I feel like writing a bit more. I can tell because I am constantly churning out thoughts and sentences in my head while I do laundry, therefore I know it’s time to sit back down again. Sigh. I got some encouragement from a friend today. She wrote, “You are an inspiration!” on my fitness pal wall. You would think I’d run with that and feel elated all day. In reality though, I heard that negative old friend come right back at me. Oh yeah, you lost twenty pounds, big deal, give it time…you’ll gain it back and then some. You always go back to the food.
Shot thru the heart. Cut to the seen when Mary leaves Loyd Dunn at the airport, he grabs his chest in pain, reaches one arm out and sings, goodbye my love.
Shaking head back and forth. I don’t know where that voice comes from. Maybe it’s me, the pessimistic, self-sabotaging girl that doesn’t think I deserve to change. Maybe it’s the devil, he’s nasty enough I guess. Whoever it is, it’s right. I have always gone back to the food. In my entire adult life I can only remember one time that I weighed under two hundred pounds. It was when I was twenty years old and just getting used to being a single mom in college. I was reading lots of good books, hanging with some good people, exercising and doing my best to make some serious changes. I think I got to about one ninety when life threw a fast ball right at my face and wham bam thank you mamn, yes I would like to upsize that please. I spiraled back into the comforting arms of food.
So here’s where the real battle begins. Twenty pounds. That’s great, but anyone, I mean anyone, can lose twenty pounds. How about ninety though? That’s what I have to lose total. It takes more than a little exercise and food changes to lose ninety pounds, it takes life change. So, am I ready for that kind of life change? Yes, I believe I am. I recognize that food is my fix. Plain and simple, it was the socially acceptable vice until I got so big I was uncomfortable. I have to allow myself some failures along the way. I won’t change overnight. I have gone back to food a few times, and each time I do I recognize it and take the necessary steps to combat it. Sometimes that means talking positive to myself, sometimes I get on here, sometimes I call a friend, each time, I pray.
I will fail, I will take a few steps back every now and then, but I am on a journey. A journey that doesn’t stop ninety pounds from now. A life long endeavor that seeks to find different ways to cope with problems other than scooby-dooing an entire bag of lays. I’m learning to breathe and be comfortable with an empty feeling in my stomach, I even welcome it sometimes. I’ve had some tough stuff come my way this past few weeks and quite honestly I didn’t know if I would make it. The anxiety, the fear and the sadness crept in and I immediately wanted comfort from the place I knew I could find it the quickest. By the grace of God I held my ground and asked what He was trying to teach me. Dependance, utter dependence on God for everything I need, so easy to type, so hard to put into action.
I still can’t quite picture my life without the food. I am still in a place of longing and from time to time I romanticize it. I dream of dinners with burgers and fries. And that my friends, is exactly how addicts live. I am no better than an alcoholic or drug addict except that excessive food is legal, for now. I am fully engaged in this journey though and admit I enjoy living without the morning sting of remorse for the bingeing done the night before. That is reason enough to stay the course, reason enough to continue. Besides, I owe it to myself. Goodnight.