Truths About Dieting

I wasn't going to post about my "diet" this week, I wanted to post something else that was going on in my life. But I am not able to do that because my "diet" is all encompassing. 

It's present when I wake up (Gotta get some water in before I walk my dog), it's present at breakfast, throughout my work day, after my work day, at dinner, and before I go to bed. Is it time to eat next so I don't mess up my planned meals? Am I getting enough water in? How are my steps doing?

It's constantly present, this plan of mine. And while I don't hold it in contempt, I have to acknowledge  it's existence. It's there ALL OF THE TIME. 

The part I do resent is it's ability to ruin my day. Good results make me feel amazing. 'Yes! My hard work, my constant vigil, is paying off!' Bad results send me down a spiral. 'What more can I do? It's not like I can starve myself!' 

And my weigh in did not go so well last week and it sent me to a dark place. 

Because somewhere along the way, my self-worth became tied to the number on the scale. I labeled myself as being "bad" when I chose foods high in sugar and fat. I'm good when I eat a salad or punish myself eating a Lean Cuisine. (that analogy came from my friend, Lily - and damn, did she nail that one on the head!). But it's true. When we're bad, food becomes a punishment.

And fat becomes synonymous with ugly, undesirable, unworthy. Fat jokes are acceptable in any situation. It's our fault for being fat. How dare we take up space in an airplane seat, never mind, that the airlines have been purposely shrinking seats to cram more people in there to sell more tickets? The fault is entirely ours. 

So there I was, shaken to the core. I'm supposed to be losing more than what that scale said. I did the work. I did everything I was asked to do. Yet my body betrayed me. 

I am living this program 24 hours a day. And I didn't feel that I was seeing results. 

I still didn't give up. Because I couldn't, not with all these eyes on me. I didn't cheat either. Because I can't cheat without becoming horribly sick, as I've been warned. 

So I sat and cried. 

I sobbed. And I sobbed and then I realized I might be a bit hormonal too. Which would explain why this week didn't go so well.

So, I reached out to my family and went for a long walk the next day. I also reached out to my therapist that night too. Thank goodness I started therapy, otherwise, I doubt I would be so successful right now. I picked myself back up and took it one day at a time. 

And the next day was better. And the day after that.

And now the results are coming in. I bought myself flowers for hitting a new weight range and leaving my last one (increments of 10). I put my baggy pants in the donate pile (I JUST went up a jean size and seem to be leaving it). And the scale moved down to a 15 pound loss just today. 

I'm envious of people who don't define themselves by a number on a scale or by their food choices. I doubt I'll ever be one of those people.

BUT I am grateful that while I don't like all the extra folds on my body, I don't consider myself ugly. I'm grateful for being able to travel to other countries where body size isn't such a cultural thing. 

And I'm grateful that when I did go dark, it wasn't for very long.