Weighty Matters

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Nov 24

Not Focused on Feasting

by Mary Stella

We’re heading into Thanksgiving week. I’m grateful for so much I’d run short of numbers of I tried to count all of my blessings.

Last year, I don’t remember if I connected with anyone for Thanksgiving. I know that on the day after I started a three day Dr. Oz detox. I worked very hard to not focus on food. I was afraid that I would feel all resentful and deprived because I couldn’t feast like I once had and send myself into a food coma. This year, I am again not focusing on Thanksgiving Day as an opportunity to overeat. I have no plans for a big dinner fest. Instead, a friend and I are going to do something — depending on the weather. Right now I’m hoping for a great boating day.

I was thinking about the family Thanksgiving dinners we had over the years. We were nothing if not generous with the amount of food and variety of dishes that we prepared, put on the table, and then scooped onto our plates. I was just remembering one in particular when my brother came home from college. When he went away to school he became a non-meat eater and committed to a much healthier way of eating that he’s maintained for 42 years. He was pretty opinionated about it when he first came home. I remember him making his own yogurt and granola too. That one Thanksgiving, he looked at the table with the perfectly browned humongous turkey and plethora of side dishes and proclaimed some obnoxious comment about the carbohydrate binge.

You know what? He was right. Accompanying the turkey, we had chestnut stuffing, mashed white potatoes and candied sweet potatoes plus “traditional” green bean casserole complete with the fried onion ring things on top, and mashed rutabagas, which most people considered turnips. I think there was usually a big bowl of homemade cole slaw too and dinner rolls, plus cranberry sauce or cranberry relish. That was all before the pies were served for dessert — pumpkin and apple for sure.

It was all homemade and incredibly delicious! We’d go back for seconds, or even thirds, on our favorites.

If I went to that kind of feast now, even if I took the smallest dab of each of those dishes, I’d be full to the point of it coming back up again before I got past the third choice.

Wow. For the sake of my health and well-being, I am thankful that I am not motivated to eat like that any longer, and that my surgically-altered stomach prevents me from doing so if I’m tempted. However, I’d be lying if I said that I don’t have a few nostalgic yearnings for some of those foods. Without even thinking about it, I’ve come up with a plan.

At the store yesterday, I bought a single rutabaga, a white sweet potato, and some green beans. Over the next week, I’m going to make these and eat them at different meals. I’m also going to buy a small package of chestnuts, roast them and eat them plain without adding them to any bread stuffing.

I never studied the nutritional breakdown of a rutabaga before but I looked it up today. A cup has around 7 grams of carbs and 4 grams of fiber. I know that the sweet potato and chestnuts have significantly more carbs but I’m not planning to overeat on any of them so I am confident that I can work them into a healthy eating plan.

By spreading out these dishes over several days and meals, I can enjoy the flavor favorites of the holidays and not engage in unhealthy gorging. (Gorging is all relative after weight-loss surgery, but you get the idea.) I think that I will savor and enjoy them all the more for choosing to consume them within the guidelines of healthier eating.

General Musings The Past is the Past

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Nov 19

What I Feared

by Mary Stella

In the conversation I had last night with a dear friend, we both talked about resisting weight loss surgery years ago. I remember about five or seven or whenever years ago, my sister-in-law asked me about it and I said that I was afraid to have the surgery.

At the time, and for years, I firmly believed I was afraid of the surgery itself. I feared that something would go wrong. Or so I thought and said.

What I really feared came through loud and clear for me today while I was in the shower. I was afraid to give up my crutch. As destructive as my eating behaviors were/are, as much damage as my super obesity was doing to my health, I feared giving up the behaviors and putting down the quantities of food. I think it’s a real sign of the depth of my disease that I continued to choose that which hurt me in the present and jeopardized my future because I was afraid of trying to live without it. Does that qualify as the devil you know?

It feels like I’m focusing a lot these days on the aspects of my eating disorder and diseased thinking. For me, it keeps coming up which indicates that I’m ready to work on it, pick it apart, understand myself more and move on from it into healthier ways.

Since reading that essay a few nights ago, I’ve reminded myself every morning to make the choice to live in recovery. It isn’t that I haven’t been doing it, but every day I actually say the words out loud to myself. Today I choose recovery. That sentence packs a lot of punch. It sends a message to my old fears that they are not the option. It not only internally strengthens my intention, but it also means that turns it into a public declaration. Ok, I don’t run around telling other people, “Hey, today I choose recovery”, but somehow speaking it aloud makes it more real.

After having the thoughts this morning, I pondered a lot about how I really feel about not using food in the old diseased ways. Choosing recovery takes the drug impact qualities away from food and allows it to be its appropriate role in my life — nourishment. It’s okay to derive reasonable pleasure from the taste as long as I don’t imbue it with lots of other traits that aren’t healthy.

What I’m finding, much to my satisfaction and delight, is that I’m okay with food just being food. I don’t need it to be anything else, so I have no need for fear. I can give up my crutch, shelter, armor and do very well with it, thank you. There isn’t anything that I’m going to face or deal with that requires me to overeat in order to cope. Physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually, I’m strong. I can handle anything.

General Musings NSVs The Past is the Past

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Nov 18

Endless Possibilities

by Mary Stella

I emailed the man who wrote the essay that I cited in yesterday’s blog. He wrote me back and told me about a new book he has out. He also commented that it seems a number of bariatric surgery patients develop alcoholism and he doesn’t know why.

I wrote back and clarified that I’m not an alcoholic but that the 12 Step teachings help me a great deal with my addiction to compulsive eating behavior, binge eating, etc. I also offered up from my personal experience that it doesn’t surprise me that someone would transfer their food issues and pick up a different drug of choice, i.e. alcohol or narcotics. I’m grateful every day that I choose to delve into my issues and emotions, go deep into the past, including my triggers and everything else. It’s important that I do all this work for my recovery, even when the work is painful. The only way out is through. If I don’t do the processing, I could easily find some way other than binge eating to numb the feelings.

When I was active in OA, we frequently were joined by people from a local outpatient drug/alcohol rehab program. They’d discovered that when they stopped using drugs and alcohols, they began to eat more sugar and fat-laden carbs etc. These addiction transfers are all too common.

I also shared with the man that we who have had bariatric surgery don’t tolerate alcohol very well. I used to have a good head for drinking. Now, it goes right into my bloodstream and I’m muddled from less than a single glass of wine, so I’m careful about when/if/how much I might imbibe.

Anyway, I hope the info is helpful. I know that I connected with the message of the man’s essay in a big way. I woke up early this morning – 6:00 a.m. — to a day where the wind finally laid down. By 6:15, I was on my bike, pedaling toward the beach. It was a beautiful morning. I could see the sun breaking on the horizon meanwhile, over my shoulder, the almost-full moon still glowed bright. Amazing.

A little earlier tonight, I called a dear friend of mine who had weight loss surgery about a year ago. She had both her knees replaced in June. Like me, her life, health and ability have dramatically improved. We talked for quite some time about a lot of things, but one thing kept resonating. We talked about the possibilities we have in our lives today. Honestly, we both know how, before we had the surgery, it was so hard to envision that our lives could change so much — and so much for the better.

When I was at my lowest point, I could scarcely wrap my brain around the possibilities. I couldn’t bring myself to really believe that it could happen, let alone that it would. It was honestly hard to hope. Now, activities and adventures that super obesity had rendered near-impossible are not only possible, I actually do them! I used to spend a lot of time stressing and worrying about so many things. Some I automatically discounted, so sure was I that my weight or diminished physical strength stood in my way. Others I feared even trying.

I live, work and play in an entirely different world now. Nothing is impossible. It’s no longer a matter of whether I can, I know I can. Living life unlimited is amazing.

Body Matters General Musings My Progress NSVs The Past is the Past

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Nov 14

Evening Out

by Mary Stella

First of all, thanks again to everyone for your comments and support on yesterday’s post.

After posting, I did just what I said I would. I soaked in the bath and went to bed. This led to me waking up early. It’s been blowing high winds the last few days. I honestly would not enjoy biking in 30 mph winds with higher gusts, can you blame me? So I turned on my in-home walking program and did the two mile program. I then took the dogs out for another three quarters of a mile. All this before 7 a.m. I had another busy day today, but one that had me outside and walking around a lot. I also walked the dogs again when I got home. It’s no surprise that I topped 11,000 steps today. Booyah!

Emotionally, I evened out for the most part today. Every once in awhile, upset bubbled up. I didn’t stuff it back down, but I kept it in balance and didn’t let it swamp me either. Even emotions help me keep my eating on track.

I’m not surprised that my shoulder and arm don’t hurt as much as they did. That said, I’m planning to call the massage therapist tomorrow and see if she has any openings on Saturday afternoon. Being good to myself is important, and that includes being good to my body. I can do a lot of that by feeding myself healthy food on my plan and exercising. Getting a massage is therapeutic. I need some of that care and it’s important that I arrange to receive it.

Good self-care — mentally, physically and emotionally. Practicing that will keep me in recovery. I have a goal and refuse to postpone achieving it.

General Musings My Progress The Past is the Past

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Nov 7

Confidence Thievery

by Mary Stella

Of all the things that I detest most about having an eating disorder, the theft of my self-confidence is the aspect I most loathe. It’s also one of the most puzzling. I bet if you asked most of the people who have known me for the majority of my life, “Is Mary a confident person?”, they would answer yes. They’d probably be surprised to know how much time I spent mired in self-doubt with lousy self-esteem and how often my accomplishments were diminished by the stress and worry that I would fail.

It’s the kind of emotional and mental garbage that eats at your strength. Even when there is lots of evidence around that one is a strong, capable, talented person, when something steals your self-confidence, cracks and instability appear in your foundation. A weakened foundations means you never feel 100% secure.

It was the worst in the years before I first started going to a therapist who specialized in eating disorders back around the beginning of 1992. I learned a lot from that point, both in therapy and the ten plus years that I regularly attended OA meetings. Most of all, I learned that my outside persona — the strong, capable, confident woman — was not fakery. I was not a sham. I really was, and am, that woman.

So, if I am that woman, why does the eating disorder have the power to convince me otherwise? I don’t know that I’ve ever explored the why of it before. Sometimes, I’m black and white in my approach to issues. What is, is. What isn’t, isn’t. Knowing why can be a booby prize in that it doesn’t change what is or what isn’t. Tonight, I think it’s important that I understand the why. I’m feeling my self-confidence get a little shaky and it makes sense that this erosion is connected to feeling like I’m not doing a good job of controlling what and how I eat. Disease behavior leads to diseased thinking. The disease is once more doing it’s best to steal away my confidence.

Anyway, I believe the disease gains its power from my poor choices. Every time I eat something that isn’t on my plan, I’m making a choice to be in disease instead of health. I equate that as not being a wise choice. So, if I’m not wise about my food and my health, if I’m actually choosing to be sick, then how smart and capable a woman can I be? That takes away a little more self-confidence, which then makes me feel worse, which leads to me wanting to eat to suppress the bad feelings and so on and so on.

See how that disease thinking works? It’s like I become my own self-fulfilling prophecy, or more to the point, it becomes a form of self-sabotage. This is only a rough thought-outline at this point. Like I said, I haven’t gone deep into this evaluation before and it needs some more thinking. I want to pin down this “why” because I think this time that it doesn’t have to be just a booby prize. I think if I get a handle on this, then I can stop sabotaging my effort and get more consistently back on track.

I also need to remind myself of what I learned long ago. I’m not a sham. Absolutely, unequivocally, I am a powerful, talented, successful woman. It is not bragging to say that I totally rock my job. I’m not just good at what I do. I’m awesome. The disease is not taking that away from me, but it’s taking shots at me on other matters — such as my volunteer involvement with another organization and, tonight, on something as little as cupcake baking. Yes, I had cupcake anxiety tonight, worrying that the 36 cupcakes I baked for an event are too domed. I’m fully aware that this sounds ridiculous. It is.

It’s just another sign that the confidence thievery needs to end.

General Musings The Past is the Past

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Oct 29

Too Soon Old, Too Late Smart

by Mary Stella

Thanks to Susanne for telling me about FitBit. Yes, I know I’m becoming a little bit of a fitness-tech geek with my apps and stuff. In my defense, not only do I find them helpful, but they’re fun! The FitBit should arrive tomorrow, thank you Amazon Prime, and I’m looking forward to finding out just how many steps I walk on an average day.

I was thinking about something on my bike ride tonight. (Seven miles after a full day at work and another MLD treatment.) A long time ago, probably 1980 or 1981, my family attempted a little intervention with me about my obesity. My brother, who stopped eating meat and started eating healthier when he went away to college in the early 70s, told me I was sedentary. I hotly protested! I mean, after all, I worked a full time job and was usually out with my friends dancing at the rock clubs four nights a week. I was a busy, busy girl!

Now I’ve grown to realize that busy does not mean active. Dancing in the clubs doesn’t come close to, say, an hour of Zumba which is full out fitness exercise in the form of dancing. Working a 40-50 hour a week job and adding on other responsibilities, memberships in organizations, and so on, all makes for a very busy life, but that doesn’t mean a fitness-based lifestyle.

I really wish I’d gotten this when I was younger. There’s an old proverb, one that’s been picked up for book titles and other things now, that says, “We grow too soon old and too late smart”. That about sums it up. I’m filled with gratitude that I smartened up.

It doesn’t mean that I’m immune to doing dumb things or making stupid choices, but I hit the mark more often than not. Figuring out that I can make flavorful food that isn’t loaded with fat, salt, and calories is another advancement. Did I talk over the weekend about roasting a chicken? Picking up a cooked rotisserie chicken from the supermarket is a great convenience, but there’s something to be said about roasting your own when you have time. After the bird was done, I picked off the meat and then plunked the carcass and drippings in water with veggies and herbs to make a yummy stock.

One thing I’ve discovered is that I enjoy inventing soups. Sometimes I just muse about different ingredients, adding and discarding choices in my head, then I think about how to add flavor in healthy ways. Tonight I attempted another soup experiment. To that homemade stock I added sautéed garlic, onions and carrots, then mixed in a small can of Ro-Tel tomatoes and chilis. Red lentils and sautéed kale went in next. Finally, for a bit more flavor without contributing too much fat, I stirred in some chorizo sausage. The results are delicious! Other than whatever sodium was in the tomatoes and chilis, I didn’t add any salt. The soup doesn’t need it. There are layers of flavor, with a small kick of heat from the chilis. It’s seriously yum. I have a decent sized container for myself at home, which I’ll probably divvy up into smaller portions to freeze. Even then, I had enough to fill another container to share with friends at work.

Active, healthier lifestyle. We might grow older but it’s never too late to grow smarter.

General Musings My Progress NSVs The Past is the Past

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Oct 22

The Impulse to Eat

by Mary Stella

It’s 9 p.m. on the first day of my seven day reboot and I’ve had a good day. I stuck to the plan and did not deviate with compulsive eating. Protein smoothies, yummy organic soups, a sugar free cherry ice. Everything was delicious but to quote a saying from OA, nothing tastes as good as abstinence feels. I also enjoyed some green tea and kept hydrated with water throughout the day.

I picked up the pups from the boarding facility after work and spent time playing with them at home. After feeding them, it was still such a lovely evening that I set out for a bike ride. I logged between eight and nine miles. All told, right now I feel pretty good for the day.

Do any of you use the MyFitnessPal app? I hadn’t logged my food for awhile and recently downloaded an update. Love the improvements! I am particularly fond of the scanner that reads the bar code on products and gives me the nutritional data. So much more convenient than having to input the numbers myself or scroll through the database.

Even though I had a successful day, I won’t say that sticking to my abstinence and plan was a slam dunk. I was very aware of how easily the impulse to eat catches my attention. For example, someone left the rest of a bag of granola in the kitchen in the “If it’s here, it’s up for grabs” location. I went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, saw the bag of granola and reached for it. My response was that automatic. Thankfully, I stopped myself, got the hot water I wanted, and left the room.

I don’t know how many times throughout the day that I get food impulses, but I know it happens a lot. It sort of sucks, to be honest. Part of the struggle is armoring myself against the thoughts. These aren’t the same things as physical urges I used to experience when I was in the process of quitting smoking. I wish they were. One of the most effective pieces of information I gained during the smoking cessation programs was that there is a timeline to the physical urge for nicotine. More importantly, that urge will pass whether or not you smoke. The whole arc lasts about 10 minutes, but if you make it through the peak when the urge is strongest, the desire will ease. (Side note: I’m approaching my 27th anniversary of quitting smoking. Booyah!)

Unfortunately, the food obsession doesn’t behave in the same way, so I work on other methods like redirecting my attention, distracting myself with another activity, substituting something else like a drink of water or tea, or just trying to ignore the urges. The practice of just saying no also comes into play.

Today, I was successful. I hope that success breeds more success. It might happen one impulse at a time to build one day at a time, but I’m ready to give it all my best shot again tomorrow.

General Musings My Progress The Past is the Past

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Oct 2

Hold Fast to Dreams

by Mary Stella

A few weeks ago, 60 year old distance swimmer Diana Nyad completed a near lifelong dream to set a record by being the first person to swim from Cuba to Key West without the protection of a shark cage. She’d tried four times previously and, this time, was successful. She says that she wanted to do so to show everyone that you’re never too old to live your dreams and make them come true.

Earlier today, my not quite 50 year old friend opened up a fabulous studio that will inspire creativity and make a place for people to explore painting pottery, experimenting in glass fusion, learn to make jewelry, and try all manner of art endeavors. I personally plan to go in and try to throw a pot. (I think that’s the term for sitting at wheel, squishing molding clay in my hands to make something. These kinds of art projects are definitely not my forte, but I think that will be fun to at least try.

I was 54 when I finally had weight loss surgery. There are times when I now wonder, and castigate myself, for waiting so damned long, for living most of my life super obese.

Today, I choose to not look back with regret. I’m not going to punish myself emotionally or scold myself. I’m not going to consider the years wasted. There is no point to doing any of those things.

Every minute I might spend living in regret is a minute that I’m not living in the moment. I can’t take back the past, but I sure as hell can make sure not to squander another second of my present or my future.

I have so many things still on my Promise List; so many dreams. I’m going to hold fast to each one until I make them happen.

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

Langston Hughes

General Musings The Past is the Past

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Sep 24

If It Doesn’t Fit

by Mary Stella

Crazy busy stuff going on again, folks. The last two nights, I’ve been exhausted when I’m finally home and able to relax. Lots of stress involved in everything. It’s amazing that I’m not flinging myself headlong into a tub of double chocolate fudge brownie ice cream.

I’m happy to say that while I might think about doing that as a fake coping strategy, I’m not putting the thought into action. I call it a fake coping strategy because opening up to a binge of compulsive eating is not coping. It’s a distraction. I sometimes think of it as the principle of the counter-irritant. When I used to binge and overeat mass quantities, I’d then feel so bad about the overeating that it would distract me, temporarily at best, from whatever situation was causing me the stress and upset in the first place.

I digress. The bottom line is that I’m stressed and overwhelmed, but I’m not overeating because of it. Points for me.

Today I was at my desk at work by 7:30 a.m. We had a media shoot from 8:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. All great stuff, but it was hot, humid and endless. I felt like a salt block when we were finished. I left work early, vegged at home for an hour and then went to Zumba. Seriously. I could have seasoned a movie theater full of popcorn with the salt on my skin from sweating. Thank goodness I sucked down water all day to remain hydrated.

Okay. Enough complaining.

My thoughts these days are very much focused on whether I need to make some changes in my activities. Not my exercise. I’m talking about the other things and organizations in which I’m involved outside of work. There are a couple of things that I don’t think are a good fit for me and vice versa. I’m paraphrasing an old defense strategy when I wonder, “If it doesn’t fit, should I quit?” If I’m not the person that’s truly what’s needed in this one circumstance, then I should step aside and let the role be filled by someone who will more effectively fit the situation. This is better for all concerned.

If I’m a square peg in this situation, then trying to shove myself into the round hole is uncomfortable and way too stressful. I get bitchy when I’m stressed and overwhelmed and that’s not effective or desirable either.

It’s going to take me a few days to reach a decision. In the meantime, I will not let the emotional turmoil kick me into a binge. The disease and the binge behavior doesn’t fit my lifestyle now either!

Wow, I just dozed off while typing the above sentence. Sorry, folks. That’s a sure sign that I need to get to bed!

Body Matters General Musings The Past is the Past

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Sep 2

Never, Ever Give Up

by Mary Stella

“Never, ever give up,” said swimming legend Diana Nyad after completing a swim of around 110 miles from Cuba to Key West in around 53 hours, without the protection of a shark cage and while wearing a special mask to protect her face and eyes from jellyfish stings.

She’s 64 years old and this was her fifth try at accomplishing this marathon feat. She’s living proof of something else she said. “You’re never too old to chase your dream.”

I’m a little sorry that I didn’t drive to Key West to join the crowd that welcomed her when she reached Smathers Beach. I bet everyone felt an exhilarating, joyous energy when they saw her leave the water and walk ashore. The woman had just completed swimming for more than two days. How the hell she was able to walk is beyond me.

Instead of driving to the southernmost city, I went out on my boat with a friend. (After taking advantage of my day off to go to a Monday morning Zumba class.) We had a beautiful day on the water. Although I didn’t get to snorkel due to a massive number of moon jellyfish, it was lovely to be out on the salty sea. We hung out for awhile looking at the jellies, which are quite zen and beautiful, and then cruised over to the sandbar for a couple of hours. Very relaxing. I thought about Diana a lot during the day and swam around my boat a few times in her honor. (Okay, I also figured it was a good way to incorporate extra exercise since I was in the water anyway at the sandbar.) When I heard that she’d finished the swim, I cheered and I very much took her words to heart. “Never, ever give up. You’re never too old to chase your dreams.”

Sometimes I get angry with myself for not having weight loss surgery years ago. I wasted so much time and so squandered so much quality of life.

When those times hit, I do my best not to wallow, but instead try to cancel the thoughts from my head and heart. Regret is a wasted emotion to some extent. I can’t rewind and relive those years. I can only continue to make today, and all of the future todays, the best. Living my best life is the most important thing, no matter what the challenge.

For today, I’m not going to dwell on the fact that I’m already in my 50s. Instead, I’m going to focus on Diana’s message. I’m never too old to chase my dreams. In my case that means living my best life. I’m never, ever going to give up my recovery.

Thanks, Diana. Congratulations.

General Musings The Past is the Past

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