Food Police, Give Me a Break

Many of Us know all too well the long-term problems we’ve had dealing with our weight and food issues.  We don’t deal with those in isolation:  we have families, friends, work colleagues, doctors, WW leaders, casual acquaintenances, and strangers on the street who all feel it’s their right and responsibility to show us the error of our ways.  Sometimes it’s done with love; other times with harsh words of judgment and failure to live up to expectations – often of things we set for ourselves.  The same comments mean different things depending on whether we’re in the zone of sticking to food plans and eating “good” food.

My experience has really only been as the fat person being criticized, er, supported by the healthy perfect person reminding me that chocolate is bad, that my portions are too big, that I didn’t have enough fruits or vegetables, that eggnog is full of fat, that candy canes are pure sugar, that I should drink water instead of soda, that a cookie will destroy my food balance for the rest of my life.  Okay, they don’t say that part, and usually the statements are made one at a time.

But honestly, do the people saying things to the fatties not realize that we’re not stupid and that we already know that stuff?  We’ve heard it most of our lives and it’s as though we put hands over our ears and sing “la la la la la la” while they say the same thing over and over. It’s not that they’re wrong.  It’s that it’s a judgment and a reminder that once again we have failed.

Which, in my case, usually means I reach for another cookie, tho I’m trying not to.

I do understand that people who are in a healthier place than I am do not want to enable me or those like me to continue eating to our destruction.  I get it, really I do.  At some point, though, your words to prevent enabling simply become thorns in the side or ignored completely.  The epiphany to change happens inside and rarely in response to a same-old same-old “you screwed up again” comment.

So if I may make a suggestion going into the holidays — try just loving the person as they are right now, warts and all.  Just for a little while.  Without constant criticism or judgment, without reminders of failure, without suggestions that now would be a good time to go on a diet.  Have healthy options available, from small yummy clementines to lean proteins and fresh veggies.  Note that low-fat ice cream is a healthier option than the full-fat kind.

But also remember that, for most people, a Christmas cookie or two won’t kill us.  And often being able to eat something tasty in public, without evil eyes being cast, means there’s less of a craving to sneak into the kitchen when everyone is occupied to stuff the face with half the cookie jar just to prove that we can eat what we want.

Of course we could overdo things.  Trust us, we’ll know it when we do.  Love us anyway – and tell us so.

Jen is Thoughtful and Wonderful

My good friend Jen is exploring intuitive eating and learning how to pay attention to what her body says, and the things that are getting in way.  Her blog entries are thoughtful and full of insight.  I strongly encourage you to go read today’s post, More on Anger and Recovery.  Just, wow.

I’m Not in a Very Good Place Now

It’s been hard for me to read most of the weight/diet/exercise blogs these last few weeks.  Although you are all writing about yourselves and your own lives, I read and feel judged and lacking – and realized today that it was because (duh) I was judging myself against your successes and ripping myself up inside for not measuring up.

I am morbidly obese.  I’ve gained and lost pounds so many times and am just so sad that I’ve gained back enough that I finally gave away four winter coats in smaller sizes – so that other people can stay warm and so there’s room in the closet for something that covers me.  My knees are bad and I drink too much diet soda.  I don’t exercise as much as I should.  I’m in reasonably good health, all things considered, but it could be better.  I don’t expect to live as long as the thin women my age, and frankly, that’s okay with me; but I want the kitty to be cared for, so that’s a motivator to take care of myself.

I’m not saying this because I want your pity, your sympathy, or most especially your advice.  I could write the book on how to lose weight because I’ve lost it so many times.  I just haven’t found the *click* inside that lets me keep it off.  I hold myself to ridiculously high standards of perfection that set me up to fail, then feed myself comfort food to feel better.  Yes, counseling is a good idea.  I know it, and you’ve told me a dozen times.  Please don’t tell me again; we’ll consider that advice already given.

My Christmas trip to visit family, which should bring joy, has me tied up in knots.  I know we’ll have the Weight Conversation, the Diet Conversation, the Health Conversation, and of course the Church Conversation – and, given the election results, probably the Political Conversation.  The morbidly obese non-churchgoing liberal Democrat is on her way, crying inside that the people who most understand me aren’t related to me and won’t be part of my celebration.

But it’s not just about me.  Christmas is about family and tradition and being there for them in their lives, even if being there stresses me out.  I can deal with it for a week and come home to my small world, my routine, my solitary-ness, my kitty.

I’m a good person, a good friend, an excellent librarian, a loving cat-mama.  I’m smart enough to work at Yale and if I’m old enough to belong to AARP, I’m old enough to make my own choices.  I just need to own them.

I don’t want to diet. I want to eat sensibly in moderation, to enjoy a variety of food, to ease the stress on my knees, to be comfortable in my body and with myself.  That may be mutually exclusive.  All I can do is try and take things one small step at a time.

Happy 4th

This being July 4th and a day for picnics and parties and fireworks in celebration of our nation’s birthday, I was invited to a picnic by a buddy from the morning bus.  She asked me to bring a dessert and in my laziness, I decided brownies were the way to go.  Open a box, dump in some eggs, oil and water, stir, bake, and voila! Brownies.

Feeling virtuous, I didn’t even buy the box until this morning and whipped up a batch when I got home from the store.  Unfortunately by the time they were cooled, the picnic was cancelled because of expected thunderstorms.  Which meant there was a box of ready to eat brownies sitting on my counter.

Did I do the smart thing and demolish them in the disposal?  No.  Did I smush them up so they were unrecognizable?  No – and anyway, that wouldn’t change anything because they would still be brownies, just in a different shape.  Did I pour dish soap or some other revolting (and sick-making) substance on top?  Yes, but not until I ate about 1/4 of the pan.  Okay, maybe 1/3.  No, 1/4.  I made myself sick overeating something I didn’t even expect to have in the house and wouldn’t have bought or eaten if I’d been anywhere else. The remains of the pan are now in the trash, liberally squirted with Dawn and worchestershire sauce, but the damage is done.

The bad news is that I ate them without listening to my body enough to know that it was saying, “This is enough, you can stop now.”  The good news is that they are now in the trash, I have healthy groceries in the fridge, and tomorrow is another day.  And there is WW on Sunday morning, where I will step on the scale and hold myself accountable.  I don’t have to wait until Sunday to be more in controlle tomorrow.

Since I didn’t go to the picnic, I worked on The Closet Project today and have now successfully weeded through the closets and cedar chest. I still have the dresser and a box of reserved smaller things to evaluate.  I must say it’s pretty liberating to use the lens of “would I buy this again?” instead of “would I wear this again?”  My bags of clothes will go in the car tomorrow and popped into clothing donation boxes so they don’t get in the way.  Someone else will be thrilled to have the things that have no more value for me.  A Win-Win situation for everyone.

Day One Again

Went to WW this morning and am up 1.6 lbs over the last two weeks.  Since I was eating pretty much everything not nailed down, it’s not at all a surprise.  I confess that I stopped at Dunkin Donuts on the way home and had breakast of a coffee roll and a small bottle of OJ — but I accounted for that and still managed to only use 1 flex point for the day.

My big accomplishment was not going into the grocery store.  I didn’t need to go, having made two different runs (at different stores, for different things) and a trip to the farm stand for fresh local veggies.  But this morning I wanted more more more of something snacky.  I drove to the store and parked in the lot, but sat there for a few minutes before getting out of the car.  From somewhere I found the wherewithall to just decide not to go in today. If I entered the store, I knew I would not be able to not buy something I would regret later.  So instead I just started the car, turned around and went home.

I did not starve.  I ate a big healthy salad with edamame, vegetables, and protein, plus cherries for lunch.  Dinner was a pork chop, corn on the cob, big fat Canadian tomatoes, and a bowl of fresh strawberries with pudding yogurt for dessert.  A rich fudgy low-fat fudge bar made a satisfying snack.  I’m floating away in water and Crystal Light but am full and ready to stop eating.  Food for tomorrow is planned out.

I’m just taking this one day at a time, remembering my goal of 10% of my current weight off by Christmas.  It’s doable.  Today was Day One.