Weighty Matters

First I hope that all of you who are dealing with the aftermath of Sandy are doing okay.  If there’s anything you need that you can’t get at home, let me know.  I’ll find it and ship it to you!  In the meantime, know that the rest of us are thinking of you and sending supportive energy.  I donated to the Red Cross yesterday for their Disaster Relief for Sandy.  Many years ago I worked with the Red Cross Chapter in the Central Jersey area.  That chapter is no doubt working triple overtime right now.  I know that some people knock the organization, but when I handled their account, their record was excellent.  Ninety-six cents of every dollar donated went to service (Relief, aid, educational programs, etc.).  That meant that only four cents went for administrative costs which is an excellent percentage.  Okay, enough of my PSA.   The Salvation Army is also a good organization to give to for getting help to those who need it.

Okay, enough of my public service announcement.

The dogs and I just got back from a morning walk on the Old Seven Mile Bridge.  I almost have them up to two miles, although Pyxi was far from enthusiastic today.  She lagged and wanted to turn around at the half mile mark but soldiered on.  Not that she had any choice unless she flat out lied down on the bridge and refused to move.  We got in a good 40 minutes at a good pace.  I feel great!  I also reflected on the simple joy and pleasure of being able to walk without extreme pain and of walking two well-behaved dogs.

We have issues brewing in the neighborhood.  The guy that bought the house on the corner about a year and a half ago is pretty much a nice guy except for the fact that he’s lousy at keeping an eye on his dog, a young boxer.  He lets her roam around our little neighborhood, doesn’t watch to see if/when where she poops, and doesn’t clean up after her unless one of the rest of us says something.  Even then, he’ll make a show of carrying a bag for a while but his vigilance always slips.  The woman who lives with him, who he made a point of telling me is not his girlfriend, is a cranky beyotch who gets particularly pissy when I point out that the dog just crapped on a neighbor’s lawn.  Okay, so that’s issue number one.

About four or so months ago, another couple moved into the house, along with their large yellow lab.  They also let the dog roam and don’t clean up after him.  I have mentioned this to them and to the homeowner and they “swear” they’re looking out.  Maybe they’re looking out, but they aren’t doing anything.  The older woman who lives next door to them has an eight by 40 (approximately) stretch of grass between her home and their fence.  The two dogs play in that area every day and I know they roam it because I’ve seen it.  Yesterday, she got a note from her lawn maintenance service that they will no longer mow and tend the yard unless she does something about the dog droppings.  She is a dear, sweet person but congenitally unable to confront anyone.  She’s afraid to say something.

I’m a dear, sweet person, but I’ll be damned if I let this continue.  Other snowbird neighbors arrived yesterday.  They’re not going to keep their mouths shut either.

Now for issue number two.  The yellow lab has always appeared friendly enough, but three times this week he has rushed other people in the neighborhood and then intimidated them.  This happened to the friend who stayed with me for two weeks.  The dog ran up and blocked her from moving from her car to my house.  Yesterday, he blocked the newly-arrived neighbor from returning to her home.  I love dogs but I don’t care how friendly a dog normally appears to be, if it charges and then blocks you from moving, that’s aggressive behavior that could escalate if you challenge him.

I’m pissed off.  I’m fed up with constantly needing to remind these people that our neighborhood is not a freaking dump and that they need to have respect and courtesy for our properties and clean up after their damn dogs.  I will absolutely not tolerate an aggressive dog being allowed to roam free.  I will 100% not stand for my sweet neighbor’s quality of life and pleasure in her own home being compromised by the thoughtlessness of others.

My initial instinct was to go right over and challenge the people, but I know that’s not the way to go about it.  My newly-arrived neighbor was ready to start a petition and present it to them.  I thought long and hard about the situation and reflected on the things I’ve learned at work from our coach the last couple of years.  I decided that it is important to think before launching into action.

There was a time when I would have been totally reactive.  The ongoing inconsiderate behavior would have lit my fuse.  I believe now that it’s better to invest the energy to consider what is the best, most effective way to approach the problem and negotiate a resolution.  Okay, I always believed that but didn’t always act that way.

Here’s my plan.  I’m going to wait until I see the homeowner on his own and ask him if we can talk for a few minutes.  Without being abrasive or harsh, I’m going to lay out the facts of the two issues.  Then I’m going to ask him how he thinks we can resolve these issues.  I will explain with all sincerity that we would like to solve the problem cordially as neighbors and that  none of us wants this to escalate to the point where we need to involve law enforcement and animal control.

I think this sounds reasonable and that it could be effective.  What do you think?

I was reminded yesterday on Facebook that last November I participated in a month of gratitude.  Every day, those of us who took part, posted about something for which we’re grateful.

I’m a big believer in the power of gratitude.  Finding things to be thankful about, even in the worst times of my life, has helped me cope and get through the trouble.  I started doing this in 1998 when my mother was terminally ill.  She had lung cancer, then suffered a couple of strokes.  The stroke damage triggered a seizure disorder.  The cancer metastasized to her brain.  When that happened, we knew that there was no hope that she’d survive.  In a phrase, it royally sucked.  Sometime during the year, I heard about Sara Ban Breathnac’s Simple Abundance and the technique of keeping a gratitude journal.  Every night before I went to bed, I searched for five things from the day about which I could be grateful.  Sometimes I really had to dig, but I always found things.

The process kept me from falling into complete despair.  I knew that I had to keep going.  Mom needed me to be strong and take care of her.  Holding gratitude in my heart for blessings large and small kept hope alive.

So many years later, I have a full, wonderful, happy life.  I still remember to foster gratitude and to thank my Higher Power daily for blessings large and small.

For November, I’m again going to post daily about the things for which I’m grateful and pick something different every day.  If you’d like to join me, it’s only the 2nd.  There’s time to catch up.  🙂  I’ll include my daily gratitude item here in my daily posts.  Feel free to leave your post in the comments.  If you decide to do this on your own blogs, please let us know.

Yesterday I posted that I was grateful to enjoy a walk with my dogs on a bridge with a beautiful view.  (I’ve never posted on my personal FB page about my surgery.  All of you here know how significant it is that I can actually enjoy walking anywhere.)  Today I posted that I’m grateful my loved ones are safe and their homes were spared in the storm.  They’re dealing with inconvenience but it could have been so much worse.  I’m also grateful that I live in a country where we will rally and help those whose homes and towns were ravaged.

What are you grateful for today?

Such a witty title.  Not.  🙂

When I first decided to blog about my post-weight loss surgery journey, I honestly didn’t know how long it would last.  I didn’t set myself up with particular expectations.  I only knew that I thought it would help me to write about my process with the various successes and stumbles.  We learn in OA that rigorous honesty is a crucial element of long term recovery.  I committed to myself and, by extension, all of you who come here and read the blog, that I would be rigorously honest about my experiences.

I don’t know if I consciously considered going so deeply into the reality of my eating dysfunction, my lifelong struggle with weight and the obesity with which I’ve lived for most of my life.  We’ve talked about things here that I never anticipated.  I’m sure there were times when someone reading covered his/her eyes and screamed, “TMI! TMI!”  I’ve discovered that delving into the past helped a great deal with the present and set me up for a healthier future.

Exploring my issues through writing this blog is good therapy.  All of you are a great support group.  I hope we continue to learn and get whatever we need from looking at these things together.

I had my weight loss surgery almost nine months ago.   I’ve lost around 120 pounds.  (Among the things I’ve learned is to back off from weighing myself every day.)  I’m more fit and in better shape than I’ve been in decades.  I feel great physically and emotionally.

I still have a lonnnggg way to go, but I have great progress on which to build.  That’s my lesson, my takeaway for today.  Before deciding to have weight loss surgery, I was mired in despair.  I didn’t think I would ever lose weight.  I was resigned to the reality that my obesity and the co-morbidities would shorten my life.  I’d lost all but the tiniest scrap of hope.  I’m eternally grateful that the scrap remained and that by using it as tinder, I was able to kindle a little fire and that was enough to make me try again — but this time try something more drastic.

I no longer worry that I won’t/can’t lose the weight that I need to.  It’s not a question of if, but a matter of when.  It’s happening for me one day at a time.   From a starting point of despair, I now have a rocketing hope.  I look forward to every day and have great plans for the future.

To celebrate my 55th birthday, which happens in early January, and the first anniversary of my surgery, I’m going to Hawaii.  The February cruise is booked and I am over-the-moon excited.  Hawaii is on my Promise List.  There are a few other things on my list that I might also check off while I’m in the islands.  I wouldn’t be planning these things if I was still 386 pounds.  Now, I can look forward with glee.  The best is yet to be.

I didn’t take lunch today.  It’s not that I didn’t plan ahead, I actually did, and today I planned to order chicken salad from the lunch truck at work.  I took strawberries and a cheese stick for my two snacks.  See?  I did plan.

When I picked up my order, the first thing I thought was, “Wow.  This is a lot of food.”

Tonight I cooked a thin-cut rib eye steak for dinner.  When it was finished, I forked it over to my plate and thought, “That looks delicious.”  Then the oddest sensation came over me, like I was forgetting something important.  It took a few beats, but then I remembered, oh yeah, I can’t eat an entire steak.

These reactions, more than the way my stomach feels when I’ve had enough, tell me that my head is changing. Honestly, in the pre-wls days, I rarely looked at “normal” portions and thought, “This is a lot of food” or even more to the point, “This is too much food.” I might have said that sometimes, but if I did it was most likely more for show, to make it sound better when I was around other people.

When I was on a diet, I’d practice portion control and always take less than what I usually ate.  Every time I felt deprived, like the smaller amounts would never be enough to satisfy my hunger.  It’s a true delight to see myself now voluntarily take less food, smaller spoonfuls, thinner pieces, and so on.  It’s even better to experience satiety with those smaller portions, or even before I’ve consumed what I put on my plate.

I still need more retraining work.  Sometimes I mete out more than I physically want or can fit in my stomach.  I’m getting better at assessing.  Although I don’t usually measure every food, I do pretty good at eyebaling the portions.

Best of all, I make my choices with clear perception and an accurate representation of what is true in the moment.  I don’t over-serve myself or pick larger varieties when out with friends.  Most entrees present too much food, so I’ve gotten good at separating out the right amount for me to eat and packing up the remainder in a to-go box.

Today I did that twice.  When I’d eaten enough of the chicken salad, I packaged it up and put it in the work fridge so that I can have more for lunch tomorrow.  Tonight, I cut my flat steak into two parts and wrapped one half up to put into the refrigerator and enjoy tomorrow.

These actions are no big deal to someone who naturally eats this way.  For me, it’s nearly a freaking miracle.  I’m working on always being aware of my portions and to deal with them meal by meal if necessary.  Seeing the changes in my food and eating perception really inspires me with ever more hope.

I am successfully doing this.  I believe I will succeed long term, not return to my older disease-ridden eating behaviors.  That’s a big change in perception that I now believe with go on and on and on and on.

Friends, I wish I could come up with something insightful or knowledgeable or helpful to say tonight, but I can’t.  Instead, I am asking for your help in the way of prayers, good energy, good thoughts, or whatever form this kind of assistance means for you.

One of my cousins was seriously injured in a motorcycle accident over the weekend.  She’s in a coma.  The doctors don’t have enough information yet to either give hope or dash it.  They just don’t know yet.

J is in her mid-50s, absolutely beautiful, fit, and vibrant.  She’s looking forward to the birth of her first grandchild in a few months.

There is no way that what’s happening with her doesn’t suck.

Since her sister called me with the news this afternoon, I’ve been struggling to hold it together.  Whenever I think about my cousin in a coma with her kids, my aunt, her sisters and her boyfriend suffering along with her, I have to fight to breath in and out.  My stomach aches like I’m on the tail end of a vicious virus.  I go from no interest in food to wanting to eat everything in sight, even if I throw it right back up again. . . but I can’t.  It won’t help.  It will only make things worse.

My sister-in-law knows me well.  Earlier this evening when she called to talk about J, she said to me, “Don’t go reaching for cookies.  Don’t sabotage yourself.”  I promised that I wouldn’t.  I haven’t.  I did eat a piece of chocolate that I had left over in the house, but it wasn’t a huge piece and it surely wasn’t enough to throw off my plan.  I ate a reasonable dinner on my food plan.

I thought about going to the store and picking up a pint of  ice cream but I stayed home and just had a snack of some almonds and walnuts.  It won’t help me or anyone else to fall off of the wagon and give into the old ways.

It’s a horrible situation, this accident.  The things that I’m feeling — upset, pain, worry, fear — are normal and to be expected.  I can’t afford to anesthetize myself.  If I numb those feelings, then I also numb myself to the things that I want, need to feel — hope, faith and belief in the power of prayer.

Diving headlong into a food binge will not help my cousin.  Hope, faith and prayer can.

Please share your hope, faith and prayers on her behalf.

Thank you.

Yesterday, blog reader and commentor Judie accorded me a reward and an honor on her blog by passing on the Blog on Fire recognition.

 Thank you, Judie, for your kind comments about this blog and for including me.  It means a lot.

It is now up to me to pass on the award to another blog or blogs.  I read many so it’s a difficult choice.  However, today I’d like to pass it on to Jenny (aka Jennifer Crusie), Krissie (aka Anne Stuart and Kristina Douglas) and Lani (aka Lani Diane Rich and Lucy March) for creating the wonderful blog Reinventing Fabulous.  They’ve made a place where it’s okay to share about issues, struggles, journeys, progress and everything else.  Their openness and honesty engenders more of the same from readers and it’s become a lovely community of other ReFabbers.

Thank you to all of you who are reading the Weighty Matters blog.  I appreciate each and every one of you, whether you comment or lurk.  It’s just good to have you stop by with your energy.

Big hugs to all!

Food was never only about meeting nutritional needs to me.   I used it as a crutch, a drug, and in my worst times, as a club with which to beat myself.   Eating huge amounts of food has comforted me and made me feel horrible.  Whenever I was scared, lonely, sad, overwhelmed, tired or happy, I ran to food.  When I wasn’t any of those things, I’d still use food because it was a compulsive habit.

Not using food in any of these ways any more is by turns miraculous, amazing, and somewhat frightening.   Right now, I still think about food a great deal of the time, but the intent is different.  I need to think about food and when to eat so that I meet my nutritional needs at the the right time.  I pre-plan, pack and take what I need, and, as the earlier post said, practice better time management.  When I say that the intent is different, I mean that I’m managing food with logic and reason instead of being relentlessly driven by compulsion and emotions.  That’s the miraculous and amazing part.

The fear comes from the “What if” and “What do I do instead”? questions that sometimes run in my head.  I’m not so naive to believe that life will be forever free of conflicts, upsets, pain, anxiety, or turmoil.  That’s life.  Shit happens.  But now I don’t have my old way to help me deal.   Since the day I decided to have weight loss surgery, I wondered and worried about giving up my crutch/drug.  Would I be able to do this successfully or would I somehow fall back down into the old way?

Granted, I am miles beyond my worst times of binge eating without control.   Over many years, I’ve recovered a lot and overall do a better job of taking care of myself and handling things.   However, while I might not have gorged myself on massive quantities of food when something upset me or I got sad about something, I still ate in unhealthy ways.  If I hadn’t, I would have lost weight naturally.

So the fear lingered.

A few days ago, something happened that caused me some definite upset and anxiety.   It made my stomach roil.  I couldn’t get it off of my mind.  It not only disturbed my sleep, but when I woke up the next morning, it was the first thing on my mind.   Not comfortable.

But I didn’t eat over it.

I didn’t run out and get a pint of ice cream or a giant chocolate bar.  I didn’t ransack my refrigerator and attempt to pile food into my stomach.  As uncomfortable as the feelings and emotions made me, I didn’t try to anesthetize myself with food.

I didn’t use food in any way other than nutritional necessity.  That, my friends, is a major victory and a sign of true progress and emotional healing.  I can build on that success and keep going with greater confidence and it feels great.

Just to bring the story around full circle, the next day at work I was able to take steps to address the situation that created the upset and resolve it in a way that relieved the remaining anxiety.  Another bonus!

My word of the day is schlumpy.  Not sure it’s really a word but it describes how I feel today, physically and emotionally.  I thought I’d gotten my body and systems moving in the right direction.  I thought I’d fought past the stall.  I was wrong on all counts.

I’ve know for a while that I needed to step up my cardio exercise.  It’s still too chilly to use my pool for at-home water exercising and the local classes are held too late in the morning for me to go, work out and then shower and change to get to work at a reasonable hour.  I thought I was doing better with my walking but I guess I haven’t been pushing myself enough.

Last night, determined to increase the cardio, I popped in a Dancing with the Stars cardio dance DVD.  Did okay through all of the warm ups and confidentally progressed to the cha cha.   Oh Good God, what was I thinking?  I flailed around trying to keep up with those graceful, totally fit dancers.  Even the eye candy motivation of Maksim Chmerkovsky wasn’t enough to help me continue.

Reasonably, I told myself that I’d never done the DVD before and, perhaps, should not have expected quite so much of myself first time out.  So, I switched to Walking Off the Pounds Express, an in-home walking DVD that I used to do on a regular basis.  The leader is relentlessly perky and after a few dozen times hearing the same routine over and over and over gets tiresome, but it’s a convenient, easy way to get in 15 to 30 minutes of exercise at home.

Crap on a half shell, I am really out of shape.  I knew I’d grown progressively sedentary over the last year or so as my weight steadily increased, but I expected more out of myself!  I could barely get through stage one!  What a complete bummer.  I turned off the DVD and sulked.  Then I called a good friend and told her I just needed her to listen to me whine without offering any suggestions of rationale.  Sometimes we need to whine and get it out of our systems, right?

Once I’d dumped it all out in words I could look at it rationally.  1) Yes, I am terribly out of shape.  Even though I’ve recently lost 50 pounds, I’m still obese.  2) I’ve lost 50 freaking pounds!  I know just in walking from my car to work or to the store or anywhere that I’m already moving with greater ease.  3) I may be out of shape today but if I stick with it, one day at a time I will improve.  Even the paltry amount that I was able to accomplish last night advances me on the path to better fitness.  So does the Tai Chi.

I felt better about it all when I went to bed.  I’m commited to doing that walking DVD five days a week.  I might do it more often, but the five days comprise my rock bottom commitment.

I woke up, ready to take on the day and realized that all systems were not go and when I got on the scale, the number was the same as it has been all week.  Not an ounce less.   Maximum suckitude!  Damn this stall!

In trying to bring a better attitude to the battle, I know that this stall shall one day pass and the numbers will go down.  In the past, this would have been enough to send me off of a diet to do a 1 1/2 twisting somersault in the pike position into a vat of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream.  Today I sat down and thought about it rationally.  I decided that I’d be kind to my body.  If it still needs time to adjust to food, I’ll give it easy food.  So I started with a 1 1/2 shot protein shake for breakfast.  I have a cheese stick for a snack, a container of Greek yogurt for lunch, and some unsweetened apple sauce for an afternoon snack.  Tonight I have some barley soup to eat for dinner.  With the exception of the cheese stick, everything is more liquid or really soft and slide-y.  This will make my stomach and, hopefully, my digestive system happy.  I’ll also make sure to step up my fluids.  I think I’ve coasted a couple of days and not gotten in the whole 64 ounches minimum that I’m supposed to drink.

So, there’s the plan.  Hopefully in a day or two I’ll move past schlumpy and back to feeling great and seeing results!