This Inner Battle I’m Determined to Win!!!

Looking at an overweight woman, if you hear her say, “I’m happy with myself, I like myself, I just don’t like the woman I see in the mirror!” would you believe her? I am just that woman. I do like myself, definitely appreciate the woman I’ve become, but when I look in the mirror all I see are old hurts.

In my Focusing on the Positives of ME post a few days ago I wrote, “the lady in the middle of this protective package of weight”, and that has stuck with me ever since. When I let my fingers ramble on like that there can be some easy truths type out. It, the weight, has been protective. I can’t tell you how many times (not so much the last five years) I had thought about losing weight, and it actually scared me! As much as there can be the odd comment or insult about being this size, which I had never in my wildest dreams thought I’d gain to, there is also an aspect of being overweight I had found safe. People tend to ignore you, acting like you’re invisible. Of course ‘invisible‘ is hardly posible! Yet whether it’s their attitude about excess weight, their disgust in fat, or just choosing not to see the real person within, didn’t matter. The fact that I was left alone a lot of the time was comforting. Don’t get me wrong though, it wasn’t all the time. Where there is comfort you’ll find strife! I recall the times when I felt terribly lonely, or struggling with a very old and familiar anguish I felt in the half dozen years after the ex left.

Yet when I think about the comfort zone of weight, what I really mean is I felt safe. Men didn’t see me, and if they did it was through fleeting brief glances. So many years my self esteem dwelled in walks along the water logged beach found at the bottom of the ocean. It had sunk that low! I didn’t feel competent at anything, not as a mother, friend, lover, nothing. In fact, despite the fact I knew I could do anything in the career I graduated in honours from, I didn’t feel confident enough about my ability to do the job in a manner pleasing to the boss, and I didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of having to work in the city. I do believe my mother’s death at the end of my final semester, and the pull to go back home and help with the family business were both a bit of a crutch to my insecurities. Those things were an excuse. I went through some horrible processes in my grief, and when it came to my daughter, who was only four at the time, feelings of terror tore through me with thoughts of being away from what was familiar. Moving back home felt safe. It would be a decision that came with slight regrets later on.

When I look at myself in the mirror, I see ME! I don’t see the bulk of a woman captured on my daughter’s new cell phone, or the one whose loved ones whisper about her when I’m not there. “Oh no, she’s gained weight back!” “Oh, I just wish she would do something about her weight.” Or, the one that some really thought I didn’t hear, “Oh my Gosh, I can’t believe how big she’s gotten!” Even though I don’t say anything, I can see it in their eyes, their concern and shock, and I’ve heard their whispers, and I’ve felt shame and embarrassment as a result. The fact that anyone is disappointed in me creates a huge disappointment with myself.

The thing is I know what I ‘ought‘ to do, and I can see myself where I want to be. However, the inner comfort zone, that place where I can feel safe in my weight and avoid the fear of change, still has a lot of pull. When I attain success in this weight loss journey it’s all good – until I realize I’m doing good – then it’s like alarm bells sound off! The pull into that comfort zone becomes the ’sabotager’ at large!

Those of you who have found success, have you ever had this kind of inner battle?

Imagery for Peace of Mind

Sometimes someone can say something to you, and it strikes a chord of annoyance. This happened tonight. Add to that the sadness I was caught up in from a television show and I find myself in the midst of a stirred up next of mental snakes. Sometimes to whittle them out I type, just open my mind and let my brain talk through my fingers – journeying, otherwise known as journaling. What comes out never cease to amaze me, and tonight was no exception.

Imagine if you will two paintings hung in a gallery. In the first the sun is shining and an old man and woman sit rocking in wooden white spindled rocking chairs on the veranda of a white clap board house. Both look straight ahead, but looking closer you see their fingertips touch. There’s serenity in their expressions, obviously happy and content in each other’s company. Walk along the wall where that painting is hung and you will see another. It’s the same house but much of the paint has gone, and what little bit remains is tarnished, cracked and badly peeling. The bare wood on the side of the house faded to a dark dingy gray long ago, and the veranda looks weak and warped. The same two rocking chairs are empty. They look as though they would crumble beneath the weight of anyone daring enough to sit in them. The old couple is nowhere to be seen and it’s obvious the home was abandoned long ago.

Along the bottom of the second painting you notice a date, June 12, 2030 and beside it the word ‘after’. Then it occurs to you. Backtracking to the first painting you confirm what you had barely noticed in the first painting. It has a date is also painted along the bottom. It’s the same as the other painting, June 12, 2030 but the word beside it is ‘before’. How is it they both have the same date in opposite circumstances? There is no way a house could deteriorate that much in one day. After some time you turn away from the paintings and come face to face with an elderly woman. She’s the woman who was sitting in one of the rocking chairs of that first painting! She realizes you’re staring and gives you a warm smile. ‘Isn’t it amazing how much destruction can come when love goes awry?’ she says before she turns and walks away.

Now the above story is not real, but something that poured through my typing fingers. What I understand most is the second painting, but what this story means could be debated until the cows come home. Where some creatively express in other ways, I do it through writing, and I like the imagery this piece creates. More than that, I like the calmness and smile of the older woman before she spoke and walked away. In her I sense peace and confidence.

If you just let your fingers do the talking, what imagery would you create, and what scenario could you show your peace with?

Focusing on the Positives of ME!

Lately I’ve been reading more than I have in a long time. Right now the book is, “Up For Renewal” by Cathy Alter. It was a random pick off the library shelf. At the time I picked it up I was drawn to it as a writer and prior magazine designer. Reading it leaves me with a constant ‘what’s going to happen next’, as I watch Alter go from one month to the next on a mercy ride of magazine articles. The jury is still out on how I feel about this book as a whole.

What I do realize both from reading this book, plus the blog posts and tweets of others, is we all have our insecurities and sensitivities. Of course that’s a given, but in amongst my own insecurities and sensitivities what about myself do I admire, appreciate, and maybe even treasure? Where do I find my strong points? When looking past the roundness of my face to the lady in the middle of this protective package of weight, physically I admire my eyes and lips. The eyes are the window to the soul, as the saying goes, and with me that has proven to be truer than I have liked over the years. I keep reminding myself to avoid eye contact when trying to hide what is on the inside. Lips, I like mine simply because they are fuller and defined. One thing I don’t need, which my daughter reiterates from time to time, is plumping enhanced lipstick.

While on the ‘like about me’ trail, what else? Honesty, I like that I’m honest. If someone asks, I’ll tell them the truth even if they don’t believe me. Plus, as my sister recently commented, I am very intuitive. Even I have been surprised by this from time to time. I seem to have some inner insight into people and situations that has nothing to do with what I’ve been told. I just call it my instinct, but it’s been there for a long, long time. For many years I ignored those intuitive feelings, believing they were a bad thing, but this gift has actually been a great help in raising my daughter and understanding people whose actions just don’t make any sense sometimes. It’s also the one thing that makes forgiving easier when there is a need to forgive. I think the most frustrating part of it all is knowing when someone has lied to you, but not being able to prove it at the time. ‘It all comes out in the wash’ someone (forget who) used to say, and eventually the truth does fall into the spotlight.

I appreciate my own patience. Having grown up with a mother who was on a first name basis with impatience, the fact that I can have patience, particularly when my daughter makes some frustrating choices, makes me happy with myself. I have found it’s far better to guide with understand than yelling. Besides, to yell is to have a sore throat. I also have a high level of patience with others. It’s what has made me a good trainer, but there have been some people in my life who should have outlived my patience eons ago. There can be situations that cause great frustration, and that drive me to the very edge of whatever keeps me sane, but if I fall over that line, lose patience and get all flustered and angry about the situation, what good will it do? Patience with me goes hand in hand with perseverance. I have a high tolerance level. However, I’ve actually arrived at an ‘enough is enough!’ place at times. This is particularly the case when I realize someone has taken advantage of me in some way. Maybe not the first time, because I am a forgiving person, but there does come a breaking point. Forgiving over and over is one thing, but eventually the back bone has to become rigid and the stop sign has to go up.

So, there are my eyes and lips, honesty, intuition, patience, perseverance and forgiveness. What else can I add to this list of positives about myself? – Resourcefulness. Another sister once said to me she didn’t understand how I live on nothing. Of course ‘nothing’ isn’t the reality of my situation, but I can make a little go a long way. Oftentimes little to nothing has been left over after the basic living costs are covered to put a roof over our head; yet my daughter and I were able to eat. Actually, this is one area where one of my weaknesses falls into place, even if it isn’t as bad as it once was there is a definitive worry in some cases. There are few things that give me a sense of panic, but the biggest one is an empty bank account and emptying cupboards. Another worrier is a fear of being jobless. I guess the main reason for that is because everything relies on me, and if I don’t earn the income, then there is nothing. We came so close to being homeless a number of years ago – literally within a day – and I don’t ever want to experience that kind of stress again.

Anyway enough of that, this was a focus on the positive – lips, honesty, intuition, patience, perseverance, forgiveness, resourcefulness… what else? Not sure really. Others I know would come up with things like dependable, maybe even smart and always willing to help. I agree with those three too. One thing that is unfortunate is how many times I’ve been misread or had negative assumptions made about me that questions my trust, integrity, reliability and honesty. Those are all huge for me, and it really hurts when there is doubt about any of them, or assumptions made about what my actions may be. It also hurts when taken advantage of, especially when I have made sacrifices.

Despite the whirlwind of life, those positive attributes about myself help me know I’m doing all right.

The Point of Rescue

I would like to share my perspective on a book I just finished reading. It’s the first fiction I’ve read in a long time, which I actually finished. Most books I read are non-fiction, and I am notorious for not finishing them. My family has told me often how much I need to quit procrastinating and finish these things. That was actually the one thing I had planned to change in 2009, and so far I figure my mark would be 50 to 60 percent, but I haven’t kept track since I haven’t really picked up many books this year. I do know that over the past few months I have finished all the non-fiction.

As I mentioned, this is the first fiction book I’ve read in a long time. In fact, the last one I picked up was The Penny, a novel by Joyce Meyers, and I was enjoying that book. All I can say for certain is that something distracted me and I never got back to it. The one reason I believe I finished this book I want to share with you today is because I read most of it during downtime at work. Reading helps the day go by much faster. When looking at my history of not finishing books, another reason I don’t is because it takes me so long to read. At the age of nine I was in a car accident that caused my comprehension level to fall back a year or more at school. I had to do a lot of relearning!

Prior to the accident I didn’t mind reading, especially Nancy Drew, but afterward I became frustrated when I couldn’t understand the imagery the words were supposed to create. I could read but couldn’t understand the story in them. Back then I had some good and patient teachers who worked hard with me to get me caught up.

The unfortunate part of all those years was I lost any desire to read. In fact, although my Dad had spent many conversations expressing how great books could be and how much they could teach me from an early age, the struggles and frustrations of not understanding words after that accident changed my attitude for a while. That’s why I’m grateful to those teachers who spent all that extra time with me, helping me back on the road of understanding. It still takes me a while to read, and if I read too fast, or I’m tired, comprehension issues come to life, however when I get the chance, I do love reading again.

The book I finished today is one full of firsts – it was the first time I heard myself speak out loud, which became most evident at one revelation with a audible “No Way!” reaction. It is also the first time I’ve read a mystery that whittled through the twists and turns of murder from both victims and investigators perspectives where I had absolutely no clue who the ‘bad guy’ was.

The book? ‘The Point of Rescue‘ by Sophie Hannah (ISBN: 978-0-340-93310-7). It’s the first time I’ve read or heard of this author, but after reading this, her third thriller, I am glad I did. I will go looking for other books by her. Through her writing I found myself connecting with characters like never before. A few times I yelled, “No!” when a character did something I knew would be a mistake and create a bad situation for them. There were so many twists and turns, especially in the final chapters, that I was riveted to the last page.

The caption on Sophie Hannah’s website for this book is “It began with an affair. And ended with death“. Read story information here. If you haven’t read a good book in a long time I recommend this one. You won’t be disappointed as you read about one woman’s desire to protect a mistake, find the truth and save her own life, while the authorities work vigilantly to find ‘who did it’. Don’t assume you know the ending!

Regardless the story, I love the title. It ripples through the reality of my life like no other title I’ve seen. One thing, absolutely, reading is better than food anyday. There’s no better escape from the real world.

Today is the Here and Now

Focus is one thing that is not a commodity. It takes work and dedication. We all have dreams, yet sometimes becoming so ensnared in one or two things on the wish list can snuff out the real dreams. OK, maybe real is not the right word; after all, all desires are real regardless what they are. Yet some dreams mean so much more than others, and those are the ones that are becoming ensnared in this weight loss battle. I’ve put so much focus on losing weight (or not losing weight rather) that I have not been giving myself the time of day. Does that make any sense to you? Last week I sat down and wrote out one year and five year goals. Of course, weight loss was part of them, but once they are all on paper, that is not the top of my priority list. It makes me wonder if I work at fulfilling the other goals and dreams, will weight loss just naturally fall into place? That could happen.

Things are definitely going to go at their own pace. A bit of a blow last week from the doctor. When I told the doctor it coincided with having to wear shocks and shoes again because of the cooler damp weather she ordered x-rays and an ultrasound. The x-rays confirmed what she suspected arthritis. It’s in my knees, hip, and hands, and it is likely starting in the spine, right in the small of my back. It has gone a long way to explaining pain I experience. I never used to care much about the weather, but now I love sunny days more than any other, especially since I was low on vitamin D too.

So, in the brief time I allowed myself to jot them the one year goals were few. I’d like to see my daughter and I living in a two-bedroom place, and lose 100 pounds. I’ve got to get more focused on that. The five year goals are to be self-employed for 100-percent of my income and to be car and credit card debt free. Once these were down I realized three of the four items are really important to me. Weight was at the bottom of the list, because as I mentioned I believe if I start fulfilling other dreams and goals my thinking and behaviour changes will naturally bring about weight loss.

I see people who complain all the time, about everything. There are others who mope at the state their life has become, and I have definitely had enough of my own pity parties, but no more. As far as the past goes, I don’t care anymore. Giving it any attention is really a waste of time. It’s time to focus on today. Some might say it’s time to focus on tomorrow, why? I know what I’d like to see in my future, so I need to put all my focus on today. Every thought needs to be scrutinized (negative out), and every action needs to be weighed against whether it will help me reach those goals. There’s definitely enough work to do today, and by adding the work I ‘may’ need to do tomorrow has only created feelings of being overwhelmed, and that state is a nemesis to my existence. When I become overwhelmed I shut down, then nothing gets accomplished.

This is my food for thought today. I’ve even given myself a few things to think about.

Today is but a … Tomorrow equals focus!

Whether it is the time of year, or the change in shift…maybe it’s the news that arthritis is riddling my joints and spine, or it’s the fear I have of a future with that kind of arthritis? Not sure what it is really, sometimes things just melt down to the time of a month, and ultimately this too shall pass; all I know for sure is that I am very tired and sullen. I know what troubles me most is pain. It only seems to get progressively worse, and I am not the kind of person who cares to take medications. I know that weight is only going to intensify side effects of arthritis.

Driving home from work today I found myself weighing the difference between the weight and the pain. Is my fear of pain that final driving force to find the dedication I need to keep on the weight loss track? How crazy is that I could only answer with, ‘well, I definitely hate pain!’ The problem was I ‘yes’ wasn’t a definite. In some respects weight is like being attached to an enormous rubber band! Although the desire to lose weight is strong I feel like I am pulling that band to the limit, and just when I think I am finally making some leeway (usually about 20 pounds down) that elastic shoots me back up the scale. From there I have turned into a yo-yo. Boy does this feeling like a flashback to the seventies when we played with yo-yos (modern day scale talk), paddle boards with a ball on an elastic band (weight loss pull backs), and slingshots (‘and there she goes!’ …. those best of intentions).

OK, so that was my wee hint of a pity party. Today was a better day really, not perfect, but better. Sweet cravings were addressed with a few unsweetened dates, and crunchy cries were subsided with unsalted bits of trail mix. Lunch was two plain eggs cooked in the microwave with salt and pepper on plain whole wheat bread. Dinner however was a couple of pizza pops and diet Pepsi, so that hasn’t been a perfect day – not near enough fruits and vegetables for starters. However, pay day is tomorrow so hopefully all that changes. $100 for two weeks is not much though.

Believe it or not I am optimistic. Though things are tight for me, I still donated to efforts to help those who lost everything in the Philippines from floods a month or so ago, plus I pay to support a child every month who lives in far worse conditions. Regardless of how difficult things become I know things will work out. They always do, and because of this I know I will permanently shrink into that weight loss alley I’ve been longing for.

Tonight is the last of sullen, and tomorrow is the first of forward focus. I have seen successes, and I am determined to be one among them. After all, everything will work out!

Coming out

I have been contemplating my hidden identity. I know some of you know me, but many don’t. When I think about why I have hidden my identity, it’s not been about protection, but about shame. I’ve been ashamed about the weight I’ve gain, and found that it is reinforced when I see the expression on someone’s face who I haven’t seen for a while. Once I mentioned the expression on my Dad’s face when he hadn’t seen me in two years. It broke my heart to see that shock, and left me feeling embarrassed and ashamed at what I had inadvertently allowed for this body.

The other reason behind shying away from my identity, and what I refer to is more appearance than name, is not liking what the body looks like right now. The other day I was going up the elevator at work and I looked at my full body profile reflection on the elevator wall. I look pregnant really. If I could draw a line and remove the belly I would appear near as bulky. You see, it’s not the me as a person I struggle with, is the me body. I believe to truly succeed I have to get real, and that means I need to stop hiding I look at other women who have succeeded, like the ladies of MizFit, Dietgirl and Roni’s Weigh.

A while ago MizFit left me a comment when I wrote Vulnerable Whispers, and she asked me if I’ve ever written a success list, “written down every single thing you’ve ever done NO MATTER HOW SEEMINGLY SMALL that you succeed in? … in every realm.” This is something I’ve never done. Many thoughts have transpired since that comment was left. Now MizFit warned me that this can be challenging but once it’s done is a great reminder of all that has been done. My understanding was that remembering when can be motivation toward what will be. Yet when it comes to my successes I have come to notice those many times over the past number of years. Prior to that I was far too self conscious. Success has been found as a mother, as a friend and as a leader/trainer. Many times I have been there for others when they need support emotionally, and I do well for them at changing the direction of thinking. As a mother I have succeeded in crisis many times, survived rebellion and maintained my patience. This is something I truly notice, because I had a mother who was short on patience and loud in her demands. I succeed when things are difficult, because when something doesn’t work I always find another way. This has come particularly in the way of shy finances and in directing my daughter in the direction she needs to go.

So, where are the successes when it comes to me? I have success in my job performance and am known to be reliable and resourceful. I do my best to stand tall on integrity and reliability. Still those things are in the direction of things outside myself. Where are the successes when it comes to me? I ask myself this again. Where are the success stories when it comes to my own goals, dreams and desires? Just asking that question bombards me with thoughts of all the things I’ve wanted, hoped for and thought about, which I have never attained. I am reminded of the backsliding I’ve done, of the disappointments I’ve felt. There is inner chatter about trusting and loving myself, even if it’s not that loud it’s there. I admit, coming up with things I’ve succeeded in is still leaving me amiss. Maybe if I get the chance I will ask MizFit for those questions, inner probing, that helped her get through the difficult of this task.

So, as you know, my first name is Sheri, and possibly by the time you read this I will have put up a recent head shot of me. There you can see the smile I often have, really. It may not seem that way here sometimes, but this is where you get to see a bit more of the inner workings, even if they are for brief moments.

Within the waiting time

Last week I caught part of a television program (which I cannot remember the name of), and afterward I did some web searching for their website…forgot that too. I guess I’ve arrived at an age where I need to write things down. My daughter would concur with that. What I did keep track of was the tips from that website. I randomly copied them into a Word document. Some I found interesting like eating celery can help bloating, but excess salt can cause bloating. Then there was a line about MSG (monosodium glutamate), which bothers me anyway, but it can damage the brains ability to regulate the appetite. A question came to mind… how well do we know what’s in our food and what affect it has on our body? I’ve found when I eat right I feel good and when I eat wrong I feel like crap, achy, stiff, tired, foggy…

So, when it came to my knees I figured that was what was going on. After all, I’ve been eating off track. It’s one of the reasons I procrastinated about visiting the doctor. Last weekend changed all that. I had walked down one level of stairs at work and it set off pain like I had never known before, which lasted for almost 5 days until the knees seemed to pop. Friday I saw the doctor, and she believes its arthritis. Maybe it’s genetic, but what does that matter now? X-rays are done and in two weeks ultrasound will be done on the knees. Not sure what that will reveal, because I thought arthritis could be seen on x-rays.

As I always say, I will live; it’s just one more thing I have to deal with. Tonight I started listening to an audio book, one I probably need to listen to. It’s called Excuses Begone! by Dr. Wayne Dyer. It’s about changing self-defeating thinking. My step-father always says ‘you just do it’, and as logical as that sounds, it is just as frustrating to hear. I do well for a time and then something seems to suck the motivation right out of me. This can be as simple as putting on make-up. I’ve wanted to do that for days, and suddenly found myself battling the concerns of what others might think. I know it will look good, but don’t seem to get around to getting it done.

This my update right now. There’s really not much to write about at the moment. My hours have changed with this new position, and really I don’t have much chance to think about much like I was before. Plus, I’ve been working to reset the schedule. At least I like the job and have started it off with impressive success to my supervisor.

It’s my hope not to become as quiet as I’ve been here in the past few weeks. Hope all of you are doing well.

Why am I so hard on myself?

A new position and a new schedule – Today started with getting my daughter some lunch, dropping her at school, back home for a shower, then off to do Avon deliveries in the couple hours before work. One of those stops was to the home of an elderly Jamaican woman. She’s a kind-hearted woman, and has been a customer for a few years…. before I get to her place let me set the stage a bit.

The past few days have been brutal in some ways. I have felt alive and well, but a bit trapped in this body. My ankles and knees have been in pain I have never known before, and I wish I was kidding. I’ve been walking weird, because whenever the muscles stretch almost to a normal point it feels like from the waist down I’m walking on angled boards locked at 65 degrees. That’s the way they’ve been that is until this afternoon when my knees finally did some bold snapping and popping. Now they don’t hurt as much, but still are very painful. The pain all weekend has been enough for me to call and make a doctor’s appointment (not easy). To a certain extent the situation with my knees actually scares me.

More to the pre-stage of my customer’s home delivery, when I woke up this morning, although I felt awake, the eyes were puffy. I felt bloated and uncomfortable, and with it annoyed. I’m not annoyed at the situation, or the world, or any specific person – accept one, and that’s me. Now, that’s jumping ahead… back to my customer’s home.

When I arrived and we got past the formalities of, “Hi, how are you?” she said, “Every time I see you get bigger and bigger!” ‘Are you kidding me?’ I thought. I know she’s not being nasty, but it stung. Before I even got there, for days I have been struggling with thoughts about the excess weight, and those words suddenly felt like the hammer that hit the nail home. The self anger I kept pushing away. I partially exposed it here the other day, but it has taken a firm hold on me tonight, bringing with it shadows of defeat.

Driving home tonight after work I was thinking about that self anger. Thoughts of it tried to creep in today, but I had to stop them. I had a job to do and didn’t want that type of distraction. People’s safety and peace of mind are my responsibility, so they deserve my 100-percent attention. That’s actually part of the issue, what was troubling me on the way home. How can I give so many other people 100-percent of my attention, of my effort, patience, teaching and love when I never give myself the same effort? Why do I struggle so damn much to put value into myself?

I give everyone else the best of me and the worst of me goes to myself. Dealing with uncontrollable issues is the hardest. I don’t mean the uncontrollable aspects of the world, but the uncontrollable things for which I am or have some responsibility. I know what my responsibilities are, like raising my daughter to become a strong, independent woman who knows how to survive in this world of ups and downs, and with that is the sidekick fear of failing her by my decisions. There are other things, the events where my level of responsibility (or fault) has been unclear. One example, though mute at this stage of my life, would be the freakish concerns of what I did wrong or didn’t do right, like my part in my ex leaving. Though I don’t care about all that now, back then it was excruciatingly hard! Similarly, it was hard avoiding thoughts of what I’d done wrong when dad moved out at my age ten. In both those instances I couldn’t stop wondering what was wrong with me.

Of course now I know it had everything to do with the choices those two people made, but by providing those examples I hope to somehow translate the anxiety, or intensity, of what goes on inside me when things are askew. Why am I so mean to me? A current example, my daughter doesn’t go to school and the persistence of this causes serious concern about her future. It leads me to wondering what I’m not doing right… it goes on and on.

Those situations of intense emotion, of feeling guilty for something I don’t understand, or something I am frustrated about… blend those with fear of the unknown, of making a mistake that could be detrimental (like decisions that affect my daughter and her future)… there’s also the battle of feeling like a failure, say in not being able to make my daughter go to school… or not losing this damn weight … or getting out of debt…

There’s a lot that goes on in this brain of mine, yet among all this chaos there is still a woman who manages to hold things together in spite of it all, and do a good job for other people. She’s strong, loving and (I believe) a diamond in the rough. So, why is it I can’t give myself the same level of attention given to others? Why do I struggle to do good for myself, and find it (without any thought) so easy to take the negative energy, fears, worries and concerns out on myself – that’s the ball and chain I struggle to rid myself of. Each time I realize I’ve been lugging that ball and chain through another  day, or group of days, I become so frustrated and angry with myself and, like today, those proverbial hands flew up in defeat, settling in with thoughts, “You’re just destined to live life as a big woman.” Yet there is a ever so quiet voice that whispers, “No you’re not.”

On the television I see the Biggest Loser right now. They have done so well, and I’ve watched as they entered the show sullen to tonight where there is so much enthusiasm toward their goal. The thought crosses my mind, “Will that ever be me? Will I ever see the frustration described above as a thing of the past?” Toward the later portion of the show Tracey said, “It’s so hard to love yourself.”  For me this is proving to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

Anger Pointed Inward

Writing the past few days has been a real struggle, particularly since Monday night. I had to take my daughter to the doctor for the second time in a few weeks. She has a sore knee, and the first visit the doctor said it was likely a sports related injury due to activities in the fitness class she’s taking at school. It was ten days of minimal to no lower body activity. Unfortunately, it has remained painful, so Monday night off we went again. Now there is an x-ray to be done, but the possible diagnosis eludes me right now. While at the doctor’s office I decided to check my weight. Lately everyone has been so awed by changes in me, and insisting I’ve definitely lost weight I thought it couldn’t hurt to check, even though my own opinion was not the same as others. I do know there have been distinct differences, especially in the face and shoulders. After all pictures don’t lie… or do they? Even I haven’t been oblivious to those changes, so I figured I’d lost at least a few pounds. Yet I wasn’t so sure either, especially since the discomfort in my knees and ankles has been worse.

I’ve caught myself wondering if the diagnosis from a specialist when I was eighteen has come to fruition. He had speculated that the cartilage in my knee is breaking down. His premonition was not good, and frankly I disregarded it at the time. At this point I’ve wondered if this excess weight is finally taking its toll. Then again, my knees have never been right since they became the one-two landing points of a bad fall at work about a year ago. Regardless, I have been vigilantly ignoring them while my daughter has hounded me to go to the doctor whenever she sees my reaction to a shooting pain that brings tears to the eyes. I guess that “you’ll live” attitude always told to me growing up has become imbedded as an adult, because those are the words that come whenever she mentions going to the doctor.

Back to Monday night, I asked the receptionist if I could check my weight while I was there. Of course I could. I stepped on the scale, and gasped at the horror when initially I thought the next 50 pound block was on the move. It wasn’t, it was just my dyslexic brain seeing the world upside down and reversing the pull of gravity on the scales pointer. So then I thought maybe everyone was right and it was going down. Concentrating I start the numeric slide along the bar as I recalled the weight I’d been last time. Found it – still not enough. What the… one more pound, two, three… geeze!… four -  At least it stopped there!

That, of course, has been little comfort to me. I’ve been downright angry, I mean seriously ticked off about this whole situation. As I walked out of the doctor’s office my daughter asked me, “Well?” I didn’t respond, just walked. The thought of anyone, I didn’t care who, hearing me say I had gained three more pounds both mortified and humiliated me. I knew I would tell my daughter, because I won’t lie to her. There’s enough of that goes on in her life without me adding anything. Despite that, I struggled to voice the reality of it. “What’s wrong with me? Am I ever going to successfully lose?” I wondered. Then I thought about this blog, the one place where I so much want to post positive changes. There are people reading this I know personally, some whose concerns have been genuine about my health and weight, and I don’t want to add an ounce to their concern. For them, as much as for me, I want to see the scale go down.

Even what I’ve said so far is not totally outputting my frustrations. They go beyond this. The anger is not about what others think, it is about me failing again….and now I dive in the pool of brutal honesty. The words that came to me as I walked away from that scale are not going away. They feel so much like the truth right now. It has nothing to do with anyone else, but all in what I feel about myself at this point on a personal level. My anger is against me. I am severely ticked off with myself and wondering when I’m going to get my act together. When am I going to get it, or get it done? What the heck is my barricade? What is it composed of, because I can’t seem to find that trigger point of disintegration – that one thing that is going to drive me to go after what I want and claim it. Why the weight? What’s wrong with me?

As I walked out all those thoughts drove my anger, especially when I heard the frustrated inner voice telling me I’m lazy and echoing the words of a boyfriend when I was eighteen telling me I have no willpower. That inner anger is announcing those words again, something most prominent each time success is not met at anything. I feel those same pangs that would come every time someone turned and walked away from my life very deliberately. They tie into this anger somehow. Mentally words reverberate, telling me I’m lazy, that stepping on the scale reinforces my lacking fortitude to lose. It goes on and on and it’s just as frustrating as hearing that little voice say I just need to get moving.

Maybe all this inner chatter sounds insane to some, but it’s not. Often it can be like a prison that threatens to bury me in a black cloud. Yet this is the first time in a long time I have actually felt myself wanting to just give up trying to lose weight with a flippant, “Who cares!” I’m feeling pretty defeated, and that’s killing the desire to quite. Despite these truths, I’m fighting the urge to quite, which is a battled hampered by anger. Have you ever realized how much inner anger can control things? I haven’t gone crazy with eathing, but haven’t cared so much about what I’ve eaten. I can tell you I haven’t really cared much about food, exercise or writing, and not writing for me is like a self punishment. It is one of the biggest joys, as well as the biggest form of release in my life.

Lately life right now has few concerns. There have been many ‘sigh of relief’ changes, and overall stresses is down, except my daughter and school. I’ve wanted to give up there too. Still, I keep fighting on two fronts – one, I don’t believe she has matured to a point of rational, realistic thinking yet, and two, it’s simply my responsibility. In the end I will be accountable for the way I’ve handled things.

Anyway, I am longwinded and getting tired. I believe this post has helped me relax some.

Can anyone tell me, am I the only one who has had this kind of experience in this weight loss journey?