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Sunday, September 30, 2012

One person's account of a darker side of weight loss.

Interesting article on another side of weight loss.

I'm in there.

Before I lose the thought I want to capture it here to remind me later. I want to lose this weight and have wanted to for 18 years now. How can that much time go by? And yet I recall the time before I had children, feeling just as insecure and inferior when I was in fact underweight. So many times in my life, countless times really, I felt compelled to "fix" myself, never feeling that I measured up. I did that when I was thin and I have done it for as long as I can recall.

The thought I wanted to capture was like this light bulb moment where I thought, I just don't want to be weighed down by this inertia and immobility anymore. I'm so sluggish and out of touch with my body and my self. I want to run and hike and bike and dance. I want to be free of envy and insecurity. I don't need to be perfect and have the whole world desire me, but I want to look in the mirror and recognize myself...myself as strong and grounded and present. Being enslaved to food and moods and anxiety has me trapped. If running and lifting weights and doing yoga and cycling and eating mindfully is the way for that strong, confident, powerful part of myself to emerge, then I'm willing to do the work to dig my way out from under everything that put the weight there all this time. It will suck for at least the first six weeks or so, said a new friend of mine, but I can accept that. I feel like I'm suffocating under my own psychic and emotional weight and that my own voice is being muffled out under it.

It can't be about wanting to  be "hot" or to look amazing. It's gotta be about me just wanting to feel strong, the strongest I've ever been. Taking my own body back and enjoying the unexplored terrain that I've always considered to be so out of reach.

Monday, September 24, 2012

SuperBetter Quest: Learning to Surf Stress, Part II - blogging it out.

Today I had one of those stupid moments that got away from me. Before it happened, I was all set up for a tumble. I woke up feeling lousy, didn't have the kind of breakfast that I wanted, didn't get the exercise I planned for, and then ultimately ended up getting really tense about something silly enough to sort of dismiss. Then, something else happened, and I got upset. It triggered a tantrum. Then I started ruminating in my emotions. Then I got anxious about it. Then I got mad. Then it fed itself and I blew up. Then I was exhausted for about an hour and had to force myself not to just go back to bed.

I spent the rest of the day beating myself up about it and apologizing to my loving husband, who was over it the minute after it happened. can be exhausting.

Playing with this SuperBetter app, it asked me what it would look like if I responded rather than reacted. First, "it" would look...quieter. More grounded. But if all of that chaos (heart racing, mind reeling, adrenaline pumping) could be transformed as useful energy, the only thing I can think of is that it would fuel physical exercise. That's really the most beneficial outcome I can think of. Funny how anxiety and depression is the main thing that has immobilized me for decades, and how it is the very thing that has packed on all of this weight. Well, maybe now that I'm freelancing, I can make sure to always be dressed in running gear so that I can just get up and shuffle myself out the door at a moment's notice instead of totally emoting like a petulant three-year-old and then hating myself for the next thirteen hours after it's blown over for everyone else.

Anyway. Here I go to drag my ass out for a semblance of a walk before bed. It's not as much as I aspire to (or know that I need), but at least it's better than nothing.