Good morning! It is Monday and time for my regularly scheduled flogging. I work SO hard for five days only to sabotage myself on the weekends. I lost 1.2 pounds this week and that would be super fine, if not for the ginormous gain last week. Boooo!
I honestly don't mind going "off plan" when it is worth it. Hell, it isn't even really "off plan", it just part of "the plan." Like at Fearing's the other night. That opportunity only comes up so often, and I'm a big believer in enjoying things like that. The food and drinks were so worth it that I didn't give it a second thought.
But this weekend, we went out to dinner on Saturday and it wasn't worth it. I had been wanting to try the place, but I was very disappointed. The drinks were bad, the food was barely okay and yet I ate too much. That is such crap. I knew it when I was doing it that it was dumb. But I did it anyway. Those are the times I need to figure out how to just stop. And then I proceeded to eat like crap yesterday.
It is nights like that when I get mad that I'm a fat person. I may be many sizes smaller than I used to be, but no matter how much weight I lose, I will always be a fat person. This weekend, things would flutter through my mind like I wish my issue was alcohol or drugs instead of food. Or that I had a "real" disease. Obviously (or at least I hope it is obvious) I don't truly feel that way. Alcohol & drug addiction is terrible and I would never wish disease on anyone. But in very weak moments, I get sad that everyone can see my biggest shame. And society makes it worse. You have to eat and when you are trying to eat healthy, people think nothing of peer pressuring you to eat something that is not.
It is not polite society to offer drinks to an alcoholic, but offering cake to someone trying to follow certain nutritional guidelines? Totally normal. In fact, in many circles it is rude to not eat something offered to you, particularly if it is homemade. And the thing that is REALLY pissing me off at this moment is that my friends aren't even like that. I don't have that excuse in my regular routine. So as hard as it is for me?? It is even harder for someone else.
One of the thoughts that keeps me going..."Everyone has scars. Some are just more visible than others." I don't know if I heard it somewhere or not, but I said it one day (referring to my arm lift scars) and it has turned out to be one of my life mottoes. I get so down on myself when I fail. My failure is eating/drinking calories that I shouldn't. When I do that, I don't lose weight. People can see that. Everyone knows that I'm trying to lose weight and yet every week, I'm roughly the same size.
Everyone gets to judge that I work and work and work at this, but I'm pathetic because I can't get it done. I know people that love me don't judge, but I would be kidding myself if I think there aren't people who do.
If somebody else's failure is that they drink too much or don't spend enough time with their kids or they gamble or whatever...I don't "get to" see that. But then I realize that if I did, I would not want to judge them. So, then what does it matter? Everyone has scars. Everyone has demons. I hate that mine is food, but it is. And so I will fight it every day, every week, every year. And probably most every week, I will have to pick myself up and dust myself off and keep fighting. Because the problem is there...my choices are to fight or to give in. Fighting is really frustrating and really hard. But the alternative? Honestly? It's death. Or at least misery.
When I think back to life approaching 300 pounds, I remember why I'm in this fight. For me, winning is not wearing a size six. Winning is every time I have this talk with myself and I don't give up. And the biggest thing is to remember that most people are fighting their own demons and they aren't paying attention to my fight. If they are, they shouldn't be.
I'm not going to give up. And whoever you are? I don't want you to either.