The American Institute for Cancer Research yesterday released a report linking excess weight to a higher incidence of cancer. Since I'm obsessed with obesity, I'm hardly surprised by the findings. I had long ago been informed by my doctor that my obesity might be influencing the growth of a huge uterine fibroid that I had as fat cells can produce excess estrogen.
I'm all for healthy living, and I strive for it myself. But some days it's tougher than others as my compulsion to overeat gets triggered without me even being conscious of it. I'm also worried that now that obesity has had the last nail put in its coffin to lay it beside smoking as a health risk, obese people will be subjected to even more judgemental scorn than ever, without getting the help that they need. Unfortunately, despite the fact that we know it's bad for us, we still don't have a cure for obesity.
Meanwhile, we are surrounded by constant images of what I heard a person in an OA meeting call "Food Porn". It's all those lovely tempting images of food that surround us from the front of magazines, and particularly in ads for prepared foods and restaurants. And it's the cooking shows. When we moved and ordered satellite tv, I made a conscious channel not to subscribe to the Food Network. My bete noir is cookbooks. I have cut back considerably in recent years, but I still have a small bookcase full of cookbooks, and I love to cook. I think I sublimate all sorts of emotions in cooking and eating. Despite my conflicted family life growing up, it was one thing we could actually find some common ground on, for better or worse.
I wonder if we are now going to start looking at all this food stuff like we now view smoking. Smoking ads are pretty well totally banned, and I haven't seen any smoking shows lately. And with the exception of that cigar magazine (is it even still around?), I haven't seen any ciggie mags. In my province it will soon be law that visible cigarette counter displays disappear. What would happen if they did that to the rafts of junk food in the convenience stores and you had to ask to get a big bag of cheesies? What if you had to be 21 to buy potato chips?
I know I'm pushing the metaphor here, but I think it's started to turn in that direction. Schools have started looking at their sales of soda, and last year my niece's grade 2 teacher asked parents not to bring candy or cake to the class.
30.10.07
Is TV inherently toxic?
At a meeting the other day, a friend who has been in the OA program a while said that she has been aware for a long time that when she is feeling negative about herself, she tends to get mysteriously hungry. That statement in itself was a "DUH" comment for those of us who have been pondering our compulsion to binge or just nibble continuously.
The really interesting thing was that she followed that observation up with noting recently that those negative self-thoughts surface whenever she is watching tv. She is a very active woman and no couch potato and even while watching tv she's doing something else. But still, after a while she sees the negative thoughts appear.
What is it about tv that does it? Is it the passivity of opening up your head and letting all those quick processed images in? Is it the physically perfect people with issues that normally are solved neatly within the confines of 40 minutes? Does a diet of PBS make you feel better, like a tossed salad for the brain? Is what we choose to watch on tv as indicative of our problems as our eating habits?
I know that the longer I avoid dealing with my feelings, the harder my life becomes, and the more tempting the food looks. I wonder if perhaps when I choose to spend time watching tv, I'm in the midst of trying to squash discomfort or anxiety (like I've done most of my life), and it backfires. Maybe not right away, but it adds up. It takes a real conscious effort to counteract this, and when I begin doing it, it's tough. It takes several attempts. Seriously. Several attempts. I have to remember that. The practice of a lifetime takes, well, a lifetime.
The really interesting thing was that she followed that observation up with noting recently that those negative self-thoughts surface whenever she is watching tv. She is a very active woman and no couch potato and even while watching tv she's doing something else. But still, after a while she sees the negative thoughts appear.
What is it about tv that does it? Is it the passivity of opening up your head and letting all those quick processed images in? Is it the physically perfect people with issues that normally are solved neatly within the confines of 40 minutes? Does a diet of PBS make you feel better, like a tossed salad for the brain? Is what we choose to watch on tv as indicative of our problems as our eating habits?
I know that the longer I avoid dealing with my feelings, the harder my life becomes, and the more tempting the food looks. I wonder if perhaps when I choose to spend time watching tv, I'm in the midst of trying to squash discomfort or anxiety (like I've done most of my life), and it backfires. Maybe not right away, but it adds up. It takes a real conscious effort to counteract this, and when I begin doing it, it's tough. It takes several attempts. Seriously. Several attempts. I have to remember that. The practice of a lifetime takes, well, a lifetime.
29.10.07
A Lifetime of Habits
I'm middle aged. Yuck! But there it is, don't like how that looks, among the many other things that look the way they do when one gets to this age. But it's interesting, as I look around the rooms where I attend my OA meetings and see that most of the other women (and it is mostly women most places) there are of that "certain age" too. Maybe it's because of desperation. We've done all the other stuff, it didn't work, and short of bariatric surgery, we've landed here in the basement of the church of Our Lady of Perpetual Last Resort. Actually, we've even got a few who've had the bariatric surgery that has not worked for them.
And I think that this is what makes it work for us - the desperation, the being so damn sick and tired of being sick and tired. You get so sick of the unrelenting pain that you will even risk our cult-like readings and give that whole, gag me with a spoon, GOD thing. Even God is better than another lousy diet. And you find out that maybe the whole God thing isn't what you thought it is. It can be a whole different kettle of fish if looked at with some creativity. Look at it as an entity completely different from that hackneyed image guy in the nightdress. My conception of God was so pathetically unevolved from my 2nd grade Sunday school, it was crazy! When I started looking at a higher power as possibly some force in the universe that was trying to keep me healthy and sane, things started looking up, no pun intended.
But it's hard to stay with that concept. Old habits die very, very hard. Only by repeating the new good stuff, and I'm not even talking about eating habits here, does the new stuff stick around. I have to do, as they say in the program, the DO Things: Write and reflect regularly (several times a week, daily is preferable but not always possible), omigod, I have to keep praying. I have to keep in contact with the fellow strugglers who lift me up, and keep slugging away at it. This is what long term success looks like, but it requires daily vigilance. I'm only as good as my last reaching out to what keeps me sane.
It's like.... hmmm....my diabetes. Luckily I'm in remission because of all the weight I've lost. My doctor says its gone, but I know would almost assuredly return if I regained that 150 pounds. But someday it might spontaneously return even if I didn't regain the weight, and I could have to take daily meds and monitor my blood sugar.
Look, in every fashion I can see my compulsion to overeat is a chronic disease. I HATE that. It is never going to be completely gone. Some days are easier, some are damn hard. So, I need this daily practice to keep me healthy. The funny thing is, it's got a lot of side benefits that have nothing to do with my waistband --- I do have flashes of , gulp, serenity. I've got many great friends that encourage me to take risks and keep growing, try things I would have never considered years ago. It's even helping my work. As an artist, I am now having the great experience of my creativity and scope of the possible opening up. If that ain't a great antidote for "that age", I don't know what is.
And I think that this is what makes it work for us - the desperation, the being so damn sick and tired of being sick and tired. You get so sick of the unrelenting pain that you will even risk our cult-like readings and give that whole, gag me with a spoon, GOD thing. Even God is better than another lousy diet. And you find out that maybe the whole God thing isn't what you thought it is. It can be a whole different kettle of fish if looked at with some creativity. Look at it as an entity completely different from that hackneyed image guy in the nightdress. My conception of God was so pathetically unevolved from my 2nd grade Sunday school, it was crazy! When I started looking at a higher power as possibly some force in the universe that was trying to keep me healthy and sane, things started looking up, no pun intended.
But it's hard to stay with that concept. Old habits die very, very hard. Only by repeating the new good stuff, and I'm not even talking about eating habits here, does the new stuff stick around. I have to do, as they say in the program, the DO Things: Write and reflect regularly (several times a week, daily is preferable but not always possible), omigod, I have to keep praying. I have to keep in contact with the fellow strugglers who lift me up, and keep slugging away at it. This is what long term success looks like, but it requires daily vigilance. I'm only as good as my last reaching out to what keeps me sane.
It's like.... hmmm....my diabetes. Luckily I'm in remission because of all the weight I've lost. My doctor says its gone, but I know would almost assuredly return if I regained that 150 pounds. But someday it might spontaneously return even if I didn't regain the weight, and I could have to take daily meds and monitor my blood sugar.
Look, in every fashion I can see my compulsion to overeat is a chronic disease. I HATE that. It is never going to be completely gone. Some days are easier, some are damn hard. So, I need this daily practice to keep me healthy. The funny thing is, it's got a lot of side benefits that have nothing to do with my waistband --- I do have flashes of , gulp, serenity. I've got many great friends that encourage me to take risks and keep growing, try things I would have never considered years ago. It's even helping my work. As an artist, I am now having the great experience of my creativity and scope of the possible opening up. If that ain't a great antidote for "that age", I don't know what is.
4.10.07
Food as Oblivion
I was talking with a friend the other day about binge food. You know, as in what you choose when you really binge out. It's usually junk, but not always. High refined carbs are good --- pasta with butter is a favorite of mine, as is bread and butter. But it almost has to be a type of food that must be like hard liquor or shooting into a vein. High sugar. Lots of crunch, salt, grease. Enough to lose myself in.
I don't use food as a simple fuel, I use it as oblivion. I use it to block feelings, to blunt uncomfortable stuff like anger and envy and sadness. The more I work on feeling those feelings (oh, ugh) I see how much anger is there. It's quite shocking, actually. I've been struggling with lots of uncomfortable feelings since I was elected to the board of my community choir. 120 members. Lots of competing viewpoints, complaints, ideas. I'm feeling swamped. Twice over the last two weeks I came home and before bed ended up eating too much. Last week was the big show down with the leftover pork roast. Last night it was nibbling on the coq au vin. I had even made it to bed (safe, I thought) when I realized my oily paint brushes from work hadn't been washed out. So I went down to wash them at the kitchen sink and then, the fridge magically opened... luckily, I got it shut again before I did too much damage.
But it's incredible how automatically these feelings drive me to the food, and the fridge. I have learned to open the refrigerator before I'm even aware of feeling "off" or doing it. But my body knows what it wants and hasn't bothered to notify my consciousness. Right now I'm doing step work, a twelve step method of dealing with my feelings very popular in my OA programme. But it's damn tough. For over 40 years I've stuffed those feelings down with the food, and when I don't it all feels like too much. I don't have the luxury of blunting them with food. And so I feel overwhelmed. And I have to sit down and write about that feeling. It feels soooo uncomfortable. But if I don't deal with it, I'm just back at square one. So I try again, remembering the old OA maxim that if you have a problem and you eat over it, you now have two problems! Fuck. It hurts!
I don't use food as a simple fuel, I use it as oblivion. I use it to block feelings, to blunt uncomfortable stuff like anger and envy and sadness. The more I work on feeling those feelings (oh, ugh) I see how much anger is there. It's quite shocking, actually. I've been struggling with lots of uncomfortable feelings since I was elected to the board of my community choir. 120 members. Lots of competing viewpoints, complaints, ideas. I'm feeling swamped. Twice over the last two weeks I came home and before bed ended up eating too much. Last week was the big show down with the leftover pork roast. Last night it was nibbling on the coq au vin. I had even made it to bed (safe, I thought) when I realized my oily paint brushes from work hadn't been washed out. So I went down to wash them at the kitchen sink and then, the fridge magically opened... luckily, I got it shut again before I did too much damage.
But it's incredible how automatically these feelings drive me to the food, and the fridge. I have learned to open the refrigerator before I'm even aware of feeling "off" or doing it. But my body knows what it wants and hasn't bothered to notify my consciousness. Right now I'm doing step work, a twelve step method of dealing with my feelings very popular in my OA programme. But it's damn tough. For over 40 years I've stuffed those feelings down with the food, and when I don't it all feels like too much. I don't have the luxury of blunting them with food. And so I feel overwhelmed. And I have to sit down and write about that feeling. It feels soooo uncomfortable. But if I don't deal with it, I'm just back at square one. So I try again, remembering the old OA maxim that if you have a problem and you eat over it, you now have two problems! Fuck. It hurts!
15.9.07
Still Hangin In---You?
It's been a great summer. It's been a lousy summer. I've had fun. I've felt very low. I'm full of love, I'm full of fear. I love my home, I hate my home.
And we wonder why a person can seem wildly different to different people on different days! Here I am, still hanging in. It has not been an easy season, I've had some minor, yet still challenging physical issues. Just getting back into running, very gently, with my 3 pals. One had sciatica, one lost her husband, and the third is totally unmotivated to run if we're not, especially in the heat of summer. And I had my plantar fasciatis and my hernia came back, hopefully temporarily. Honest. The surgeon said I have a 50-50 chance that it was small enough to heal spontaneously. Please God let that have happened. So, here we are out again at the local park, gingerly doing 1 minute run, 1 minute walk intervals. I was still hobbling around a bit later that night. Hopefully gently gently will be ok.
I've had some big food challenges. It's driven me to my knees, almost daily. I have to, in the words of a very funny friend, "pray like a bastard"! I need the willingness to uncover my issues, really work them out, and the best way I have found to do that right now, is go beyond my weekly therapy session and work them out on paper using the template of working the 12 steps of Overeaters Anonymous. When I can chain myself to the computer and (teehee) not be on the 'net, its a method that really forces me to face my issues. And I have to. The alternative is just too sad to contemplate.
I was able to attend the OA World Service Convention in Philadelphia earlier this month. It was a great way to end the summer and it filled me up for the work ahead. I bought a fridge magnet there, and it's my mantra for September: Face your stuff, or stuff your face!
And we wonder why a person can seem wildly different to different people on different days! Here I am, still hanging in. It has not been an easy season, I've had some minor, yet still challenging physical issues. Just getting back into running, very gently, with my 3 pals. One had sciatica, one lost her husband, and the third is totally unmotivated to run if we're not, especially in the heat of summer. And I had my plantar fasciatis and my hernia came back, hopefully temporarily. Honest. The surgeon said I have a 50-50 chance that it was small enough to heal spontaneously. Please God let that have happened. So, here we are out again at the local park, gingerly doing 1 minute run, 1 minute walk intervals. I was still hobbling around a bit later that night. Hopefully gently gently will be ok.
I've had some big food challenges. It's driven me to my knees, almost daily. I have to, in the words of a very funny friend, "pray like a bastard"! I need the willingness to uncover my issues, really work them out, and the best way I have found to do that right now, is go beyond my weekly therapy session and work them out on paper using the template of working the 12 steps of Overeaters Anonymous. When I can chain myself to the computer and (teehee) not be on the 'net, its a method that really forces me to face my issues. And I have to. The alternative is just too sad to contemplate.
I was able to attend the OA World Service Convention in Philadelphia earlier this month. It was a great way to end the summer and it filled me up for the work ahead. I bought a fridge magnet there, and it's my mantra for September: Face your stuff, or stuff your face!
18.7.07
That large iced skinny latte at 8 pm was a mistake
So it's 430 am and I'm WIIIIDE awake... ah well, what better excuse to blog than feeling like your eyes no longer have lids? Besides, it's been ages since I posted. Time to check in to the mother planet.
This fatgrrl was on a roll for a while, the new scooter (I call her Bella Vino) was pure fun for just over a week, and then I crashed it, doing a lame-o newbie maneuver coming out of the driveway, hit the throttle too hard + hit the curb = sore shoulder and scratched up scoot, and luckily, the worst damage was my ego. For 3 days I felt like the biggest idiot. It was all borne out of being rusty, not having driven a 2 wheeled motorized vehicle for over 20 years. Let this be a lesson: even if you're experienced, get a refresher course. Now I'm doing my own refresher course in a parking lot, because I realize I need practice doing things like tight turns, obstacle avoidance and quick braking. I'm also investigating how to do my own oil changes and bike maintenance, and I bought some snazzy new protective gear. My favorite is a surprisingly economical white and silver mesh jacket (tres cool for the hot summer) with protective armor in the shoulders, elbows and back.
The irony is with the shoulder injury, doing serious swimming (ie the crawl hurts) has been off my list for the last 2 weeks. So I'm basically not doing any real exercise right now. Because of my hernia and plantar fasciitis, I'm not able to run, weight train, or bike strenuously for at least this month, when I get rechecked by the doctors. Because I have a scooter, I'd rather just use it rather than bike around town. So I'm worried. Will I gain weight? Well, in the short term, it seems not. My weight seems stable, but it has only been 2 weeks. But I figure in another week I can pick up swimming again.
I'm trying to be sane about eating and exercise, but I think it's just as easy to fall into compulsive exercising as compulsive eating. Sometimes, if I'm honest here, I think I exercise to avoid doing things that might help me more with my life issues, ie such icky things as meditation and writing. It actually might be a gift to be among the walking wounded at least temporarily to make me see that I need to do some more in depth work on my emotional issues.
Right now I'm continuing in weekly sessions with a therapist, and I've just started another group therapy session with other former patients of a gp who specialized in treating people with addictions of all sorts. He moved to another province, but we're still going. After 2 sessions, it seems to be helpful in me addressing painful issues I want to look at and also cutting myself a mental break. I beat myself up a lot mentally, I think I learned that one from my parents who could be cruel to themselves and me too, with the best of misguided intentions. This is not easy stuff, it's painful to look at, but if I want to stay a normal weight and not be a raving nutter, it seems I have to do it.
This fatgrrl was on a roll for a while, the new scooter (I call her Bella Vino) was pure fun for just over a week, and then I crashed it, doing a lame-o newbie maneuver coming out of the driveway, hit the throttle too hard + hit the curb = sore shoulder and scratched up scoot, and luckily, the worst damage was my ego. For 3 days I felt like the biggest idiot. It was all borne out of being rusty, not having driven a 2 wheeled motorized vehicle for over 20 years. Let this be a lesson: even if you're experienced, get a refresher course. Now I'm doing my own refresher course in a parking lot, because I realize I need practice doing things like tight turns, obstacle avoidance and quick braking. I'm also investigating how to do my own oil changes and bike maintenance, and I bought some snazzy new protective gear. My favorite is a surprisingly economical white and silver mesh jacket (tres cool for the hot summer) with protective armor in the shoulders, elbows and back.
The irony is with the shoulder injury, doing serious swimming (ie the crawl hurts) has been off my list for the last 2 weeks. So I'm basically not doing any real exercise right now. Because of my hernia and plantar fasciitis, I'm not able to run, weight train, or bike strenuously for at least this month, when I get rechecked by the doctors. Because I have a scooter, I'd rather just use it rather than bike around town. So I'm worried. Will I gain weight? Well, in the short term, it seems not. My weight seems stable, but it has only been 2 weeks. But I figure in another week I can pick up swimming again.
I'm trying to be sane about eating and exercise, but I think it's just as easy to fall into compulsive exercising as compulsive eating. Sometimes, if I'm honest here, I think I exercise to avoid doing things that might help me more with my life issues, ie such icky things as meditation and writing. It actually might be a gift to be among the walking wounded at least temporarily to make me see that I need to do some more in depth work on my emotional issues.
Right now I'm continuing in weekly sessions with a therapist, and I've just started another group therapy session with other former patients of a gp who specialized in treating people with addictions of all sorts. He moved to another province, but we're still going. After 2 sessions, it seems to be helpful in me addressing painful issues I want to look at and also cutting myself a mental break. I beat myself up a lot mentally, I think I learned that one from my parents who could be cruel to themselves and me too, with the best of misguided intentions. This is not easy stuff, it's painful to look at, but if I want to stay a normal weight and not be a raving nutter, it seems I have to do it.
27.6.07
Zoom Zoom Redux
I'm chuckling at myself today. I see the signs of a midlife crisis everywhere: not spending much time at work in the studio, busy injuring myself doing sports, and today, I should be able to drive my new scooter home (Insurance Gods willing, but I'm having a hard time being patient). Call it my mini-menopausemobile!
(Warning! The following rant will only be of interest to the severely two-wheel obsessed!)
I finally gave up my fruitless quest for the TNG Lowboy, because despite its low price and cute styling, the parent company seems to be behaving like jerks, screwing up the importation of the model into Canada every which way, and I've heard so many horror stories about how they treat dealers and customers that after the second delay I decided to ask for my deposit back. I feel sorry for the dealer in Toronto, they seem like very nice, professional people, but I think they chose a bad company to represent.
So the last couple of days, to cheer myself after the hernia mishap (see previous post) I went scooter shopping. Since there were so few available in this area besides the pricey Vespas, I broadened my search for lower cost, lower gas guzzling transport into small motorcycles (under 650 cc) and found a couple of really nice little Hondas and Suzukis. Then my friend the Reverend Brian, who just bought himself a nice Kawasaki, (I call him the Rolling Rev) suggested the Yamaha dealership a few miles out of town. I checked it out on the web and voila, they have a lovely little retro styled scooter, the Vino, in a nice 125 cc size: enough power to scoot around town with a little juice leftover. Ain't she cute? The silver color is a little understated for me, but I'm sure I can figure out a way to pimp it out a little.
Now I just have to be patient and wait for my insurance agent to call me back. Not one of my strong points, as I seem to have that addict's tendency to want everything, and want it RIGHT NOW! But then by that criteria, most of North America would be addicts. Maybe we are?...
(Warning! The following rant will only be of interest to the severely two-wheel obsessed!)
I finally gave up my fruitless quest for the TNG Lowboy, because despite its low price and cute styling, the parent company seems to be behaving like jerks, screwing up the importation of the model into Canada every which way, and I've heard so many horror stories about how they treat dealers and customers that after the second delay I decided to ask for my deposit back. I feel sorry for the dealer in Toronto, they seem like very nice, professional people, but I think they chose a bad company to represent.
So the last couple of days, to cheer myself after the hernia mishap (see previous post) I went scooter shopping. Since there were so few available in this area besides the pricey Vespas, I broadened my search for lower cost, lower gas guzzling transport into small motorcycles (under 650 cc) and found a couple of really nice little Hondas and Suzukis. Then my friend the Reverend Brian, who just bought himself a nice Kawasaki, (I call him the Rolling Rev) suggested the Yamaha dealership a few miles out of town. I checked it out on the web and voila, they have a lovely little retro styled scooter, the Vino, in a nice 125 cc size: enough power to scoot around town with a little juice leftover. Ain't she cute? The silver color is a little understated for me, but I'm sure I can figure out a way to pimp it out a little.
Now I just have to be patient and wait for my insurance agent to call me back. Not one of my strong points, as I seem to have that addict's tendency to want everything, and want it RIGHT NOW! But then by that criteria, most of North America would be addicts. Maybe we are?...
Crappity, Crap, Crap!
Ever heard of Julia Sweeney's show "God Said, Ha!"? It's about how the best laid plans in your life can suddenly go sideways, particularly if your health and/or that of a loved one suddenly takes a dive. Well, last week was one of those weeks that made me wonder, ok, God, what's the plan NOW? It wasn't a life threatening event really, just my femoral hernia, the one I thought was fixed in February, made a sudden dramatic return. I had gone for an hour long, mildly strenuous bike tour with a group, and that night I was popping a tennis ball sized lump out of my groin. At one a.m. the next morning Fuzz was driving me to the Emergency room. Within an hour I was in a bed in the ER with an iv drip and some lovely morphine running through my veins. Somewhere around 4 a.m. the little sucker in my crotch retreated and all felt fine.
The surgical resident told me it may be just a small tear and there's a 50/50 chance it will scar up and heal itself closed, but I have to be careful for 6 weeks. And I still may need further surgery if it comes back after that. No running, no swift biking, definitely no weight training. That leaves me with gentle biking around town, slow and low up hills, and swimming. Phooey. For 3 days I was severely bummed. Angry. I've just discovered this whole new life of physical activity, I made it through a hysterectomy last year, this winter the tummy tuck and the hernia patch, and I thought I was in the clear for a while. Well, there was the plantar fasciitis in my left foot, but it's healing. Am I suffering from Boomeritis (symptoms include a return of adolescent illusions of immortality) or what?
Anyway, I slowly came to terms with it and after a week I'm ok with it. Unless I end up injuring myself swimming. Is that possible? The scariest part of this hasn't been the threat of further surgery, it's been the possibility that if I can't exercise for the hour each of 5 or 6 days/weekly that I've been doing, will I have to eat less? That feels threatening. Cut off my leg, but don't take away my food!!! What is the sane way to handle this? Good damn question, I wish I knew.
The surgical resident told me it may be just a small tear and there's a 50/50 chance it will scar up and heal itself closed, but I have to be careful for 6 weeks. And I still may need further surgery if it comes back after that. No running, no swift biking, definitely no weight training. That leaves me with gentle biking around town, slow and low up hills, and swimming. Phooey. For 3 days I was severely bummed. Angry. I've just discovered this whole new life of physical activity, I made it through a hysterectomy last year, this winter the tummy tuck and the hernia patch, and I thought I was in the clear for a while. Well, there was the plantar fasciitis in my left foot, but it's healing. Am I suffering from Boomeritis (symptoms include a return of adolescent illusions of immortality) or what?
Anyway, I slowly came to terms with it and after a week I'm ok with it. Unless I end up injuring myself swimming. Is that possible? The scariest part of this hasn't been the threat of further surgery, it's been the possibility that if I can't exercise for the hour each of 5 or 6 days/weekly that I've been doing, will I have to eat less? That feels threatening. Cut off my leg, but don't take away my food!!! What is the sane way to handle this? Good damn question, I wish I knew.
20.6.07
Surprise! This is a Life Long Battle
Ok, this sounds pessimistic, but it isn't really. Well, sometimes it does get me down. I suffer from a compulsion to overeat. I thought that one day I would lose weight and all the hard stuff would be over. No more dieting, I would be one of those people who just sat at a healthy weight. No extra effort needed, I would just be like normal people and get on with the rest of my life. Lost weight, tick that one off the to-do list. Yeah, right. The bad news is, it seems to be a chronic issue. I still struggle with my compulsion to overeat. I still have food thoughts, I still get waves of nostalgia for old binges.
The good news is, I have so many more things going on in my life that I didn't have when I was morbidly obese, and so I have less time to dwell on the food. All in all, my life is better, but it isn't an, excuse the pun, cakewalk. I need to work on this new life, and when I take time daily to recommit to living a better life, it is easier. It's like the antidepressants I've been taking for years, I have to remember to take them every morning. Or the antihistamine I have to take daily in the spring to keep me from sneezing my head off with seasonal allergies. I have to write, here and privately. I have to think, I have to pray. All of this is necessary for me to deal with the chronic compulsion I have to eat. Through lots of therapy and lots of Overeaters Anonymous meetings over almost five years, I have come to believe that my disease has much to do with using food to comfort myself, deal with life when it feels unmanageable, which is often. The twelve step model offers an alternative way of dealing with my issues which seem insurmountable, and I have plenty of people in the meetings to mirror myself and my insanity back to me.
Often it is very frustrating, ok, often people in meetings piss me off! And usually, when I analyze why someone is driving me to the point where I want to stick my thumbs in their eyes, I find that it's my disease that's being triggered: I may need to stick up for myself, or just remember that I am fine and I don't need them to tell me I'm fine. Just because I didn't get that reinforcement when I was a kid does not make them responsible for my happiness right now. I don't have to love them, spend time with them outside a meeting, I just have to be there and be present in my own skin.
I recently had an issue with someone in the OA programme that was upsetting, but I drew a boundary with this person and I'm very comfortable with it. The other person did not take it well, and while I was angered by the pettiness of her response, it was affirming for me to know that drawing a clear boundary with this person was a wise decision. More importantly, I did not try to save this person from her disease, because that's an old pattern in my life---decades in the making---I want to stop repeating.
There's one of those 12 step maxims that seems self evident, but today I quite treasure it: Nothing changes if nothing changes. If I want freedom, I need to change a few things, things that I never thought had anything to do with me & food. Admitting that I was wrong about that assumption makes it possible to shift things that have felt unshakeable.
The good news is, I have so many more things going on in my life that I didn't have when I was morbidly obese, and so I have less time to dwell on the food. All in all, my life is better, but it isn't an, excuse the pun, cakewalk. I need to work on this new life, and when I take time daily to recommit to living a better life, it is easier. It's like the antidepressants I've been taking for years, I have to remember to take them every morning. Or the antihistamine I have to take daily in the spring to keep me from sneezing my head off with seasonal allergies. I have to write, here and privately. I have to think, I have to pray. All of this is necessary for me to deal with the chronic compulsion I have to eat. Through lots of therapy and lots of Overeaters Anonymous meetings over almost five years, I have come to believe that my disease has much to do with using food to comfort myself, deal with life when it feels unmanageable, which is often. The twelve step model offers an alternative way of dealing with my issues which seem insurmountable, and I have plenty of people in the meetings to mirror myself and my insanity back to me.
Often it is very frustrating, ok, often people in meetings piss me off! And usually, when I analyze why someone is driving me to the point where I want to stick my thumbs in their eyes, I find that it's my disease that's being triggered: I may need to stick up for myself, or just remember that I am fine and I don't need them to tell me I'm fine. Just because I didn't get that reinforcement when I was a kid does not make them responsible for my happiness right now. I don't have to love them, spend time with them outside a meeting, I just have to be there and be present in my own skin.
I recently had an issue with someone in the OA programme that was upsetting, but I drew a boundary with this person and I'm very comfortable with it. The other person did not take it well, and while I was angered by the pettiness of her response, it was affirming for me to know that drawing a clear boundary with this person was a wise decision. More importantly, I did not try to save this person from her disease, because that's an old pattern in my life---decades in the making---I want to stop repeating.
There's one of those 12 step maxims that seems self evident, but today I quite treasure it: Nothing changes if nothing changes. If I want freedom, I need to change a few things, things that I never thought had anything to do with me & food. Admitting that I was wrong about that assumption makes it possible to shift things that have felt unshakeable.
19.6.07
Zoom zoom
So I weighed myself this morning, all seems well, I'm at a little over 156 pounds, and I feel pretty good, wise, except for my left foot (see below). I was a little worried about my weight because I haven't been able to run for a few weeks; it seems that I've developed plantar fasciitis in one foot. So, while I'm doing physio and checking out orthotics, I've been using my bicycle and swimming more. After being ticked off by being unable to run, I'm now actually grateful that I've been forced to use my bike for longer and more aerobically challenging rides rather than my usual short trip downtown to pick up something. I grew up overweight, and completely non-athletic. Gym class was awful, and I just wasn't an athletic kid. I had a bike but I never really used it much. So now I'm discovering that it's kind of fun to go on a long ride, and I'm gaining confidence on my bike, a cheapo mountain bike type from Costco. I've got friends with snazzy road or hybrid (road/trail) bikes that cost at least 4 times mine, but all I need at this point is something durable that has a range of gears to make the big hills manageable. I did have a coaster bike that had actually been my moms, but she didn't know how to use it. And on a hill, well, I would just die.
Last week, I had a number of times on my bike when I felt ike a kid. Not like a kid again, because I don't remember ever enjoying it this much when I was young. Honestly, I'm having a hard time finding time to work in the studio, because I'm having too much fun. Yesterday the scooter shop phoned with bad news: my new scooter, on order now for over a month, has been further delayed because of import delays involved in introducing a new model to Canada. Now it looks like it may arrive in August. I'm disappointed, but maybe I'll hang in rather than just caving in and buying a much more expensive, but readily available scooter like a Vespa. Maybe it's a good opportunity to get friendlier with the old bike.
Last week, I had a number of times on my bike when I felt ike a kid. Not like a kid again, because I don't remember ever enjoying it this much when I was young. Honestly, I'm having a hard time finding time to work in the studio, because I'm having too much fun. Yesterday the scooter shop phoned with bad news: my new scooter, on order now for over a month, has been further delayed because of import delays involved in introducing a new model to Canada. Now it looks like it may arrive in August. I'm disappointed, but maybe I'll hang in rather than just caving in and buying a much more expensive, but readily available scooter like a Vespa. Maybe it's a good opportunity to get friendlier with the old bike.
11.6.07
Living is Tough when it's Good
Today I feel like a truck ran over me. It's Monday. Ugh. But yesterday was almost the perfect day. I went on a bike trek with some friends along a hiking trail on an old railway bed between 2 points about an hour each way and had a lovely lunch at the end of the first half at a great restaurant in a little town. It was great: Sunny and just the right temperature. Fairly flat terrain but the gravel could be loose enough in spots you had to keep your wits about you, and only one big hill which we walked up. Trees and lakes, swamps and lily pads, with all the smells of nature in early summer. It was great, just great. I was well aware of a voice that said, "uh huh, couldn't do this when you were 310." Not surprisingly, all my companions on this trek were OA people.
The physical stuff was easy, the part I find hard is the interpersonal stuff. I crave being with other people, but after I'm with them for a fairly short time, they begin to grate on me. I think everyone finds that to some degree, don't they? But I wonder if I have a way of presenting myself that makes it worse? Do I swallow my needs and wishes excessively when in the presence of others? Is this why I feel so dragged out?
Or am I just feeling a natural letdown after such a nice day? I wanted it to last forever. How do I get more of that? Maybe I just get back on my bike? I'm going to a DA meeting at noon, I'd better get moving. Maybe that's the answer for now, I just have to get moving.
The physical stuff was easy, the part I find hard is the interpersonal stuff. I crave being with other people, but after I'm with them for a fairly short time, they begin to grate on me. I think everyone finds that to some degree, don't they? But I wonder if I have a way of presenting myself that makes it worse? Do I swallow my needs and wishes excessively when in the presence of others? Is this why I feel so dragged out?
Or am I just feeling a natural letdown after such a nice day? I wanted it to last forever. How do I get more of that? Maybe I just get back on my bike? I'm going to a DA meeting at noon, I'd better get moving. Maybe that's the answer for now, I just have to get moving.
5.6.07
In For the Long Haul
I chaired an OA meeting on Saturday, always an unnerving experience for me for I so easily take responsibility for everyone else at the meeting. I just have to keep giving it away, telling myself, "nope, not my issue, not my issue...". I had another one of those "wow" moments during the time when as chair, I had to qualify myself as an oa member, or in other words, one who wishes to refrain from compulsive eating (under, over, unconscious, whatever problem eating issue one has). And I realized I had been attending OA for four???? years!!! I did a quick check with D, sitting beside me and she nodded yes because she had been there about the same amount of time.
Four years. It kind of feels the same way as when I think about how long I've been married. Simultaneously it seems like a very long time, ok, like forever, and almost no time.
So, how am I after 4 years? Well again, I feel very different and yet not changed at all. I am not where I want to be in my life with my career, which seems to be on hold right now, but I am enjoying days where I feel physically well. I am physically fit, foot injury not withstanding. As I start physiotherapy, I'm picking up the pace of my swimming. I am trying to be healthy, exercising moderately, but not become a compulsive overexerciser.
I eat a balanced diet, but I do have treats. But the treats have an interesting was of biting me in the butt. I notice that the day after having a treat --- say a nice dessert or a bag of chips (BTW, which came in a single serving size, but is it my imagination or are small bags of chips getting bigger?), I will feel deprived and crave another treat, as if I had been subsisting on a diet of celery sticks, when I most definitely had not. Yet if I just have my usual evening treat of a small bar of dark chocolate, my cravings just stay at their normal level (always there in the background, but not very strong). The nature of my beast, I guess, I'm built differently. Aren't I? What do "normies" feel? I'll have to ask one. Maybe they do the same thing.
Four years. It kind of feels the same way as when I think about how long I've been married. Simultaneously it seems like a very long time, ok, like forever, and almost no time.
So, how am I after 4 years? Well again, I feel very different and yet not changed at all. I am not where I want to be in my life with my career, which seems to be on hold right now, but I am enjoying days where I feel physically well. I am physically fit, foot injury not withstanding. As I start physiotherapy, I'm picking up the pace of my swimming. I am trying to be healthy, exercising moderately, but not become a compulsive overexerciser.
I eat a balanced diet, but I do have treats. But the treats have an interesting was of biting me in the butt. I notice that the day after having a treat --- say a nice dessert or a bag of chips (BTW, which came in a single serving size, but is it my imagination or are small bags of chips getting bigger?), I will feel deprived and crave another treat, as if I had been subsisting on a diet of celery sticks, when I most definitely had not. Yet if I just have my usual evening treat of a small bar of dark chocolate, my cravings just stay at their normal level (always there in the background, but not very strong). The nature of my beast, I guess, I'm built differently. Aren't I? What do "normies" feel? I'll have to ask one. Maybe they do the same thing.
24.5.07
Stuck in the Mud?
Unlike yesterday's visitors to my pool (above) I'm feeling a bit stuck in the mud today. Do you get that? It is absolutely a beautiful day, and I'm feeling like I should be doing something, God knows there's enough around here to do, and yet I don't really want to do anything. I feel stuck. But maybe, just maybe, my psyche is saying: do absolutely nothing. The weather is great, I can smell BF/neighbour's lilacs through the open window, I iced my sore foot (a bit of fascia irritation, I think) by sticking it in the still frigid pool and it feels much better. I can just write, I can just be here. I'm hoping the ducks will return, but if they don't, oh well, probably best for the pool chemistry...
I weighed myself this morning, and my weight is stable, and I feel physically pretty good, sore foot notwithstanding. It's been almost 4 months since my surgery, and I feel nothing spectaular, just generally well. It seems like my biggest activity lately is being a --- jock??? I was afraid I was becoming a compulsive exerciser, but I'm not overdoing it, I took 2 days off last week from it because of the holiday, and I'm just enjoying being fit, my body moves, I can exercise and get winded, but I'm ok, I'm not going to die. I bought a new pair of swim goggles with some optical correction, and I can see in the pool! And, they don't leak!!! Ok, ok, so I was limping along for way too long with old swim goggles. And speaking of limping, I think my foot is sore because I went too long with my old running shoes. It's so hard for me to listen to my body, it has to hurt for me to pay attention. When my foot started hurting, I discovered that my hamstrings were way too tight, probably exacerbating my foot, and that stiff back I thought was just another middle age symptom? Hamstrings again. Some regular stretching is really loosening things up.
Self care is tough. I got an OA phone call from a member who is struggling not just with food but with taking care of herself, and we just talked about our challenges. Shame, caregiving for others when we're really hurting ourselves, and did I mention shame? Biggest aspect of our disease. I didn't try to cure her. I just listened and shared. And tried to keep listening to myself along the way. Oops, time to ice again! And I thought I was doing nothing!!!
15.5.07
Food and Friends
Social eating has to be the bane of most people who struggle with their weight. Mind you, I'm no stranger to sneak eating either --- it was one of my favorite binge methods, being able to eat continually while nobody was watching me. But I still struggle with social eating. Last night we were at a charity benefit for women in Afghanistan and I knew some good food was going to be served, so I went light on supper, just a poached egg on some braised cabbage (omigod, you gotta try the braised cabbage....go to Orangette's blog to get this fabulous recipe. Perfect accompaniment if you're already roasting something in the oven, and I cut down on the oil by almost half and it was still unctuously tasty. Go ahead, roast the whole head. The leftovers are even better!) so I could still sample the Afghan treats. But peril lies in the buffet table, because in large groups, I get very anxious. Honestly, I get anxious in small groups too. In fact, any group over 3. I just start eating to calm my nerves. The food goes in, and then faster, and faster... So I've got to watch it.
Last night was an interesting challenge. A number of fellow OA members were singing in the choir that entertained us. So there was my reality check--- they were there to ground me. But also in the choir was a surprise for me: an old friend that I had been very close to around fifteen years ago and then had broken away from because, well, she was emotionally and mentally ill and so was I. I felt like we were both going under, and I did what I do when I feel out of my depth, I disappeared. It's a recurring pattern for me. We hadn't talked for years. Well, my friend resurfaced and she wants to try to pick us up again. She looks really well. But I'm scared. I'm not sure I can handle this. More importantly, do I want to handle this again? Can we be friends in a way that is not co-dependent?
In the context of this blog, this is an important question, because I've learned that the more I stuff down my feelings and needs when I'm with others, I just need that balm of food all the more. It's like my security blanket. A security blanket with a bomb hidden underneath!
Last night was an interesting challenge. A number of fellow OA members were singing in the choir that entertained us. So there was my reality check--- they were there to ground me. But also in the choir was a surprise for me: an old friend that I had been very close to around fifteen years ago and then had broken away from because, well, she was emotionally and mentally ill and so was I. I felt like we were both going under, and I did what I do when I feel out of my depth, I disappeared. It's a recurring pattern for me. We hadn't talked for years. Well, my friend resurfaced and she wants to try to pick us up again. She looks really well. But I'm scared. I'm not sure I can handle this. More importantly, do I want to handle this again? Can we be friends in a way that is not co-dependent?
In the context of this blog, this is an important question, because I've learned that the more I stuff down my feelings and needs when I'm with others, I just need that balm of food all the more. It's like my security blanket. A security blanket with a bomb hidden underneath!
8.5.07
Curious
I can't figure it.
I just posted saying I needed to be honest about my weight and needing a larger size and then I bought a pair of size 8 denim capris because they just looked "right" sized when I held them up to me. I was at Costco and one of their "charms" is they don't have dressing rooms. If it doesn't fit you have to return it. But it did. I did try on a light jacket in a Small and it fit too. Maybe Costco sizes are, like everything else about the store, oversized, and/or I've gained muscle which weighs more than fat per inch size. After all, BF weighs about the same as me, but hates to exercise so she's a few sizes bigger than me.
Whatever. Obviously I have no clue.
I just posted saying I needed to be honest about my weight and needing a larger size and then I bought a pair of size 8 denim capris because they just looked "right" sized when I held them up to me. I was at Costco and one of their "charms" is they don't have dressing rooms. If it doesn't fit you have to return it. But it did. I did try on a light jacket in a Small and it fit too. Maybe Costco sizes are, like everything else about the store, oversized, and/or I've gained muscle which weighs more than fat per inch size. After all, BF weighs about the same as me, but hates to exercise so she's a few sizes bigger than me.
Whatever. Obviously I have no clue.
Reality Check
I need to be honest here. I have to change my profile because I have gained weight. I can blame the surgery in February, or whatever, but the last couple of months when I've weighed myself I've been closer to 160 than 150. I'm mildly concerned. I'm aware that after my surgery I indulged in a few too many pizzas while not getting a lot of exercise. And maybe I've been letting the treat fairy visit too often?
And I had a couple of no-shit binges. One in January, and one in early March. So, my size 8 jeans are getting a little too tight, and I actually had to buy a 10 in the last pair.
I don't feel bad, but I'm concerned that this could be a slippery slope, and I wish my jeans fit better. So, I need to take some action. Get back into programme a little more. I already mentioned an extra meeting a week would be good. More journalling to keep track of how I feel from day to day. Cleave to what has helped me in the past, shake off the belief that I was safe, that I wasn't going back "there". Well, if my body's inclination is to return to a higher weight, I have to be vigilant. Sucks kinda, but it's really just a reality check. I have work to do.
Yikes, it's noon, lunch! Snuck up on me. Guess blogging may help too.
And I had a couple of no-shit binges. One in January, and one in early March. So, my size 8 jeans are getting a little too tight, and I actually had to buy a 10 in the last pair.
I don't feel bad, but I'm concerned that this could be a slippery slope, and I wish my jeans fit better. So, I need to take some action. Get back into programme a little more. I already mentioned an extra meeting a week would be good. More journalling to keep track of how I feel from day to day. Cleave to what has helped me in the past, shake off the belief that I was safe, that I wasn't going back "there". Well, if my body's inclination is to return to a higher weight, I have to be vigilant. Sucks kinda, but it's really just a reality check. I have work to do.
Yikes, it's noon, lunch! Snuck up on me. Guess blogging may help too.
A Scary Book, but Why am I Surprised?
I've been reading exerpts of Gina Kolata's new book Rethinking Thin on the nytimes.com website, and it's a scary read. Because it reinforces that idea that losing and keeping off a substantial amount of weight is tough. Really tough. She maintains that studies indicate that my trying to stay at a healthy weight feels akin to starving, according to my body. And that does feel right. Another thing that feels accurate is this:
"There were a very few who did not get fat again, but they made staying thin their life’s work, becoming Weight Watchers lecturers, for example, and, always, counting calories and maintaining themselves in a permanent state of starvation."
I don't like the terms starving or starvation, because it feels like entirely too dire a term to describe how I feel about 80% of the time, but yes, there are times, like last night, when I was dying for a bag of chips and it did feel a bit like I was starving. Although I had other, less calorie- dense and more filling snacks, my body was sending me messages like, "aw come on, gimme a break, can't we have something fun to eat, just this once?!" I was having nostalgic flashbacks of the days when Fuzz and I would mow our way through a large bag of chips on the couch in front of the tv. But when I actually thought about it, I remembered that only three days previous I was at a cocktail TGIF with BF and other girl friends, and I had had lots of rich salty treats: crackers, cheese, pate, dip, crusty bread... I'd had my treats, and it was too soon for another exception.
Actually, I've just realized that my body is still playing tricks on my memory. I forgot that I've got a disease, and it's perfectly reasonable for that disease to include a body memory that wants me to be binge eating. And from hard experience I've found that anything less than the calories that keep me above 300 pounds (or maybe higher, if I hadn't stopped in time) feels like starvation --- AT TIMES. I find that those strong cravings that feel so compelling often leave when I've decided it's not getting filled and distract myself with another activity and my mouth with a cup of tea.
I don't count calories by the way, but I do have a fairly unchanging plan of eating, which includes regularly weighing and measuring foods I'm worried I'll eat too much of. And I'm having to relearn my life ---- emotionally, I feel I'm about 4 years old. I'm not a WW lecturer, but at times OA has been just as big a part of my life, I have spoken at many meetings, and I think that I actually need to increase the amount of time I spend on OA, maybe attending a 3rd meeting a week and doing more outreach work to my friends in the programme. Because I'm stuck with me, and I gotta work it if I want to keep where I am. And if that means relearning how to be in the world, well, right now I feel like I'm up for the fight. Ahrrr ahrrrrr, grrr.... ok, put up yer dukes!
"There were a very few who did not get fat again, but they made staying thin their life’s work, becoming Weight Watchers lecturers, for example, and, always, counting calories and maintaining themselves in a permanent state of starvation."
I don't like the terms starving or starvation, because it feels like entirely too dire a term to describe how I feel about 80% of the time, but yes, there are times, like last night, when I was dying for a bag of chips and it did feel a bit like I was starving. Although I had other, less calorie- dense and more filling snacks, my body was sending me messages like, "aw come on, gimme a break, can't we have something fun to eat, just this once?!" I was having nostalgic flashbacks of the days when Fuzz and I would mow our way through a large bag of chips on the couch in front of the tv. But when I actually thought about it, I remembered that only three days previous I was at a cocktail TGIF with BF and other girl friends, and I had had lots of rich salty treats: crackers, cheese, pate, dip, crusty bread... I'd had my treats, and it was too soon for another exception.
Actually, I've just realized that my body is still playing tricks on my memory. I forgot that I've got a disease, and it's perfectly reasonable for that disease to include a body memory that wants me to be binge eating. And from hard experience I've found that anything less than the calories that keep me above 300 pounds (or maybe higher, if I hadn't stopped in time) feels like starvation --- AT TIMES. I find that those strong cravings that feel so compelling often leave when I've decided it's not getting filled and distract myself with another activity and my mouth with a cup of tea.
I don't count calories by the way, but I do have a fairly unchanging plan of eating, which includes regularly weighing and measuring foods I'm worried I'll eat too much of. And I'm having to relearn my life ---- emotionally, I feel I'm about 4 years old. I'm not a WW lecturer, but at times OA has been just as big a part of my life, I have spoken at many meetings, and I think that I actually need to increase the amount of time I spend on OA, maybe attending a 3rd meeting a week and doing more outreach work to my friends in the programme. Because I'm stuck with me, and I gotta work it if I want to keep where I am. And if that means relearning how to be in the world, well, right now I feel like I'm up for the fight. Ahrrr ahrrrrr, grrr.... ok, put up yer dukes!
7.5.07
Regrets and Questions
While out shoppping with a friend yesterday I ran into an acquaintance. She was a Starbucks buddy, one of those people I would see regularly when I stopped for coffee and she or I would be parked in one of the few comfy chairs left in the store these days. She has a bright and "out there" personality to match her over-the-top raspberry hair and hip glasses, and she isn't the type of person that goes unnoticed.
I hadn't seen her for a long time, and honestly, I had forgotten that she had briefly attended OA, at least partly due to me spouting off about how it has helped me. Interestingly, I had forgotten she had expressed a desire to lose weight. She's tall, and I never thought she had that much to lose, but then from my frame of reference, anyone who wants to lose less than say, 80 pounds isn't all that fat in my eyes. Like many people, she didn't come back after a meeting or two. I hadn't seen her since then and self-absorbed kid that I am, hadn't thought about her recently. I had forgotten how desperate she was to change her life, and her health, and how out of control she felt.
Anyway, out of the blue she tells me she's scheduled to have gastric bypass surgery, roux en y, (because our government health plan will cover it, I believe, rather than the less drastic lap-band procedure) in New York later this month. I was shocked. I don't consider her the usual candidate for this operation, primarily because she doesn't appear to be morbidly obese. I know, it's none of my business, but it makes me sad that this dynamic woman struggling with her weight and depression decided this was her only alternative.
Was there more I could have done to help? Damn it, I don't know. Perhaps I have to be more aggressive in reaching out to newcomers. I do tend to retreat into my own shell o' shame. On the other hand, I have had episodes where I've tried to save people from themselves (I believe they call it co-dependency...) and it's gone badly. I do know that there but for the grace of God go I, and who knows? I could be in the same position some day if I gained back enough weight to make me that desperate. I know that the longer I stay thin the more the odds are in my favour, but face it, I know I've been battling long odds in this war.
I hope the suregeons know what they are doing and she gets good post operative care and counselling. I hope she doesn't have bad side effects now or in the long term. Above all, I hope she's happier. The woman I saw yesterday seemed sad and quite desperate, but very determined, but then she's a determined personality. I hope it serves her in good health to come.
I hadn't seen her for a long time, and honestly, I had forgotten that she had briefly attended OA, at least partly due to me spouting off about how it has helped me. Interestingly, I had forgotten she had expressed a desire to lose weight. She's tall, and I never thought she had that much to lose, but then from my frame of reference, anyone who wants to lose less than say, 80 pounds isn't all that fat in my eyes. Like many people, she didn't come back after a meeting or two. I hadn't seen her since then and self-absorbed kid that I am, hadn't thought about her recently. I had forgotten how desperate she was to change her life, and her health, and how out of control she felt.
Anyway, out of the blue she tells me she's scheduled to have gastric bypass surgery, roux en y, (because our government health plan will cover it, I believe, rather than the less drastic lap-band procedure) in New York later this month. I was shocked. I don't consider her the usual candidate for this operation, primarily because she doesn't appear to be morbidly obese. I know, it's none of my business, but it makes me sad that this dynamic woman struggling with her weight and depression decided this was her only alternative.
Was there more I could have done to help? Damn it, I don't know. Perhaps I have to be more aggressive in reaching out to newcomers. I do tend to retreat into my own shell o' shame. On the other hand, I have had episodes where I've tried to save people from themselves (I believe they call it co-dependency...) and it's gone badly. I do know that there but for the grace of God go I, and who knows? I could be in the same position some day if I gained back enough weight to make me that desperate. I know that the longer I stay thin the more the odds are in my favour, but face it, I know I've been battling long odds in this war.
I hope the suregeons know what they are doing and she gets good post operative care and counselling. I hope she doesn't have bad side effects now or in the long term. Above all, I hope she's happier. The woman I saw yesterday seemed sad and quite desperate, but very determined, but then she's a determined personality. I hope it serves her in good health to come.
30.4.07
Ain't She a Beauty?
Just ordered her from Totally Scooters in Toronto! Yes, she looks suspiciously like a Vespa but half the price (come on, we're talking scooters here, not Ducatis!), and I really dig that color, which is actually rather close to my hair color, I think. Somebody asked me if I had a name for her, but I don't yet. Naranja?
Of course, I'm not vain or anything... but I was madly scanning the web for accessories, wanting to be the perfect scooter girl. But then it hit me. I was sittting in a 12 step meeting having just whipped there on my bike, and I realized that what I was wearing on my bike would be just fine on a scooter. It's not as if I'm cruising the highway on a big beefy cruiser, I will be just scooting around town! I already own three old leather jackets and some sturdy boots, and I even have my old motorcycle gauntlets kicking around from when I owned my Kawasaki 440 ----gulp--- 25 years ago. Oh my lord, it actually has been a quarter century since "diverted" a year's tuition into buying a bike, completely without telling my parents (I always was a sneaky rebel). I kept the helmet but I need a new one, definitely, but the gauntlets have come in handy when it was time to prune those extra thorny old fashioned roses.
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