WTF??? and other moments

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All that navel gazing yesterday was really in preparation for class, where I truly expected to get on the scale and find I had gained a pound or two. I felt like I had a Black Hole Weekend: this happens when your gravitational pull becomes so great that you eat everything that crosses your event horizon.

You can imagine my surprise when I stepped on the scale to find out that I lost 3.2lbs. Imagine my surprise, yep. Probably not imagine the tears afterward. Not tears of Joy.. tears of WTF-ness because... well... WTF? I'm supposed to be learning to anticipate how my weight will have changed over the week and I could have sworn that I'd BLOWN it completely this weekend.

I sat last night and thought about it and.. .well.. I didn't really eat THAT much over the weekend and I did really well the rest of the week. But still. I'm supposed to be tuning into my psychic powers and stuff... and I can't even anticipate my weight? Fine witch I'm turning out to be!

If the witch reference isn't enough to warn you off.... WARNING! Blasphemous (depending on your point of view) material follows.

On a lighter note, out of the mouths of babes:

You know those stop lights with a residential street crossing onto a major thoroughfare, the ones that take forever to change for the person waiting on the residential street? There I sat yesterday, waiting to turn left. I looked to my right and noticed a crosswalk button. Hmmmmmm

"Shelley! Jump out and press the cross light button, it'll make the light turn!"

"Oh no, Mama, just wait a second. It'll go right...... now!"

DING! The light turns green.

From the back of the 'Burb:
"MOM! Shelley-Sue is Jesus!"

Climb that Mountain; Ditch the Donuts

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Sometimes the people who are trying to be the nicest to you are the ones who hold us back most.

In my classes, we are supposed to identify our saboteurs; I'm sad to say that Cowboy is one and most of my coworkers are as well. They all love me, I know, but Cowboy says helpful things like "it's OK honey, you just can't lose weight like other people". He was shocked and confused when I practically clawed his eyes out for saying it. When I calmed down, I had to explain that the support I need from him most is to remind me that I can lose weight like everybody else: by eating less and moving more. The surgery will help me do the one for a while, it's true, but in the end, I have to work at this every day for the rest of my life.

My coworkers know how hard I'm working on eating right and preparing for the surgery but sometimes they still bring in donuts, cakes and cookies, sometimes with the reasoning that I should enjoy them now, while I still can. I'm determined not to mourn that way for food. I will NOT put on weight before this surgery. When my day comes, I will already be eating the way (if not the amounts) that I will be for the rest of my life. I know that after a year or so, I'll be able to have small amounts of sugar without getting sick. I've made up my mind to get used to that now, not wait for the surgery to force me to give them up.

I know that people who lose large amounts of weight, with or without surgery, plan most of their meals and spend a lot of time and energy making sure they have the right food available. I'm doing the same; packing lunches, planning ahead, grocery shopping for myself almost separately from the rest of the family.

It's working too... most of the time...

Sunday I did really well, saying no to cake and ice cream at my nephew's birthday party. Unfortunately, I went so long between meals that I was starving by the time we got home and overate that night. I probably saved some calories skipping the sweets but would have served myself better to have taken a filling, sugar-free treat to the party so I wouldn't be ravenous later.

Yesterday, some sweet but misguided people on my team were trying to talk me into eating a donut. I was laughing but I was serious about saying no. They eventually placed an entire box, open, on my desk in front of me. I could have cried from frustration. I know they mean well but I make a food plan every day and yesterday donuts weren't on that plan. It was exhausting sticking to my plan but I did it.

On the other hand, I did not walk last night.

I used up all my energy resisting Dunkin Donuts!

Story of my life?

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As part of my preparation for this surgery, I take a weekly class. We work on many of the skills and learn information we'll need in order to be successful. You can't just let them cut your tummy apart, give you a pouch the size of a golf ball and think all your problems will be solved. Many are just beginning.

We have homework every week. This week, we have to write out our story, specifically, our history with food and weight issues, what things we think affect our weight, our perceptions about weight loss and what it takes for us to actually take off the pounds. I love writing, even though I don't do it often enough here. I'm enjoying the project but doubt they counted on someone as verbose as I am. I'm guessing we won't show what's in our story to anyone; which is good. It's not a novel like to win any prizes but it's turning into a novel. What's come out of it so far has been interesting, though.

A few things I hadn't thought about until now:

• My background is hugely food-centric. My dad has a Masters in Hotel, Restaurant and Institutional Management and worked in the food service industry the whole time I was growing up. He even helped me apply for my first three jobs, all of them in the food service industry. I'm not saying this was a bad thing; it wasn't. I'm just saying food has been part of my life, not just as a means of survival but as a means of attaining the means of survival, for as long as I remember.
• I've been binge eating since I was 13 or 14. I never thought of it that way, but there's not really any other way to explain a 95lb, 4' 11" girl eating a fully loaded double cheeseburger, large onion rings and Pepsi the size of a hot tub.
• I've used food as a means of taking control of my life. and rebelling against... everything. When I ordered that double cheeseburger during lunch at school, I was making my own decision; my mom couldn't tell me no. When I bought candy and junk food with my first paychecks and then hid them in my room, I was controlling my life in a small way. I was a rebellious kid but I never snuck out, I never did drugs or drank. I ate instead. I never thought about it, but my unconscious decision's worked out as well for me as theirs did for many of my classmates who chose less legal, more drastic options.

I said two years ago I was on a journey to smaller pant sizes (and beyond). I still am; I may have gotten detoured but I think I'm back on track at last.