Something’s Got to Give

Over the course of the last seven months I have spent a lot of time looking inward…seeing what about myself are strengths and weaknesses…observing how I interact with people…trying to figure out what makes me happy and what makes me sad. You would think this would be an easy task since I have lived within myself for 38 years…but it has been difficult and at times not pretty and frustrating.

Something has got to give.

The thing I hate most about myself is the thing that consumes the majority of my thoughts, feelings, and actions. It is what I base my whole life on. My weight. My constant companion. Whether I am losing or gaining, at a good place or a bad place, my mind always goes there. And I know it will for the rest of my life. At times I look only forward. This summer I have been working very hard…but I have not had great results (in my opinion).

I have never struggled to lose weight like I have in the past year. I have been to my general practitioner. I have been to my OB/GYN. All test are normal. Basically,I just have a very slow metabolism. I need to have a hard work out twice a day, but I do not have the energy or the drive to do it. It is not about time or commitment; it is about not wanting to wake up early in the summertime. I could easily get up at 5:00 while Shawn and the kids are sleeping a do a workout. But I don’t because, honestly, I don’t want to.

I also have a food addiction. It is hard to say no to things I love to eat and easy to justify over eating. I have been known to binge eat on many many occasions. I have a sweet craving that can send me into a spin if I am not careful. Food is not just nourishment for me, it is love and pleasure and all-consuming. When I veer off the straight and narrow just a little bit it can send me into a downward spiral so far that it takes weeks to recover.

And when I am not losing weight at a pace I deem acceptable, then it gets very easy for me to lose total control. I have felt myself getting that way in the last couple of weeks.

As far as exercising goes, I am committed. Sixty minutes five (or six) days a week has been the norm. I have found classes I like and that push me and I work hard on the treadmill and elliptical trainer. I have counted calories and stayed on track since June. I have also committed to a friend that once school starts I will be joining her three days a week for early morning, before work sweat sessions.

But the weight is just not coming off.

To say I am frustrated does not even skim the surface of how I am feeling. I feel desperate and alone and like a failure and a coward. It is debilitating and makes my mind go to places I do not want to be. It makes me want to eat…to stuff those feelings…to feed the beast so to speak.

I guess I can take assurance in some sense that I recognize what is happening an I am doing something about it, this weekend was not good…but I am feeling more positive and back on track this morning.

One day at a time.


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