Out of the closet

If I had a nickel for every time the contents of my closet has made me cry, I could pay someone to lose my weight for me. There is really nothing worse than having plans and having nothing to wear. This shirt is too tight but if I tug on it, maybe I will be comfortable for a few minutes. If I lay down, I can probably get these pants zipped. I am sure no one will notice that the buttons on this blouse are about to pop. I repeated that experience more times than I can count. There were nights when I tried on 10 shirts, minimum. Of course, none of them worked because it didn't matter what I wore. Just looking at myself in the mirror was traumatic.

Yesterday, I had my first *positive* closet experience. I have to admit, that I don't really notice much change in myself. Some pants are a little baggie and I guess shirts fit differently. But I am not a size 6 yet or anything, so the change is slow. On a lark, I decided to try on a shirt that I'd never been able to wear before. I am sure I am not the only one who owns clothing that fit in the dressing room but doesn't quite once it gets home. You were sucking in your gut and standing ramrod straight and it was a thin day. But now it gaps or strains across your chest. So it sits in the closet until you get the courage to try it on.

I grabbed one of those shirts, took a deep breath and put it on. The shirt? Was too big. I just stood there and pulled on it and stared at it in the mirror. I got a little thrill and a kick of confidence. The next thing I did was grab one of my "party" shirts from college. It was one that I bought because it was sparkly and it fit okay. It was stretchy material so if I tugged on it throughout the night, I could deal with it.

Another deep breath and I pulled the shirt over my head. It was actually loose on me! That's when the tears came. I have no idea why that is what got me but it did. Just the concept that I am thinner than I was six years ago is a little daunting. As someone who has never lost more than 5 pounds at a time, the ramifications of 21 pounds was a bit overwhelming.

So I wore the shirt to work because I couldn't get enough of that thrill! It wasn't even really a professional-ish work shirt, but I didn't care. *l* So when I got home today, I poked around to find something else to try on. This time. a dress that I wore once and made the mistake of washing and drying it, rendering it too tight to wear. It's barely wearable now. A bit baggy in the chest and the sides, even. I cried even harder today because I got that dress during a totally shitty time in my life and I love the fact that I am a thinner and happier version of that person. Who is totally wearing that dress to work tomorrow. Heh.

This happened at a good time because the last two weeks have been difficult. I've been making excuses for eating bad things. I was feeling cocky and I fell in to that trap of wanting to reward myself or be "normal" because I had been so successful. I am glad a *positive* shock was available instead of a depressing weight gain.

Next, we try some cheap jeans I found on Gap.com that I bought a size smaller than what I was currently wearing. We shall see. If they don't fit now, I am fine with that. Sixty dollar jeans for $20 are a nice thing to work towards, if you ask me.

It's a very complicated formula

I did not gain any weight last week. Woo? I think that's bad. Bad bad bad. I should have gained weight. I ate an ASSLOAD of the crapiest crap that ever crapped. No gain. There should be more consequences for binging on deep-fried w-shaped tater tots. Balls of fat should spontaniously appear on the side of my face or something. Okay, maybe not quite that bad.

The point is, I feel like I got away with something and that's never ever good. Because my drive and my self-control is tightly linked to the rewards that come with the sacrifices. If I don't make sacrifices and I come out unscathed, the bitchy fat girl in my head gets louder and the healthy me starts to listen to her. That is never, ever good, people. Ever. I suppose I should thank my lucky moons and consider this a learning experience. But I am never mature like that.

And not only did I have the tots from hades, I had a nice planned bingey weekend. I bought some dip and some chips and pizza fixins. It was a grand ol' time. I almost found it amusing, however, that I couldn't bring myself to buy the actual horrible food I used to snarf on, so that's a step in the right direction. I made myself look at the nutritional label of everything I *wanted* and I couldn't bring myself to eat a 2,000 calorie pizza. That's not something I would have turned down in the past. The dip was relatively healthy compared to other choices, the chips were baked and low-fat and the pizza crust was spelt, with turkey pepperoni and low-fat cheese. I barely went over my calorie limit, yet still stuffed my face.

Again, not exactly what I need or want to be doing right now. But at least I've trained myself to choose smarter. It's a step in the right direction. The next step should be avoiding the binging all together. Baby steps, yo.

I had another incident with Mommy!Co-worker yesterday. I was having some chips with my tortilla-less burrito and she was like "what are you eating?? I thought those weren't on your diet?!?" and then followed it up with some pouty-mommy faces. Gah. I made sure to input them in to my food diary, I only ate one serving and I had the calorie and carbs to do so. I mean, I skipped the lucious and chewy goodness of the flour tortilla that used to lovingly cradle my burriton, let me have some FUCKING chips.

Think I need have a chat with her? Maybe just a little.