even likes the tired feeling in her arms after she mops a thousand square feet of tile floors. Do you see? Eating the right things frees my true self! She is no longer hidden under loads of fat and self-loathing, misery and despair. My true self is NOT that woman who sits on the couch eating Cheetos and wishing things were different. THAT woman is a figment of the sugar fog. And she doesn't even notice how unhappy she really is.

The real me is here now. Still fat, sure. But I don't *feel* fat when I eat right. Putting fruits and vegetables and whole grains into my body makes me feel strong, youthful, and happy. I don't know why I ever choose otherwise.

I really did miss my true self. But I think she is going to hang around awhile... I just fed her some cantaloupe, and she loves cantaloupe!

Be your real, true self. She is there, just waiting for you to unlock the door.

A Moon Pie from Heaven

There was this Moon Pie in the cabinet today. Yeah, I know. I know. Funny thing about this Moon Pie. I am not really fond of Moon Pies, but a couple weeks ago when I was buying for the kids' Easter baskets, somehow I thought, "hey, a Moon Pie would be a better choice for them than candy!" So I bought them each one for their baskets. Turns out Moon Pies are the devil incarnate for your arteries, but I digress. So my daughter decided she did not like anything marshmallowy, and her Moon Pie got shoved in the back of the snack cabinet. And I forgot about it.

So I went about my day nourishing myself with healthy stuff like steel cut oats, green tea, cantaloupe, apples, peanut butter, whole wheat bread, zucchini, mushrooms, salad... that sort of thing. Not really because I wanted to, but because I wanted *not* to eat junk. I wanted *not* to keep spinning my wheels, so even though I didn't particularly *feel* like eating healthy stuff, I just did it. I just didn't give myself a choice.

Somehow, after dinner my "caring" about losing weight drops off the radar, and I am often thinking about some kind of treat I could have. I scavenged the cabinets. I don't have sugar AT ALL in my house. So imagine my surprise when that Moon Pie dropped out, like a gift from heaven. Yeah. The clouds parted, beams of sunlight came through, and I smiled and stuck it back in the cabinet for later. After the kids are in bed. Ahh. Yeah. I will have that Moon Pie and tomorrow will be a better day. Who cares anyway.

Then I sat down and watched a video of last week's Biggest Loser, which I didn't get to watch til today. And when I looked at Tara's before and after shots, I got all choked up and got tears in my eyes and ran into the kitchen, pulled that Moon Pie out of the cabinet, and smashed the hell out of it while shredding the wrapper over the trash can. Bye bye Moon Pie.

I got a lot done today. Child's dance class, shopped for trees, brought home a new maple and helped my son plant it. Cooked a real dinner, cleaned the kitchen, did some general picking up and paperwork and made phone calls for various appointments. I even managed to get in 2 loads of laundry AND filled my daughter's wading pool. Watching her play was lots of fun! Tonight I am going to bed WITHOUT a full stomach, without any junk in my system. And that's a really good feeling.

More tomorrow.

Levels of Satisfaction

Back when I weighed 280 pounds, it was really difficult to enjoy much of life. Even when things were going well, I wasn't happy on the inside. The fat acceptance people would say, "let it go. Just accept yourself and enjoy life at the weight you are. Stop trying to lose weight because THAT is making you miserable." But I couldn't *enjoy life* in that condition. I'd wake up every single morning in pain, hobble to the bathroom and in my early morning, half-awake fog, my first thought would be, "I hate my life."

I didn't really hate my life. And I felt terribly guilty for even having that thought. I hate lots to be grateful for, including my wonderful children, my home, and my lack of *worse* medical conditions. But I *was* suffering needlessly, because it was something I could control... and that made it even worse. I knew that all the missed playtime with my kids, the sedentary lifestyle, the vacations where I was merely an observer of family fun (if not a hindrance to it) was MY fault.

Now listen, I am not being hard on myself. True, I have some kind of wacko binge eating problem. True, I needed to learn how to eat. I had knee problems aside from the weight. But it was still in my control all the time. It was still me making the choices every day, every moment to give up life for a Twinkie. It was me who was shoving Kit Kats in my mouth knowing full well that I would not be pleased with the consequences. I was trading a real LIFE for a piece of cake. Or, more accurately, 4 pieces of cake.

When I lost weight, I was happy. When I got down to 230 pounds, I was satisfied. NOT satisfied in the sense that it was enough and I could just quit losing weight, but satisfied with my quality of life. I could walk, I could move, I could clean my house. I had new clothes to wear that weren't 26/28's with bursting seams and holes in the thighs. It was a new level of joy, waking up, feeling great and optimistic and energetic.

But today, I realized that that level of satisfaction is gone. In fact, I woke up this morning, hobbled to the bathroom, and heard the faint whisper, "I hate my life." I stood in the bathroom and thought, "when did it go back to THIS? when did this happen?" I am still about 230 pounds, but frankly, I feel 280 again.

I'm not depressed. I do not hate my life. It's weird, how that voice whispers in my head in the morning when I am unhappy. After I wake up and start going about my day, I'm not sad or upset. But you know what? I'm not energized anymore. I feel like the same morbidly obese slug I was 2 years ago. WHY?

Because I've been eating crap. I haven't been exercising. I stopped doing the things that contribute to good health for me. Oh, sure, I have maintained most of the weight I lost. I'm not on the verge of regaining all that weight, because I truly changed my life when I lost weight. And I have kept up a good part of those changes because they were not part of some fad diet. They were REAL changes, like drinking lots of water, eating smaller portions, enjoying more produce, and cooking with healthier ingredients. And they were enough, even without any more effort, to keep me at this level of weight. But I'm not happy at this level anymore. I want to reach a new level of satisfaction.

I want to feel energized again. I want to wake up and hear the birds singing and see the sun shining, hop out of bed and be eager to greet the new day. But that ain't gonna happen by buying a tub of frozen cream puffs and eating half in one sitting. I may weigh less than I did 2 years ago, but I am still doing the same mental battle as I was when I was morbidly obese. I'm just doing the "I'm Trying" dance between 220 and 230 pounds rather than 270 and 280. And it's not making me happy.

Last night as I stuffed those cream puffs into my mouth I thought, this has got to stop. This is ridiculous. It's the same old game every fat dieting person plays with themselves. Get up, declare you'll eat healthy today, do fine for half the day and then see some yummy food you want, so you eat it and think, "Oh, I will start over tomorrow" and you eat some more crap for the rest of the day. Then tomorrow you do the same thing. It's ridiculous! I played that game for ten years and I'll be darned if I am going to let myself slide back into THAT mindset without a fight!

It's a gorgeous day outside, but those cream puffs are coursing through my body, causing aching joints, making my belly bloat out like I'm 9 months pregnant, and fogging up my brain. It's not just about sugar or white flour or South Beach... it's about giving my body what it NEEDS to function well.

It needs a lot of vegetables, fruit, and lean protein to function well.
It does not need processed junk, 100-calorie packs, Splenda-sweetened cookies, and diet sodas to function well.

I need to reach a new level of satisfaction. I'm going to be forty years old this summer. Enough is enough with this game playing. It's not even about WEIGHT as much anymore as it is about quality of life. Weight does play a part... my knees need to be carrying less. And it's frankly astounding the difference in my body and abilities when I weigh 214 pounds rather than 234 pounds. That twenty pounds makes an absolute WORLD of difference in my quality of life. But it's also just about feeling GREAT instead of lousy because of the things I am putting into my body.

The time is ripe, the Farmer's Market is opening very soon, and the weather is great for outdoor activity. I'm going to make this happen, for me. Starting now.

Teeth or Shoes? More on priorities...

When I was a kid, I hardly ever brushed my teeth. I dunno why, I guess it wasn't really important to my parents (both of whom, by the way, had false teeth). Yeah, I got the lectures at school where we chewed on those icky red tablets that stained your teeth to show you where you needed to brush better. And they always gave us the demonstration with the fake plastic chatter-teeth, and sent us home with toothbrushes and floss. But I don't remember ever flossing until I was in my teens, and until then I probably only brushed a couple times a week. The only real example I had of dental hygiene was seeing Mom and Dad drop their teeth in a glass of Polident every night. It just didn't matter that much. Until I got cavities.

The dentist tsk-tsked at me every time I went. He drilled every tooth in my head until my entire mouth was full of metal fillings. Then I figured I was home free! No more possible teeth to fill. But he said, "You can still get more cavities between those teeth, and on the sides. If you want to keep your teeth, you have to start taking care of them." So I did.

When I became an adult, I didn't get cavities, but I had a new problem. In my late 20's, all those metal fillings that were in my mouth before I turned 13 were cracking, falling out in pieces, and causing cracks in my teeth by expanding and contracting. I ended up needing a couple of root canals when those fillings failed. It was sheer misery, and for years I had nightmares about my teeth crumbling to bits in my mouth, and spitting them out into my hands. Oh I was brushing and flossing and using dental rinse, but the damage had been done early on, and there was trouble ahead.

One day I went to the dentist to get another metal filling replaced. I actually couldn't afford to have the work done, but when your tooth is literally falling apart, it has to be done. So I saved, sold things, and got in there ASAP.

As I sat in the chair, the dentist gave me more bad news. "ALL of those old metal fillings are failing," he said. "They're all in need of replacement. There is slight decay under every one of them, and my advice is if you want to save your teeth, replace all of these metal fillings with new, nonmetal ones." I said that would be nice and all, but I don't exactly have ten thousand bucks lying around to pay for it. I didn't have dental insurance, either. He started going on about a payment plan, how they would take monthly payments for the dental work, just a couple hundred bucks a month. "I can't afford it," I said.

"You can afford it." He replied. I stared blankly. What did he know of my finances? "Anyone can afford it. It's like time. People say they don't have time to brush and floss thoroughly, but oddly enough they have time to watch TV." Hmmm. "Money is the same way. You afford what you want to afford. There is always something you can give up to get what you want. It's just about priorities. It's about what is important to you. If you really want to get your teeth fixed, you'll just make it the priority and cut back on other expenses." He went on about cable TV, Internet access, brand name clothing, high-cost versus low-cost foods. Cut back on eating out. Just stop going to the movies on weekends. Anyone can afford new teeth.

I understand what he was saying, but he was wrong. Dead wrong. Sure, he was speaking from *his* experience... from the life *he* has. But I didn't have cable TV. I never went out to eat or to the movies. I was a divorced mother with four small kids, and I was wearing the same clothes for years or buying them for $2 on clearance, and my kids were wearing hand-me-downs.

To pay for my $10k teeth, was I supposed to stop paying the mortgage? How about the car payment? Maybe I could give up gasoline to get to work.

I was making $7 an hour and it was frankly *not enough* to even feed my kids. We ate from the food bank for free. We bought Ramen and bologna, rice and beans. There's really no way to cut back on that. My kids were already going for a few months too long without new shoes, because I couldn't afford them. When the holes got so big that their socks were hanging out, the next paycheck went for shoes. When the kids needed backpacks or school supplies, I'd sell a piece of furniture, jewelry, or some other item of value I had to get what they needed.

When my power was already shut off for non-payment, how was I supposed to pay to fix my teeth? My kids didn't even have beds; they were sleeping on mattresses on the floor. It's really not like I had anything else I could cut out to pay for dental work.

But the dentist didn't get that. He saw my "I can't afford it" as some lame excuse for not wanting to spend the dough on my teeth rather than on my luxury vacation or getting my fishing boat polished. "If you want to afford it, you will."

Okay, he was right. I did not do *everything* I could have. I could have become a drug dealer or prostituted myself to get some money for teeth... but if things got so bad that I was doing *those* things, I am pretty sure I'd still have used the money to buy my kids a winter coat and some food before I bought shiny new molars for myself.

Things are way better for me now. I quit that dead-end job, got my bachelor's degree, and became self-sufficient. I remarried and created a home for my children where they *always* have what they need... clothes and shoes in good condition, beds, food. And I even went and got my teeth fixed after all. But it took me nearly ten years to do, and a huge change of circumstance.

My point in all this is, it's not always a matter of picking your priorities. I *wanted* my teeth fixed, but there was just no possible way for that to happen. Not without sacrificing my house or my car and putting my kids through a lot of misery.

It really is about choices and balance combined with circumstance. We do the best we can with what we have.

Today I *wanted* to mop the floor, but the kids needed me. I decided to spend time with them instead. We had a lovely time.

Today I *wanted* to take a mile-long walk or a bike ride, but my right knee has deteriorated over the past 3 days so that it hurts to even get up or sit down. I am in pain, so I settled for a short walk to the park instead.

Today I *wanted* to cook dinner but by the time I got home from essential errands, I felt like I was going to crash. So we had bananas and cantaloupe, whole wheat crackers and cheese and hummus instead.

Now I really *want* to go to bed, but no one else does. I have kids out fishing, kids out earning money mowing the neighbor's lawns, and a daughter playing My Little Ponies at my feet. When everyone is settled, when the homework is done, when I get the dishes washed and the toddler tucked into bed, then... then I think I will just RELAX a bit tonight, gear up for a very long day tomorrow, and get to bed around 10.

I am forever grateful to that 30-year-old single mother who refused to accept the state of things *as they were,* but instead worked and fought to get out of that dismal state and improve her life. If she hadn't kept trying, my kids might still be wearing shoes with holes, eating stale food bank donuts for breakfast, and sleeping on mattresses on the floor.

We can't always have what we want, even with the best of plans. But maybe, if we keep trying to improve our circumstances, eventually things will fall into place.

Goals, Priorities, Life

Well, it seems like yesterday was the pinnacle of suffering (PMS-wise), and today it's over for the most part. I did manage to get outside with the little ones yesterday for several hours and take a short walk. I soaked up some sunshine, too, and that always helps my mood.

I have so many goals and dreams. I've been trying to figure out how to tackle things in an efficient way so I can "get everything done." It's not working so far. My friend Karyn wrote a perfect post yesterday describing HER feelings, but was like she was reading my mind! I feel exactly the same way: too many crises, too much stuff to do, and why the heck is it so hard to stay on top of the housework?? You'd think after being a mom for nearly 2 decades I would have a system worked out...

Well, I sort of do. But things get in the way.

I've been trying to figure out where in the mass of "to-do's" my weight loss falls. I mean, is it priority #1? I want it to be. My health is essential for accomplishing *anything*... including being a good mother to my children. So I have tried to put my health at the top of this list. Which would look something like this:

1. Shop and prepare healthy meals and snacks.
2. Walk or bike for 30 minutes daily.
3. Get enough sleep (7-8 hours).
4. Strength train 30 minutes 3x/week.

Simple, right? But I can't neglect the basic stuff. I mean, being clean (and my kids being cared for) is ultra-important too. Like this:

1. Take a shower AT LEAST every other day.
2. Bathe the little kids.
3. Brush and floss daily AND help the little kids do the same.
4. Laundry so we all have clean clothes, towels, sheets.

But I can't let the house go to heck, either. Especially with children, it is important to stay on top of the basics. I mean, I will never have a spotless house, and toys do not always get put away every night, but the basics HAVE to be done, like this:

1. Wash dishes
2. Trash goes out
3. Bathrooms get cleaned
4. Kitchen, microwave, stove, fridge all get cleaned
5. Floors get mopped once a week, and vacuum twice a week
6. My bedroom and little kids bedrooms get cleaned
7. Dusting is done once or twice a week (allergies make this pretty important)

Yeah, ok, so if I can do all of the above, I should be great! Oh, wait, I forgot:
1. Doctor, dentist, specialist appointments almost weekly
2. Speech therapy appointments for my child twice a week
3. Dance and gymnastics for kids twice a week
4. Oh yeah, sports are starting up for the kids...
5. Yardwork! Uh oh...

But there is the general to-do list, too, of things that I can't ignore:
1. The car needs an oil change
2. The other car needs a leak fixed
3. My dog needs his heart checked
4. The vacuum needs me to fix it
5. My daughter's sandbox needs sand
6. I need a haircut and I need to color my half-grey hair
7. I have to take a load of yard waste to the dump
8. My son needs new glasses
9. My other son needs his driving permit renewed AND I need to spend time driving with him
10. The carpet needs to be shampooed

Then there's
1. School meetings
2. Helping kids with homework every night
3. Teaching my daughter to read and write and add
4. Paying bills, sorting paperwork, essential phone calls

So if I can *somehow* prioritize this stuff, what about:
1. My goal this year of getting the photo albums put together (I have ten years of photos waiting)
2. Trying to get my house decluttered
3. Working on my marriage
4. PLAYING
5. Relaxation
6. Blogging (essential to my sanity)
7. The many, many other small tasks on the to-do list that NEVER get done because they are never the top priority.. but the still should be done (replace an old burned out light fixture, fix the ceiling fan, paint the fence, shorten the blinds...)

I don't know how to prioritize this stuff. I already have my kids helping by doing some laundry, sweeping floors, helping take out trash, unloading the dishwasher, mowing the lawn, weeding with me, setting and clearing the table, feeding the pets, babysitting when needed, and scrubbing their own bathroom. I have my housework on a schedule... the basics anyway... but let one unplanned thing happen and it throws off the works.

So today, do I take my son for his back x-ray or do I walk for 30 minutes? Do I do insurance paperwork tonight or do I wash dishes and chop vegetables for tomorrow? After kids are in bed do I soak in the tub, or work on photo albums, or mop the floor, or strength train? Or just go to bed early so I can get my sleep (early meaning by 11pm)? When I am done blogging do I read with my child or vacuum, or do I take my son for a drive?

I'm always multitasking; blog and pay bills while sipping my morning tea and waking up. Wash dishes while helping my son with homework. Walk the dog and stop at the park to play on the way and pack a healthy snack to enjoy there. But at some point I have to recognise that there are only so many hours in a day.

I do not want my life to be bogged down by chores and mundane tasks. But I have to do them. I want to accomplish my goals (like weight loss, fitness, doing the kids' photo albums) while ENJOYING life, playing with the kids, building great memories swimming and hiking and cheering them on while they play soccer. I need free time. I need sleep.

There has to be a way to get it all done. I just haven't figured it out yet. I am working on it. I know millions of people all over the world have kids and chores and responsibilities. How do people do it?

Today I weighed in at 234. Not good, that's up 8 pounds. I know a couple pounds of that are retained water from the PMS. But I am back off the sugar so that should help. And I will walk or bike... maybe even strength train or try the new yoga DVD I bought. After I take a shower and wash the dishes and clean out the microwave and blow bubbles with my daughter :)

Tough Times

I am *so* not doing well right now. My PMS is killer. I am going to the doctor again for it in 2 weeks to see if there are any new drugs I can try (nothing has worked yet, including hormonals/birth control). I cannot function well this way! I have had a migraine for several days which is why I didn't post yesterday and almost didn't today (and if I make no sense, please forgive). The migraine has visual disturbances and I see auras and halos. It also causes mild but annoying nausea. The cramping is bad, and I am taking pain stuff. But I feel so horrible.

Stuff is complicated in my life at the moment. You already know I have five kids. A friend of mine died a couple years ago and I also have her boy here frequently for weekends, etc. I love him and try to help watch over him now that she is gone. And this week I was also given a little girl my daughter's age to care for. I won't go into details but she'll be living with us most likely through the end of May at least. My daughter is happy to have a new "sister" to play with and I am glad to do it. However, of course this causes a bit of stress (getting her to preschool each day, etc) and I have to get a bedroom set up for her today. If you have a "spare bedroom" like mine, it is actually a storage area piled high with stuff, so I have a lot of sorting and moving to do.

My daughter goes to the hospital at the end of this month, so we will be out of town for a few days then. Again with the invasive/painful testing stuff, so I am ramping up for that. And my husband is coming back also at the end of the month but I don't know for how long.

I also have to go in for my cervical cancer check again soon and cross my fingers for another clean result. I really DO NOT WANT anymore surgery. I want to be done with that chapter of my life. I just need to be healthy.

That's my life right now, and prayers/good thoughts are appreciated. Weightwise? Oh man, that has gone to the bottom of the list. I haven't weighed in days. Bad news probably. I am still making a half-hearted effort (yes I did have one SMALL slice of birthday cake at my son's party, but I stopped there). After I made his cake, I dumped the rest of the sugar in the trash (I had to go buy a small box of sugar to make it, but don't want sugar hanging around here). So I am getting back off the sugar and hope to be 100% sugar-free within a couple of days.

This morning as I stood in the kitchen making tea with my killer migraine, I had a bit of "sugar hangover" from the cake, too. I was looking through the cabinets and found half a bottle of Starbucks coffee syrup that I used to add to my coffee. I took it out and started pouring it down the drain.

As I stood there, feeling hung over, holding the tall, clear bottle and pouring the syrup out, I had a bit of deja vu. It was not unlike the time when I was 17 and decided to stop drinking alcohol, because I didn't want to grow up alcoholic like my mother and some of her family. I stood at the kitchen sink and poured bottles of alcohol down the drain, way back then. This morning, as I watched that syrup disappear into the sink, it was not unlike watching vodka disappear and knowing its the beginning of a new life. Empty bottle in the trash; new lease on life.

I hope by Monday I am feeling better. Have a good weekend.

Heaven or A Sausage?

Today is the first day that I have been successful (so far) in cutting the sugar and refined carbs back out of my diet. I had gone about 3 weeks "eating clean" and felt SO wonderful. I'd lost a good chunk of weight. And then I got that stomach bug... ended up unable to keep down anything BUT refined carbs (saltines, cream of rice, 7-up) and then ate a bit of candy/sweets after Easter. But I knew... I just knew I had to get back off the sugar again in order to restore my food sanity.

This morning I had an Egg Beater omelet with asparagus, mushrooms, ham, and light cheese, plus some tea. Great start! And then I went out shopping.

I went to the store with the intention of getting just 3 things I needed. One of those things was in the freezer aisle. On my way there, I passed the deli counter. I was absolutely overcome with the desire for a deli sandwich. Fresh, soft-and-crispy french bread with deli meats and cheeses and all the extras. I stared at the sandwich counter as I walked past, nearly running into a young lady in the process. I was going into some kind of food trance. I don't know how else to describe it. Your head just "goes" to the food and the rest of the world stops turning. But I kept walking.

I still had that sandwich on the brain, with the usual head-battle running in quiet tones in the background ("you could eat a sandwich, it's healthy except for the bread. It would be ok." "NO! I need to get off carbs." "But you want a sandwich...") I just ignored it for the most part. Even as I went past the bakery, and got distracted by the donuts for a minute, I just kept walking. I refused to allow my head to STAY with those foods because I was just not going to buy that stuff. Then I got to the freezer aisle.

I stopped, looking for the one item I needed. But instead, I saw cream puffs. I saw frozen desserts, and a whole aisle of ice cream. I wanted ice cream!! Something with a lot of chunks of candy in it. I could get SUGAR FREE ice cream. I would find something for diabetics. I'd go home and enjoy the premium, yummy, sugar free ice cream and still stay on plan. Uh, no. Sugar free ice cream is still very high calorie, and guess what? It's a trigger. A binge trigger. If I was gonna eat ice cream, I may as well buy Ben and Jerrys, or Haagen Dazs. I actually walked over and started looking at the little pints of ice cream. I stood there and suddenly I was almost in tears. WHY is this so hard? WHY does stupid, junky sugary food call to me this way? I wanted a deli sandwich, a Coke, a donut, some Doritos with sour cream, and a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream!!!! WHY couldn't I just have it?

Oh I got upset in that store. More upset then I have gotten over food in a long time.

I knew it was my choice. I *could* have it. I could afford it. It was right there for the taking. And THAT is what made me so upset. I DIDN'T want it. But I did.

It isn't just a want, it *feels* like a need. It feels like an addiction. A longing. A desperation.

But I don't want to be a slave to my desires. I don't want some stupid food to dictate my life. To tell me how big I will get, whether I'll be able to walk in a year, whether I will have a heart attack before I am 50. I don't want to turn over my ability to play with my kids or fit into my clothing to an ice cream bar. I don't want it to be like this.

I left the store without any of that stuff, but I was truly upset. I felt angry that I was not letting myself have the things I wanted. I was sad that I would not be coming home with my "best friends" to enjoy in solitude... bite after bite, spoonful after spoonful going into my body in secret. I knew if I ate that stuff I would enjoy it. I would LOVE the time I spent eating it. But then I would be upset with myself for failing YET AGAIN. So I came home, angry the whole way, feeling deprived and resentful, with PMS cramps and a splitting headache.

I walked in and warmed up some split pea soup for my lunch and ate it, took some Excedrin, and sat down here to blog. And do you know what I found when I sat down to blog? Two things.

1) a comment on my last post, from athena, referencing this article about why certain foods make us crave MORE foods. Athena also took the time to leave a quote from this article: "Other researchers have described similar phenomena. An article in this month's Medical Hypothesis argues that for some people, refined foods with high sugar and carbohydrate content can be just as addictive as tobacco and alcohol."

I believe it.

And when I looked up THAT article here, I found this:
"In this paper we discuss evidence that food consumption shows similarities to features of other addictive behaviours, such as automaticity and loss of control. ... Empirical scientific and clinical studies support an addictive component of eating behaviour, with similar neurotransmitters and neural pathways triggered by food consumption, as with other drugs of addiction."

2) an email from an anonymous reader who wanted me to know that my posts about my relationship with sugar resonated with her. She is a recovering alcoholic, and the way I DO NOT WANT to eat sugar but feel I "have to have" it anyway is very similar to alcoholism. Her story touched me deeply... because I absolutely understand that feeling of wanting to stop, but not being able. With her permission, here is part of what she shared. See if you do not totally relate to her experience, as I do, but with food:

"My drink of choice was wine, and I would drink 2 1.5 liter bottles of wine every night (that's four regular-sized bottles, but it was cheaper to buy the bigger bottles). I would waken the next day, so hungover, miserable and sick, and swear off the wine. But by 4 pm that same day, I was at the grocery store, laying in my supplies for that night - and only that night, because I was going to taper off. Some nights I would promise myself that I would only have 2 glasses of wine, and would just buy a small bottle. I fully intended stick to the two glasses, but once I got that first swallow down my throat, the craving for more was overwhelming. I was stuck, because I would never drive after even one glass. I would resort to drinking either the vodka that was in the pantry or the rum that I kept on hand for my rum cake. Neither of which I particularly liked, but I had to have more alcohol. I would drink until I passed out, wake up sick, and start the whole ugly process all over again."

That is EXACTLY what I have gone through with food. Exactly.

I did a little more reading today on substance abuse. I found 3 different professional publications listing the criteria for a diagnosis of SUBSTANCE DEPENDENCE.

From the International Classification of Diseases (ICD)-10:
A cluster of behavioural, cognitive and physiological phenomena that develop after repeated substance use and that typically include: A strong desire to take the drug, Difficulty controlling use, A higher priority given to drug use than to other activities and obligations, Persisting in use despite harmful consequences, Increased tolerance, Sometimes, a physical withdrawal state.

From the DSM-IIR:
At least 3 of the following criteria would be seen for a diagnosis of substance dependence: Substance often taken in larger amounts or over a longer period than intended, Persistent desire or one or more unsuccessful efforts to cut down or control use, A great deal of time spent in activities necessary to get the substance, use the substance or recover from its effects, Important social, occupational or recreational activities given up or reduced because of substance use, Continued substance use despite knowledge of having a persistent or recurrent social, psychological or physical problem that is caused or exacerbated by the use of the substance, Substance often taken to relieve or avoid withdrawal symptoms.

What do you think?

I am sure I have a physical dependence and addictive type problem with sugary foods and refined carbs. When I wanted that ice cream, I DIDN'T want it. I really felt almost powerless to the inner desperation for the ice cream. And I used to BE powerless. I *always* bought the stuff that I was craving, because NOT buying it was more painful for me than buying it and being fat. But there came a day when being fat got to be more painful than fighting the addiction. And that's why I am not morbidly obese anymore.

Okay, so all these words... what's the point? The point is, frankly, to EDUCATE myself and others about what is going on, to TEACH myself how to react in a more favorable way to these cravings, and to DISTRACT myself from how bad my headache is, how intense the PMS is, and how badly I want (and DO NOT WANT) to get back in my car, go back to the store, and buy that ice cream.

I dunno what the rest of my day will bring, but I do know that I have been 100% successful so far today. I know the PMS and the headache will pass. I know that I have learned and changed enough over the past year and a half to at least maintain in the 220's... so that I no longer believe I will ever regain back up to 280 pounds or more. I have made permanent changes that allow me to stick around THIS new weight. But like stair steps, the weight is going to go down again. Because every day I learn something new about myself, about food, about life. I am learning to cope. I am making better and better choices every day. It's not perfect, but eventually, I will get to where I want to be.

I am, however, going to have to abstain from sugar, I think, for the rest of my life. And I am getting closer and closer to accepting that. When I lived in the south, I taught a Sunday School class for teenagers. Part of the lesson we were having one day was about how, in heaven, all the people and animals will be at peace. Lions eating grass, laying with the lamb, etc. "But what about ribs?" said one strapping boy. "Ribs?" I said? "Yeah! If we won't be able to kill animals in heaven, what about barbecue ribs? And sausage? What about burgers?" "Well, " I said, "I guess we won't eat meat in heaven." Every teen in the room gasped. And my good ol' boy teenage student crossed his arms and replied, "I don't want to go to heaven if there ain't no ribs. No biscuits 'n' sausage gravy? Come on now. That ain't heaven. I ain't goin.'" And all the other boys in class shook their heads in agreement.

I felt that way too for awhile. If I can't have cake and candy bars, then what's the point in living? I couldn't imagine NEVER having another peanut butter cup or a loaf of French bread slathered in butter again. But you know what? I am finally to the point where I want heaven more than I want a sausage.

Sugar Misery

Last night, I heard the call of the old sugary, chocolatey ghosts of the past whispering to me to make brownie batter. Now, you may remember that a couple months ago I actually emptied an entire sugar canister into the trash in an effort to free myself from Batter Obsession. You really can't make a decent brownie batter without sugar (and if you can, please don't tell me!), just as you can't make chocolate chip cookie dough without chocolate chips. So I banished sugar and chocolate from the house for my sanity's sake. And it worked.

Then a couple weeks ago, one of my high schoolers was given an assignment for a class: make a specific, teacher-generated recipe which contained white, granulated sugar.

I went to the store and bought the tiniest box of sugar I could find. It only had about 2 or 3 cups of sugar in it and it was far more expensive than a big bag of sugar, but it was worth the price to NOT have a bunch of sugar sitting around the house.

My mistake was NOT throwing the rest of that sugar away after my teen had used it.

So last night I was wandering around the kitchen, wanting chocolate (feeling pissy because I hadn't really indulged for Easter, perhaps? Plus the PMS monster is upon me). I took that little box of sugar and poured it into a cup. It was about 3/4 cup of sugar. I quickly whipped it together with butter, cocoa, egg beaters, and flour to make a batter, but as I stared at it, I thought, "I am NOT going to eat this bowl of brownie batter. This is just wrong." I licked the spatula and put the batter into an 8 inch pan and baked it.

It was a step in the right direction, because I generally don't like brownies unless they are *perfect.* They have to be chewy on the edges, crackly on top, firm enough to hold (but just barely) and fudgey and rich inside. No cakey brownies for me, yuck. So, ya know, my baking was designed to stop me from EATING all the batter in the bowl (which I easily could have done, and have done in the past with 2 or 3 times as much batter).

After they were baked, though, I had the nerve to decide that I *would* like a cakey brownie *IF* it was frosted. So I melted some butter, tossed in some cocoa and powdered sugar, and frosted the brownies. And ate 3 of them. FOR DINNER.

It was a bad idea, not only because I had had a rough day already (not enough veggies, a midday run to McDonald's, and not much else) but also because my body was no longer used to that amount of sugar. I've been "off" sugar and carbs for the most part for about 3 weeks now.

This morning, I woke up SO SORE that I wondered if I was a) sick or b) had been beaten up in the night without waking up. I literally hobbled out of bed. Every muscle, every cell ached. My head was throbbing (it still is). I felt nauseous. I groaned and got out of bed. I was also having bad cramps and a backache from PMS. It was sheer misery to even try to get up and function. I felt toxic. As well I should... sugar is a poison to me.

Well, I had some green tea and a bunch of water and I'm making a point to "detox" from the gross food I ate yesterday. Back to the healthy choices.... back to protein and veggies and stuff that makes me feel good rather than bad. I don't have any cravings... except maybe for watermelon. Mmmm.

One of my kids has a birthday coming up this week, which means a homemade cake, ice cream, and a dinner out. But ya know, I have *no* desire to eat crap, even on a birthday. If anything I may have a half slice of cake, but the rest of this week I just want to get back to the comfort of eating real food. Stuff that nourishes my body and gives me energy to live.

Learned Helplessness

Back in the 60's, scientists decided to run some experiments by shocking dogs to see different effects on their behavior. Some dogs were put into harnesses from which they could not escape, and every so often they'd get a shock. Of course, all the dogs tried to get away from the shocks and made attempts to get the shocks to stop. It's natural to want to avoid pain or discomfort. But only one set of dogs had a way to escape: if they pressed a lever, it would turn off the shock. The dogs quickly learned to press the level to end their torment. But the other group of dogs... no matter how hard they struggled or what they did, they had no control over the random shocks. They could cry and fight to break free and press levers all they wanted but nothing they did ended the pain.

Next, experimenters took these two groups of dogs and put them in a box with an electrified floor. (Are you mortified yet for the poor dogs?) The box was divided into two sections with a low divider, and when the floor started shocking them, all they had to do was jump over the divider into the other side of the box, where the floor would not shock them. If you put any "unconditioned" dog in a box like that, they basically have a standard reaction. They're standing there, minding their own business and suddenly their paws are getting shocked. They start jumping around trying to get away from it and they almost immediately jump into the other section of the box to escape. But something interesting happened with the dogs who were shocked in harnesses previously. The dogs who had learned to turn off the shock by pressing a lever quickly learned to jump over the barrier to get away from the shock. But the dogs who had no way of turning off the shock in the harness just laid down on the electrified floor, whined, and "took" the shocks. They didn't even try to jump into the other side of the box or get away. Why? Learned helplessness.

Those dogs had tried before and "learned" that they were helpless to escape the pain, and they "believed" that there was nothing they could do to change their circumstances. Similar behavior is seen in humans who are in very unpleasant conditions. Imagine being stuck in poverty in a dead-end job, working long hours, barely making enough to feed your family. In many countries, that's the norm. And maybe sometimes people try to come to the USA or do something else to improve their circumstances but they fail. After several attempts, most people just give up, accept that they can't change their circumstance, and keep working in the sweat shops because they have "no control" over changing anything. Or think of the woman whose husband is beating her, keeping her from going out, forcing her to do things she doesn't want to do. She may try to escape a few times but if that husband catches her and brings her back... perhaps by threatening her children's lives... she often will give up and stay. Even when the husband is gone to work and she has a "chance" to escape, she stays. She has learned she is helpless, and she no longer believes that she can change her own circumstances.

I really believe this is why so many people "can't" lose weight. Think about it. You decide at some point in your life to lose weight. You probably don't have all the tools you need to do it successfully the first time, so maybe you try some fad diet. It doesn't work. You try something else, but that doesn't work either. After several attempts at "pushing the lever," you realize that nothing you are doing is ending the pain, and you start to feel that your weight is completely out of your control. You think:

I can't lose weight.
It's too hard.
I must have something wrong with me.
I try to diet but I always fail.
I have tried over and over and over but I just stay fat.
I always regain any weight I lose.
This is impossible.

And then you lie down on the electrified floor and take your shocks, without even realizing that there is another side to your box... and if you'd just jump over, you'd be able to escape.

Learned helplessness.

But why, then, do *some* people keep trying until they lose weight? Why do some people break out of abusive, controlling relationships or escape from poverty, while others stop trying? Scientists say it's all in the attitude. If you blame your conditions on some external factor, you'll stop trying to change it. If you BELIEVE that things are out of your control, then of course you stop trying. But the optimistic person... the person who thinks logically about the circumstance... is more likely to break free.

I didn't get away from my abusive husband this time because I didn't save up enough money first. I will do that next time.
I didn't get away because I didn't have a plan. Next time, I will talk to some family or friends and have some help escaping the abuse.
It is not my fault he hits me.
I didn't get that new job this time, but I am sure there is a better job out there for me.
I am intelligent, and I deserve better than this.
I didn't lose weight this time because I kept sugary snacks in the house. I'll get rid of them and try again.
I regained the weight because I didn't exercise. I will build an exercise routine so I can increase my odds of success.
I can lose this weight. It is in my power.

Studies have shown that about 2/3 of people with "learned helplessness" stay that way, while about 1/3 actually learn how to get out of that mindset. So yes, even if you tried and tried and tried to lose weight, and now you feel helpless and believe it is impossible, you can change YOUR OWN mindset by changing your thoughts.

Stop blaming your genes. Stop making excuses. Don't say "I tried so many times and failed." Fall down 50 times, get up 51. Believe in yourself.

I'm not helpless anymore. I know there's a way out. If I could show you how to jump the barrier into the other side of the box, I would! Maybe that's what I am trying to do with this blog: not just escape, but help others realize that THEY can escape, too. You don't have to just lay there and get shocked. We're not helpless! Believe.

Sugared-Up Kids (of the past)

Happy Easter! If you had been at my house in years past, you'd have seen this sight:

Kids with baskets loaded with POUNDS of candy... everything imaginable! A few springtime toys sitting next to their baskets: a water slide, water guns, Frisbees, sidewalk chalk. But the focus was the candy. I used to pile the candies high in the baskets and top them off with those miniature boxes of Fruit Loops and Cocoa Krispies (for breakfast!) As soon as the kids rolled out of bed at 6am, you'd see them shoveling chocolates in their mouths, glassy-eyed and trembling with sugar-rush. Not that chocolate was *that* exciting, really. Sugar was a pretty regular, daily foodstuff for them back in the day. But still, they shoveled it in. Not unlike their mother.

Last night, my teens asked, "Will there be any candy in our baskets tomorrow? Or just non-candy stuff?" It surprised me that they'd ask. I guess they really have noticed over the past year the dramatic decline in sugary/junky foods. And oddly enough, I think they'd have even been okay with completely "non food" Easter baskets. I might even try that next year! But this is how it went:

Yesterday I took my two youngest kids to an Easter Egg hunt. I have fond memories when my older four were little and we'd go out to these events. They were always SO excited! I miss those days... now, they're pretty much too old to care about that kind of thing (and too old to participate anyway... it's for ages 12 and under). But I got another taste of the vicarious thrill of the toddler hunt with my daughter this year! She raced around with her Easter basket, picking up plastic eggs in the grass until they were all gone... collected by a huge swarm of toddlers with baskets. This year, I was surprised and pleased that all the plastic eggs contained toys, rather than candy: stickers, little planes, rings, tattoos, bouncy balls. She had a great time!

Then, at home we continued the usual tradition of dyeing hard boiled eggs. We dipped and painted and stamped and drew until we had a good amount of beautifully decorated eggs.

Last night, I prepared a pan of French Toast to sit overnight in the fridge and bake in the morning. (For those interested... a loaf of sliced cinnamon swirl bread, tucked tightly into a 9 by 13 pan in 2 layers... then I poured over a whisked-together mixture of 5 eggs, 2 cups of milk, 3T sugar, cinnamon, vanilla, and a dash of salt. Then covered it tightly with plastic wrap and left to soak in the fridge overnight. Baked at 350 degrees for 45 minutes this morning). I also made some lean sausage links and orange juice. We sat down this morning *before* any candy was consumed for a nice family breakfast.

The baskets:

Yes, there was candy. They each got the traditional chocolate bunny (nothing gigantic, just small ones). They each got a Moon Pie, one favorite candy bar, 3 "gold" chocolate coins, and ten or so foil-covered little chocolate eggs. The boys each got 3 Little Debbie oatmeal pies, and the toddler got some marshmallow Peeps.

The older kids' baskets had things they would each enjoy: swim goggles, white-out pens, pencils, a video, a boomerang, cell phone minutes, scented markers, and a couple of $2 bills. My daughter got some necklaces, a princess book, markers, a couple of tiny My Little Ponies, and those silly "pill" things that you put in water and they turn into little sponge animals. She was THRILLED.

No one is going nuts with the candy, either. I think they plan to savor it since they don't get it very often anymore. And later today we will do our own Easter egg hunt in the backyard, finding plastic eggs that I filled with jelly beans, quarters, and golden Sacajawea dollars.

Oh, and there's one other difference you'd see if you could peer into the past and compare it to today. Instead of seeing a 278-pound mother desperately shoving chocolate into her mouth all morning, with piles of shiny foil wrappers all around her, today you'd see a 227-pound mother sipping her coffee and not the least bit interested in ANY chocolate candy, with NO plans to sneak and snatch peanut butter cups from her children's baskets later. Now *that's* a big improvement!

Have a wonderful Easter. Be good to YOU today. Enjoy your life, breathe the air, and smile! Life is not just about chocolate anymore.

The Easter Excuse

I'm a little worried about Easter. All the candy and yummy food choices that traditionally surround the holiday are swimming in my head. And getting back on track after days of sickness has been a little hard. Not *too* hard, but not easy, either. I'd been eating pretty low carb for two weeks... doing South Beach Phase 1 (tweaked for my own preferences) and had dropped nine pounds. It was not difficult and I was enjoying it. After a few days, my cravings were gone. I hadn't eaten ANY sugar, flour, grains, crackers, bread, cereal, etc in those two weeks but I wasn't missing it. But after days of puking my guts out repeatedly with the flu, my stomach was *very* sensitive. For a day, all I could take was liquids: chicken broth, a bit of juice, and 7-up over ice. Ahhh... sugar.

The next day I ate a few saltines. "Bland diet" for GI recovery is basically carb city: plain toast, crackers, cream of rice, stuff like that. Dairy is off limits (because of "intestinal upset" issues) and the thought of trying to digest anything fibrous like fruits or veggies made my stomach hurt. And meat? Perish the thought.

So for a couple of days I was trying to get my stomach to accept ANY foods without rebellion. I had success with the crackers, bits of toast, and noodles. All those refined carbs were quite easy on the stomach, but sort of screwed up my whole mode of low carb eating I had going for me. And yesterday, the first day that I felt well enough to eat more normal foods (but still not many vegetables), I had a couple slices of cheese pizza, a turkey sandwich on focaccia bread with tomato and avocado, and then... after dinner... 3 little chocolate eggs!!

Yes, the Easter monster reared its ugly head. It wasn't nearly as bad as in past years. There was a time in my life... a few years of binge misery... when I looked at Easter as an excuse to indulge in foods that I couldn't normally find in stores or wouldn't usually cook. I was a single (divorced) Mom, so there weren't any other adults to keep me in check. I'd go to the store a month before Easter and buy just about every "special" Easter candy imaginable: Peeps, chocolate bunnies, Reeses eggs, malt ball eggs, even jelly beans, which I don't even like! I'd hide them in the closet "for the kids," and then every day after they went to school and when they were in bed, I'd eat some of the stash. After a week, it would be almost gone, and I'd "have" to shop for more. I'd get all the things I'd missed the first time: marshmallow bunnies, coconut eggs, foil-wrapped eggs. And I'd repeat... eating them during the week. Later, when I'd "replace" the stash again, I'd admit to myself that I was buying for ME. I'd replace all the junk for the kids, but I'd add some "special" stuff: Lindt bunnies, Russell Stover Eggs, and truffley things. I'd buy Easter cookies and cakes and buns. I'd buy potato chips and Doritos and Coke. Because the Easter stuff wasn't enough, and of course I had to have some salty stuff to counter all the sweet.

By Easter, you'd think I was done, but no. I'd dutifully dole out ALL the candy to my kids' baskets. I'd watch them eat. The cute little darlings would offer me some of their candy and I'd say thank you and take it. And after they were asleep, I would tiptoe in their rooms, dig quietly under the Easter grass, and steal a couple more candies.

I am SO not going there again!! EVER!!

But yesterday I got into some kind of Easter frenzy at the store. I hadn't gotten anything yet for Easter, with being sick all week and being gone the week before, so I had ONE HOUR when my daughter could go into the store's supervised play area and I could do all my Easter shopping. I walked alone down the aisles filled with gloriously colored boxes and bags of candy, and I started to go into some weird zone. I wasn't *craving* anything. It was like auto pilot was trying to take over and I had to stop my arm from reaching out and putting one of EVERYTHING into my cart. As it was, I started grabbing way too much. I was spending a lot of time standing there staring at the candy and fighting with myself about whether to buy it or not, and people were probably wondering what the heck I was doing. I was still feeling slightly ill and tired and I didn't really have a plan set into place ahead of time. (I was *going to* make a list of non-candy items to get for each of my kids' baskets, plus a few of their favorite candies... but being sick screwed up that plan). I was going around the store throwing things in my cart willy nilly: "this looks good, that looks good..." and I was *wanting* sugar because I had been eating nothing but refined carbs for 3 days. I told myself I could choose 3 small treats for myself, for Easter day. That I would not eat any other candy or junk until then or after then but I'd "let myself" have a couple of special treats. Before I knew it, I had grabbed a coconut egg, a 4-pack of truffle eggs, a mini Toblerone bar, and a chocolate bunny for myself. Along with that, I had thrown in some bags of mini eggs, mini Reeses cups in cute pastel foils, jelly beans, and chocolate bunnies for the kids. But that wasn't enough. I was on a roll. I grabbed regular candy bars for their baskets, too... and chocolate covered cherries. And a box of Little Debbies cakes. And some Moon Pies (one for me!). And the bakery had chocolate covered cake eggs so I grabbed those too.

Then I stopped and looked at my cart and it was like I had an out-of-body experience. The body, standing there with a cart full of junk because it was "tradition" (habit), and the healthier, new me floating over myself saying, "What the hell?????" I saw the junk and I was saying stuff like, "What about some toys instead for the kids?? The kids do NOT NEED all that crap! They will inhale it all and feel sick! YOU DO NOT NEED A MOON PIE! Little Debbies are disgusting... what are you doing?" And I stood there taking it all in and realized I only had 10 minutes left to shop, and I didn't know what to do.

I know some people read this and make a judgement. Maybe you have kids who you have always raised without junk. Maybe your teens eat healthy stuff all the time and only get a candy once in a blue moon. Maybe you don't have any kids but you "know" you would never give your children junk. Or you have a toddler and a 6 year old who have never had a bite of candy in their lives. Hey, more power to you. That's your life. This is mine.

Mine was shaped from a past where my mother fed me chocolate ice cream for breakfast from the time I was 2. Where an after-school snack was a bowl of potato chips and dip, and dinner was Pizza Hut. My life was shaped by never seeing a fruit or a vegetable in my refrigerator as a child, and having not even the most basic understanding of nutrition and food choices. I improved on that when I had kids of my own, nearly 19 years ago, although my husband *did* used to feed Ramen to our oldest when he was a baby.

With each child, I learned more. I wanted to do better for my children. I began to study nutrition, and by the time our oldest was 3, I had figured it out. We started growing a garden and I made all of my third child's baby food from scratch. My little ones ate carrots and corn and green beans straight from the garden. We didn't buy junk... if we wanted a cake or cookies, I made it from scratch. I went out and cut the rhubarb off the bush and picked the strawberries out of the garden with my little ones shoving them into their mouths the whole time, and came inside and rolled out some homemade pie crust and made a strawberry rhubarb pie. It was still sugar, but at least it was homegrown, homemade, and a special treat. But as I've shared before, once we moved to the city and I got divorced, all bets were off. Working for minimum wage and trying to feed four kids from the food bank is a nutritional nightmare. And sadly, my older kids grew up eating a lot of the very cheapest foods (Ramen, corn dogs, frozen burritos, bologna) supplemented by Food Bank donuts and day-old cakes.

They have a taste for junk, but they're getting better. Candy doesn't come in this house very often anymore, and neither do chips or other junk food. (You'd be appalled at the crap they get served in school lunches, though). My youngest, who is 3, has never had a soda and if she tastes sugar, her eyes get really big and it is a very unique experience for her. Five M&M's a couple times a year is a very big deal to her.

So why was I in the store buying all this crap??

I put a few things back on the shelves, grabbed some Silly Putty, a video, some outdoor toys and books and art supplies, and checked out. I'll get some of those gold-coated dollar coins from the bank today, too, and put those in some of the plastic eggs. Oh, the older ones will definitely get too much candy in their baskets, but it'll be less than it used to be, and it'll be special. Because they don't get this kind of thing all the time anymore. And I can't wait to see the face my daughter makes when she puts a marshmallow Peep in her mouth! I'm thinking it will be almost like therapy for her oral aversion issues... so sweet she will want to try and eat it, but she will have to work through the texture issue first!

Yeah, I ate 3 little eggs last night. And yeah, I actually did buy that little coconut egg for myself. I dunno if I will eat it on Easter or not, we'll see. I might end up throwing it out. And I dunno how I am going to address my eating plan right now either. I usually make french toast casserole and sausage for Easter breakfast. I am considering making a reduced sugar version of the casserole and some reduced fat sausages. And I usually make a spiral sliced ham and some (artery clogging) cheesey potato stuff for Easter dinner, but the potatoes are not happening the year. The ham, maybe, with some fresh steamed asparagus. We'll see.

My goal for now is to get back on track with healthier choices. I don't need anymore days of crackers and toast. I'll try and get some protein into myself today... beans, maybe a nice veggie soup too. I have to get some produce into this body. And I really, really need to get moving again. So a mile walk is on my list for today, pushing my daughter in her stroller.

Have a happy (and healthy) Easter weekend!