The Wagon Only Goes in Circles

The problem with dieting is that it doesn't actually get you anywhere, at least not for long. On the wagon, off the wagon, whatever, it doesn't matter because the wagon isn't really going anywhere – it just goes round and round and round in the same circle. A few pounds up, a few pounds down; up, down, up, down, round and round and round she goes...

So the next hardest thing I had to do in recovery – after the “love yourself” thing, which I'm still working on – was to walk away from the wagon. Not just get off of The Diet Wagon (no problem, I've done that a thousand times) but turn my back on it and leave it behind.

Wait... No more diets? Ever? That's crazy talk! How am I supposed to lose weight?

Well, come to think of it, have you ever actually “lost weight” on all these diets you've been doing? I mean, really lost it, gone forever, never to be found again?

Ummm.... no. Haven't you noticed, I do weigh almost 300 pounds. Diets aren't helping me. They are, in fact, having exactly the opposite effect of what I intended. I'm fatter. Every year I just get fatter. Perhaps it's my fault. I'm a failure, weak. I can't stick to a diet.

Really? What about all that “love yourself” stuff you've been going on about? You're strong, capable, you have a successful marriage, you finished your degree, your employers love you because you work hard and exceed expectations. Your friends and loved ones know that they can count on you because you do what you say you will. Straight A student forever (except for that pesky Astrophysics thing). You get shit done, girl.

Yeah, but....

Nope. I ain't buying it. You could handle work, school, home, homework, and still went to the gym three times a week for two hours a day. What really happened?

What happened? Pain. Pain happened.
Sadness. Unbearable sadness. Hate. Anger. Fear. Emptiness.

Ah... emptiness. How do you fill the void? Dull the pain? Drown the anger the hate and the fear? What do you do, what have you always done?

I stuff it. I fill it up and cover it over with food. Until I can't feel it, until I can't move. Until I don't care.

Until you don't care about what?

About how I look. How people treat me. The things strangers say, like they have the right. About how far I still have to go, how fat I still am, how fat I'm gonna get. About how miserable I always feel, and hungry and frustrated and angry and scared. About how no matter how much weight I lose I'm never going to feel good again, I'm always going to be ugly and weird and frightened inside.

So dieting doesn't make you thin, and it doesn't make you happy. In fact, it makes things worse. It makes you FEEL worse. You keep getting on this wagon and going off full speed, trying to hang on, but then you fall off and you're still in the same damn place. It's like it always drops you off at the all-you-can-eat binge cafe, no matter how long you managed to hold on this time. No matter how far away you try to get on that wagon, you always come back.

Maybe it is time to turn your back on the wagon and face the real problem. Stay on your own two feet, keep your balance, and begin to deal with these things you are afraid of. Food doesn't do it. Diets don't do it. Only you can do it. So fuck the wagon... stand up and fight!

Caturday: Father's Day Edition

I have been away for a week, coincidentally to be there for a family emergency concerning my father. Regular posting to recommence this week.

So, Happy Father's Day to the dads and those who love them...

Caturday: Best Friends' Day Edition

In honor of my three boys and also my own BFF of 25 years...

 

Stark Naked Man

And now that I have your attention, I'm sharing something wonderful I found on Facebook today... (Please note, that link is very NSFW.)

Here's a sample:

"I will not get into the things I’ve done out of self-hatred and shame and fear over the past decade or two. I will not repeat the deflections and lies I’ve said to women who’ve told me my body is sexy. You either know most of them already, or you don’t. Some folks will say I’m not fat enough to be doing this. Others will say I’m too fat to be doing this. Both groups can feel free to go piss up a rope. I’m not doing this for them, I’m doing it for me. And maybe for you."

You go, mister!

They Have No Power Over Me

So, after a brief break, let’s get back to daily affirmations and the fear of losing the things that I care about. Below is a journal entry from last year, actually from exactly a year ago, minus one day. Funny that, because just this past weekend I was learning this lesson again, but better.

I went to visit my mother and we talked, however briefly, about the pain of my childhood. She is also filled with regret and pain for the past, though that is not what I really wanted for her. I wanted her to be aware, I know that, but I didn’t want her to suffer as I have. I tried to tell her - and you know, I didn’t even realize that I believed it until I said it out loud - that the past is done and gone. That pain has no place in my life any longer, I have finally let my past fall away. Now I get to move on and work on my future and enjoy my present. The past and its monsters are no longer in control of my brain, my emotions. I no longer need to REACT to my past - I may simply ACT in the here and now to take care of myself.

Here’s what I wrote about this one year ago yesterday:

I had a lot to think about after yesterday’s (therapy) session and those affirmations I chose. Last night, while trying to sleep, I kept thinking about why I’m afraid of my feelings, why I think that I will always lose what I love.

But the truth is, that stuff is no longer of any use to me. And as a defense mechanism, it sucks. There is no one now who can hurt me, no one who will use my emotions against me, and no one who can take away the things - the people - that I love. As a child, I was trapped. I couldn’t get away from my mother’s husbands or from the bullies at school. Now, as an adult, I have the power to excise those kinds of people from my life. Like the Goblin King (from the movie Labyrinth), they have no power over me.

I don’t need pain or numbness to blunt my emotions any longer. I don’t need to hide my fears, my anger, my pain, or even my joy. I don’t need to hide in the shower to cry anymore. There is no one left to hurt me - I have left them all behind.

All I will allow in my life are people who love me. I deserve that.


Affirmations:

I THOUGHT that I deserved this pain, but I don’t. 

I deserve good things as much as anyone else. 

I give myself permission to ENJOY. 

(6-4-2011)

Sunday Brunch: The Help

Wow, so many people really dislike The Help because it was written by a little white gal in stereotypical black vernacular while none of the white girls spoke in typical southern vernacular. They accuse her of trying to write the next great southern novel of racism, and failing miserably.

Just set all that aside, I think. This is a novel from a white girl, raised in a certain way in the south, left with some unresolved feelings about that childhood, which she chose to explore through fiction. It's just that and nothing more, but engaging and pretty good for all that. No, the dialog isn't perfect. The black women talk like she remembers black women talking and - surprise! - the white women don't have accents because the author talks like that (or at least, once did) and everyone knows that *we all* don't have an accent but *ya'll* do.

Also, I didn't get the impression that the book (or even the movie) was all about "the white woman saves the day again." Skeeter faded out of importance very quickly for me, other than an occasional reminder that she was the one typing up the manuscript. The real story was about Aibileen and Minnie - their lives and the real danger they were in for sharing their stories. Skeeter might have gotten the ball rolling, but she wouldn't have had a story at all if not for Aibileen. Skeeter was just there as a way to connect the real author and the novel with white readers. Did you ever see this many white women running around carrying The Color Purple and forcing all of their friends to read it?

I enjoyed this book immensely. It kept me up late at night, it transported me to another place and time, and made me care about the people there. It did what it was supposed to do - provided an escape - what more can you ask of popular fiction?

Caturday: Super Late Monday Edition!