Monday afternoon. I am so fed up with this "two steps forward, one step back" dance that I've been doing with my health for the last 18 months!!! I can almost feel myself moving beyond the feeling sorry for myself stage and straight into raw anger...at myself, at the world, at every skinny person who can eat anything they want and not gain weight. It's all so completely unfair and annoying and aggravating. Yes, I know that I'm being whiny and infantile and several other unattractive things, but I just don't care. The logical part of my brain has taken a brief vacation, leaving its unpleasant cousin to stand in, and I'm giving free rein to the resulting tantrums. Why can't I figure this out??? What magic thing, switch, realization, or whatever needs to happen so that this stupid obsession with weight will cease being the most important part of my life??? Do I sound like I've lost it? Good, because I have. I don't know what to do and I'm scared, frustrated, angry, sad, disappointed, and confused all at once. It feels as though the effort necessary to regroup, yet again, is just more than I have inside me. I know that's not true, but that's the way that it feels right now.
I think what frustrates me the most is the fact that I'm fairly successful in other parts of my life. I have a great job, for instance. I started as a receptionist at VLSCI, or, rather, the company that VLSCI acquired, right out of college, and have worked my way up to software development project management. I scrapped and fought my way through teaching myself DOS, Word, Excel, PowerPoint, Project, and every other software application I've had to use. As a life long math dolt, I now routinely crunch numbers as part of my job responsibilities and people here actually think that I know what I'm doing when it comes to statistical analysis. Work is good, I work with (and for) people that I respect and enjoy, and I make enough money to be fairly happy. (Would I be happier if I could buy the BMW 3 series or Pottery Barn house that I covet? Heck, yes! Do I truly need those things? Well...)
So, why, if I've managed to fight my way up the corporate ladder at one of the hottest tech companies in the country, am I unable to take care of this really little thing (eating properly and getting adequate exercise)? I haven't a clue. If you look at my 35, nearly 36, years on this planet, I've spent at least 25 of them obsessing about how I look and, if not actively trying to lose weight then at least thinking about what to try next. So much wasted time and effort. What has this obsession kept me from doing? It makes me sick to think about that because my life is so small and some part of me is absolutely certain that the same thing that keeps me fat keeps me from living the life that I want and letting my light shine out. I remember that my friend N from work once gave me a quote that said something like, "there's no honor in playing it small, in hiding your light under a stone. Let your light and your life shine forward, for everyone to see..." Am I afraid to lose weight? Afraid that I might lose all of this insulation and find that everyone still doesn't like me? I don't know. When I lost 110 pounds in 1996/7, I ended up separated from my husband and dating for the first time since I was in college. It was, and still is, absolutely frightening. I am someone with terrible self esteem, and dating is like rubbing caustic lye across sensitive skin to those of us who question our own self worth without any help. I don't know if this is behind my weight loss troubles or not and, ultimately, it doesn't matter. Why I do this isn't nearly as important as making it stop and getting on with what needs to be done.
OK, enough ranting. I think I might have worked some of my anger out and I'm ready to take action. Once I've talked to C on his lunch break tonight, I'm headed down to the gym to do as much of nine miles as I can stand, no matter how long it takes. This marathon is just too important to me to allow the self sabotage genie to derail it!
I think what frustrates me the most is the fact that I'm fairly successful in other parts of my life. I have a great job, for instance. I started as a receptionist at VLSCI, or, rather, the company that VLSCI acquired, right out of college, and have worked my way up to software development project management. I scrapped and fought my way through teaching myself DOS, Word, Excel, PowerPoint, Project, and every other software application I've had to use. As a life long math dolt, I now routinely crunch numbers as part of my job responsibilities and people here actually think that I know what I'm doing when it comes to statistical analysis. Work is good, I work with (and for) people that I respect and enjoy, and I make enough money to be fairly happy. (Would I be happier if I could buy the BMW 3 series or Pottery Barn house that I covet? Heck, yes! Do I truly need those things? Well...)
So, why, if I've managed to fight my way up the corporate ladder at one of the hottest tech companies in the country, am I unable to take care of this really little thing (eating properly and getting adequate exercise)? I haven't a clue. If you look at my 35, nearly 36, years on this planet, I've spent at least 25 of them obsessing about how I look and, if not actively trying to lose weight then at least thinking about what to try next. So much wasted time and effort. What has this obsession kept me from doing? It makes me sick to think about that because my life is so small and some part of me is absolutely certain that the same thing that keeps me fat keeps me from living the life that I want and letting my light shine out. I remember that my friend N from work once gave me a quote that said something like, "there's no honor in playing it small, in hiding your light under a stone. Let your light and your life shine forward, for everyone to see..." Am I afraid to lose weight? Afraid that I might lose all of this insulation and find that everyone still doesn't like me? I don't know. When I lost 110 pounds in 1996/7, I ended up separated from my husband and dating for the first time since I was in college. It was, and still is, absolutely frightening. I am someone with terrible self esteem, and dating is like rubbing caustic lye across sensitive skin to those of us who question our own self worth without any help. I don't know if this is behind my weight loss troubles or not and, ultimately, it doesn't matter. Why I do this isn't nearly as important as making it stop and getting on with what needs to be done.
OK, enough ranting. I think I might have worked some of my anger out and I'm ready to take action. Once I've talked to C on his lunch break tonight, I'm headed down to the gym to do as much of nine miles as I can stand, no matter how long it takes. This marathon is just too important to me to allow the self sabotage genie to derail it!
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