Relentlessly Me

Moving on up...out...over...whatever!

yoyogurl — Fri, 29 Feb 2008 21:31:00 +0000

Yeah, I know. It's a pain when people do this but...I needed a fresh start. All future posts will be here:

Absolutely I Do

So if any of you are still reading, come on over!

That's how I roll

yoyogurl — Thu, 03 May 2007 21:15:00 +0000

We had a work happy hour at a nice sushi place last night. I was very diligent and put what I planned to eat in my Spark log before I left. Can you see where this is going yet? If you are thinking I am going to talk about how I followed my plan, you have been reading a different blog.

Yes, I ended up eating one extra roll. Um, a shrimp crunch roll which, while tasty, was probably about the worst thing I could have chosen. Did I mention tasty? Part of it was because my boss was buying, so the extra incentive to only buy one California roll and some edamame to save money sort of went out the window. How can I turn down FREE SUSHI?? It would have been criminal! And instead of just ordering one roll at a time, I got two because I was scared to be hungry. I was literally afraid that I would eat my edamame and my roll and then, I dunno, starve to death? Have to have a piece of fruit when I got home?

The sad part is that I was actually a little too full when I was done. I probably could have at least halved that shrimp roll. But I shoved that whole thing down because it was there. I've been actively telling myself that there isn't anything I *can't* eat, I just have to be smart about it, so that's the main reason I am disappointed in my choices. However, I could have had a free martini and I stuck with iced tea, so I get one little gold star for that.

It's funny, sushi always makes me think of Erin of Lose the Buddha fame. She was one of the bloggers that inspired me when I first started this thing so many years ago. I remember not understanding how someone who "only" weighed 170 pounds could suffer as much as me. I would look at her "before" pictures and think to myself, "I would kill to weigh that!" But I liked her writing and I was still inspired, so I kept reading.

Then one day, she posted an entry about how she used to get sushi to go. She described eating it and being so full and not being able to stop because it tasted so good and how she loved the whole experience of it, from the flavors to the carb coma afterwards. I am paraphrasing, as her old archive isn't working. But the point is, she did get it. And that's when I realized that it wasn't the actual pounds that mattered, it was how I gained them. I mean, that was years ago, so I obviously still have a lot of issues with that concept and I still get on the scale and tell myself I would feel less miserable if the weight would magically disappear. Which, is sort of true, but also you are always you, no matter what size you wear. Sometimes I need I reminder of that, I guess.

Anyway, I was thinking about that and then Gretchen left me a super nice comment about how I inspired *her* that kind of made my day. Anyone who says that the communities you are part of on the interwebs don't count somehow is, well, stupid and lame and you shouldn't listen to them. I know I would be a lot worse off if it weren't for people like Erin and all the other people I've read and linked to in the past.

And of course now my blogrolling is broken! Irony, thy name is Blogger.

Just Like Grandma Used to Make

yoyogurl — Wed, 02 May 2007 01:25:00 +0000

Sometimes, I think my subject lines are too literal.

For dinner this evening, I made a broccoli casserole that my grandmother used to make for me when I was a kid. It wasn't some Southern delicacy she learned growing up in Mississippi but one she got out of a popular woman's magazine like Good Housekeeping or something.

It was part of her effort to get me to eat more veggies, as I was not a fan when I was a kid. Most of the time, I'd eat the tasty casserole goodness, picking around the icky broccoli. But she kept making it, probably in the hopes that some of the broccoli would accidentally make it into my mouth.

This was the first time I've ever made it for myself (I substituted some things to lower the fat and calories) and it certainly brought back a lot of memories. My grandmother is a bit of a conundrum for me because my relationship with her was always positive and loving. I don't ever remember her raising her voice to me or anything.

But I learned later in life about the things she put my mother through as a child and it sort of boggles my mind a bit. It also explains a lot about how my mother ended up how she is. I won't get into specifics because I am sure my mother would kill me if she learned I wrote about it on the Internet for all 7 of my readers to see.

I will say that appearance was a big, big deal. Not necessarily physical perfection, but the idea that we must never show the world who we really are inside. You should always appear happier, more together, etc. than you feel inside, no matter what the cost. My mother learned to push those feelings down and hide them with food, then passed that skill on to me.

As I sat here eating my casserole, I wasn't really paying attention to the whole "stop when you are feeling a little full" thing. I wanted to eat as much of it as I could. Partly because I like the taste. Yes, now even the broccoli bits! But also because I wanted to get to feeling full as soon as possible. And when I got there, I wanted to eat a little bit more. Sometimes, I try to lie to myself and say that I just love the taste so much. But nothing tastes that good. I am not sure if it was brought on by memories of my grandmother and mother or just my general dysfunction.

I'll share the recipe right now but you have to promise to a)call your grandmother if she is still alive, and b)eat it mindfully. :)

Ingredients

1 10 oz pkg frozen chopped broccoli thawed & drained (I added a bit more as my bag was bigger and, to me, the point was the veggies)
1 cup fat-free sour cream
1 cup fat-free cottage cheese
1/2 cup Bisquick baking mix (I used the Heart Smart that really isn't that much smarter but that's all the store had so I went with it)
1/4 cup margarine or butter (I used Land O' Lakes whipped butter)
1/2 cup egg substitute (replacement for 2 eggs)
1 tomato, peeled & thinly sliced
1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees
Grease lightly a square baking dish (8 x 8 x 2")
Spread broccoli in dish
Beat sour cream, cottage cheese, Bisquick, butter & eggs substitute with hand beater for one minute
Pour over broccoli
Arrange tomato slices on top, sprinkle with parmesan
cheese
Bake until golden brown & knife inserted in center comes out clean (about 30-40 minutes)

According to SparkRecipies, if we consider it to make 8 small servings, the nutritional information is as follows:

Amount Per Serving
Calories 128.9
Total Fat 5.8 g
Saturated Fat 3.2 g
Cholesterol 14.1 mg
Sodium 217.5 mg
Potassium 192.4 mg
Total Carbohydrate 12.8 g
Dietary Fiber 1.3 g
Sugars 3.8 g
Protein 8.9 g
Vitamin A 18.1 %
Vitamin B-12 5.1 %
Vitamin B-6 5.0 %
Vitamin C 45.2 %
Vitamin D 1.0 %
Vitamin E 4.5 %
Calcium 14.0 %
Copper 1.0 %
Folate 9.4 %
Iron 4.8 %
Magnesium 1.7 %
Manganese 4.8 %
Niacin 1.0 %
Pantothenic Acid 1.3 %
Phosphorus 8.0 %
Riboflavin 4.1 %
Selenium 4.0 %
Thiamin 2.1 %
Zinc 1.4 %

Oh, also! Thanks for the lovely comments on my post yesterday. It is nice to know some people are reading!

What a difference a year makes.

yoyogurl — Thu, 26 Apr 2007 20:06:00 +0000

Er. Sort of.

Two years ago this month, I was having a nervous breakdown about going to a friends wedding that led me to make drastic diet changes that I stuck with for three months, got all cocky about and then promptly plummeted off the cliff of yo-yo dieting. I gained all the weight back and more. My first taste of success turned into my first taste of devastating failure.

A year ago today I was sitting in my car, eating cake with my hands. That was my 457th taste of desperation.

I haven't done that since, however, so score one for the home team! And I weigh a whopping 5 pounds less than I did on that day. Man, typing that out makes me want to cry! It wasn't a wasted year in terms of a lot of things but I always have a hard time dealing with the numbers game.

Anyway, I found a great therapist and she is great and it was great except then I changed jobs and my mental health benefits went from awesome to WHY DO YOU HATE ME GOD! In fact, they've changed so drastically that I can only afford to see her once a month instead of the once a week I was enjoying.

That's part of the reason I thought maybe I would start updating this a little bit more. I am going to miss being able to talk to her once a week, dammit. But if I get started about the state of mental health in this country and how insurance companies are dealing with it, I might break my keyboard or something.

Moving on!

I recently challenged myself to go two weeks without going out to eat, except for a planned outing I had. Because not only am I fat, I am also broke. So I figured stopping the going out to eat all the time would have a positive effect on my two biggest problems. I assumed that, like every other challenge I have ever given myself (for the most part), I would fail. I was WRONG! Yay for small victories. Right? RIGHT?

Right. Not only was it successful in terms of setting a goal and meeting it, it also jump started my "eat better, dammit" plan. I confess I am lazy and cooking at home can be daunting if I am not in the mood. Therefore, I have forced myself to be in the mood and it is pretty much working. I've also decided that, as much as I would love to eat fresh organic produce all the time, I can neither afford it or realistically gear up the energy to eat it all the time. Sometimes, *whispers* I have a frozen meal for lunch!

If you've read this blog at all (hello? helloooo?), then you probably know I am an all or nothing type of gal. In every. Facet. Of. My. Life. This causes problems constantly, so I am working hard to relax and just go with the flow. Eat well in this minute, hour, day, whatever. And make the best realistic choices for my health and well being.

Tomorrow it will be three weeks since I started my two weeks plan and I've only gone out to eat twice since the "ban" was lifted. Once, to Wendy's because I wanted a cheeseburger and fries, dammit. And once with my boss, he paid, and I had a tasty salad.

Right now, I am sitting at my work desk, sipping on some water and trying not to get too obsessive about anything. Obsessing about not obsessing. It's a gift I have, I guess.

So, like, I was talking about thzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

yoyogurl — Wed, 03 Jan 2007 22:18:00 +0000

Can eating better actually make you more tired? No? Maybe I am just special!

Actually, I probably have more energy at night and I don't give it an outlet, so when I try to go to sleep, I end up tossing and turning for an hour. Plus, no carb coma. Of course, I also have a tendency to obsess about what I am going to eat the next day/week/month/year during that time, too. Last night, it got to the point where I was dreaming about someone stealing the peanut butter on toast I was planning to have for breakfast.

Basically, it all adds up to me not getting a good night's sleep and being tired the next day. But I'm eating more fruits and veggies! Is that a good trade off?

I'd like to be the kind of person that can eat healthy without really thinking about it. But it's kind of like learning a foreign language at this point. If I don't study and do the word problems and read the text books and actually immerse myself in the culture of eating better, it will never be something I can just casually toss off at a moments notice. It takes a lot of energy for me to not grab fast food on the way home or actually cook something for dinner. Because I've spent the last 10 years at least doing those fast, easy and not-good-for-me things, so they are my automatic response. I have to literally reign myself in all day long at this point to even come close to eating healthy.

I want to do it because I want to be healthier and that's what drives my decision making. Unfortunately, making that grand pronouncement doesn't erase all the bad habits. I've read that it's easier to create good habits than break bad ones (or something to that effect) and, well, I am not sure I believe that!

The hardest part for me at this point is finding a middle-ground between eating whatever I want, when I want and obsessing over eating better every waking moment. It's a slippery slope either way and it kind of stresses me out trying not to get stressed out about it. It's not that I want to beat myself up for "failing" or anything, but I know that it will take me longer to get to the point of eating healthy being a habit if I continue to go to extremes all the time.

But I am doing the best that I can right now. I think that's important and I'm going to give myself credit for it and try to relax just a bit before I give myself a headache and a bacon cheeseburger.

should I tie some string around my finger?

yoyogurl — Thu, 14 Dec 2006 22:58:00 +0000

I think it's important to note, so that maybe I will not forget, that if I let myself get too hungry, my brain stops working correctly and then when I get food, I don't want to stop eating until I am so full I cannot move. I am sure there is some sort of genetic coding that triggers it. You know, in case I'm in my cave and my man won't be back from the hunt for long periods of time. I have to eat when the eatin's good and all that.

For some reason, being hungry is like a horrible scary place I never want to go. I am not sure what is up with that because rationally it makes no sense. And it also depends on my mood, too. When I don't really want to eat anything, being hungry doesn't bother me. But on regular days, it triggers a serious binge response.

I'd really just like to reboot my brain. Maybe wipe out some of the bad files so I wouldn't have this sort of problem.

Oh good. Holiday candy is officially all up in this office. I LOVE THIS TIME OF YEAR!

Um...

yoyogurl — Tue, 12 Dec 2006 19:57:00 +0000

Yeah, still not dead. I haven't been focusing on my weight at all these last few months. Part of it is that I was expending so much energy trying not to be depressed, it just wasn't possible to even think about anything else. And another part is that it frightens me to think about trying again and failing again like I did over this last year.

So, I am not going to be trying to do anything. No, I am not giving up. But I think I've learned that food plans and calorie counting and all that other stuff doesn't work for me. I get too caught up in where I want to be and not where I am. Then I get overwhelmed by the gap between the two. Once I start dwelling on that, it's all over.

I've talked with my therapist and we've agreed that it would be better for me to focus on eating because I want to be healthier, because my body needs good fuel, because I deserve those things. When I think about it, it seems like a scarily slow process and I really just want to get back on the South Beach and lose 30lbs in 2 months. But I can't live like that forever.

If I went back over this blog, which will be "celebrating" its five year anniversary next month, and counted the number of revelations, of light-bulb moments, of "this time it will be different" declarations, it would probably be pretty sad and it would make me, and you (if anyone is still reading this), question whether or not this time is any different. I honestly can't answer that question. I am tired of making promises to myself that I don't keep. So I am not promising anything. I'm just here, trying to love who I am and take better care of myself as an expression of that love. Wouldn't Oprah be proud? Heh.

I will say that today has been a good day. I had a nice granola bar for breakfast, some fruit and cheese for a snack and then an awesome Kashi� All Natural Entr�e for lunch. I highly recommend the Lemon Rosemary Chicken. YUM! And tonight, I have a super-special spa appointment planned. Because I'm worth it! *Heather Locklear hair-toss*

not dead, just restin'

yoyogurl — Tue, 20 Jun 2006 15:44:00 +0000

I haven't had much to say lately. It's basically "go to therapy, try not to eat a whole pizza, sleep, work, try not to eat a whole pizza, sleep." Not very interesting, that. And not very successful, either. Hormel owes me some stock options for the amount of pepperoni I've consumed in the last month.

And I guess all the shopping for bathing suits I've been doing lately hasn't helped. I mean, I have to have one because, really, what's the fucking point of a cruise if you aren't going to get an all-over tan, yes? The best suit I've found so far is a fucking swim dress and I really can't wrap my head around wearing such a thing. I was a competitive swimmer in high school (yes, the fat floats AND cuts through the water!) so the idea of wearing a suit for any reason other than the practical "covers my bits and doesn't get in the way" reasons is very foreign to me. So I'll probably go with a basic black Speedo because I've got a little pride left. (Not to say those that wear swimdresses do not. It's just a weird thing for *me*!)

I've also got a new job prospect on the horizon that is guaranteed to add more stress (and more money) to my life. As fragile as I feel emotionally, I can't ignore an opportunity that's pretty much been dropped into my lap. None of that pesky coverletter writing or waiting to hear back about an interview, which are, to me, the worst things about job searching. The interviews I can handle and probably even the disappointment of not getting it. It's working up the nerve to put myself out there over and over again. Anyway, I've been focused on that and it makes me crazy and therefore I eat. And lie around because I can't focus on anything else but that. Needless to say, I haven't really accomplished much.

But I did do some laundry! And I am still going to therapy! Apparently, I am supposed to give myself credit for doing those things and consistently getting out of bed every day. So, gold stars for me, I guess.

love your body. stop fixing it. it was never broken

yoyogurl — Thu, 25 May 2006 16:49:00 +0000

A little quote from Eve Ensler there. I found it via Act Boldly and it's rather appropriate for me right now, I think.

My last therapy appointment was all about how I see weight as a "problem", not in the sense that it's unhealthy but in that it makes me a bad and unworthy person. I know I am very wrapped up in the fact that I'll never be happy until I am thinner. Which is great, except for the fact that I'll never be thinner unless I figure out how to be happy as I am. What a giant cycle of suck that is but the sooner I deal with it, the better.

My best friend decided she wanted to go on a cruise for her 30th birthday so I said I was up for it. Of course, my first thought was "why can't she wait until I am not so fat to want to do this? I am going to be the fattest person on the boat! How can I have a good time when I am so gross!" Because, really, that's the healthiest reaction to the news I am going on an awesome vacation, right?

If I keep waiting around to do interesting and exciting things, I am never going to do anything. Which, I dunno, maybe that's what I am trying to do. Completely avoid life at all costs. Because fat people don't deserve to be happy, doncha know? How dare I go out and dance until dawn or lay in the sun without a care in the world? I've got work to do, here. I should be covered from head to toe and stuck in a dark corner until I am the right shape to dare show my face in public.

I mean, there where times in college, when I was out having a great time dancing and being goofy with my friends and some asshole felt the need to point and laugh at me. Or slide up to me on the dance floor and do the whole "it's hilarious that a guy might want to dance with you!" schtick. I mean, the fuck? I am just minding my own business but somehow my fatness gives you the right to piss on my parade?

And now I pretty much believe that. I don't have the right to go out and have a good time because I am worthless and people will laugh at me. Can you really blame me for believing that? It's ingrained in us since *birth* that thin and pretty means you are better.

I have absolutely no idea how to love myself in this body because no one has ever taught me that I possibly could do such a thing. So now I am thirty and trying to erase years and years of learning how to hate myself. It's just so damn hard, it makes me tired. Like, I just want to cry. My therapist was trying to tell me that my fattness does not disqualify me for things like dating. And I could not wrap my head around that. I don't trust anyone who would want to date me. That's so fucked up!! But even trying to think of being worthy actually brought tears to my eyes. Gah.

How do I learn to love myself? Tape affirmations to my bathroom mirror? Say nice things to myself all day long? It just seems like such an uphill battle, I don't know what to do.

dear universe: stop making it MORE difficult

yoyogurl — Fri, 12 May 2006 18:00:00 +0000

Okay, today? I've been desperately trying to make, if not super healthy, at least *better* food choices. For example, this morning, we went downstairs to the greasy BBQ place that has THE BEST hashbrows in the whole wide world. But I? I did not order them. I ordered scrambled eggs and, er, bacon. But still! Baby steps. So when I get back to my desk, I find that I have fried eggs AND a big pile of hasbrowns. Thankfully, a co-worker traded me eggs and I gave her my hasbrowns.

Then! At lunch, I ordered a half-order of hibachi chicken (which usually comes with yummy stir-fried veggies) and a California roll to go. When I got back to my desk, there was just chicken, no veggies and big pile of white rice. *head desk*

WORK WITH ME HERE! Jeez. *sigh*

like, omg

yoyogurl — Fri, 12 May 2006 16:24:00 +0000

Therapist (I must think of a new name for her) wants me to journal about all the little freak versions of me that live in my head. I know I am not the first person to come up with this concept. And other people have blogged about it in much more creative and interesting ways. I don't have the energy to go look for cute pictures of all the voices in my head. Heh. I'll guess I'll pick one of the *many* and go with it.

Let's start with Teen!Me. I was reading Megan McCafferty's retro blog yesterday and her posts from her journals as a kid and teenager are very reminscent of the Teen!Me. An unhealthy obsession with boys, self-indulgent whining about how very important really trivial things are, promises to CHANGE MY LIFE because I CAN BE A BETTER PERSON and a love of all things sparkly. That's the Teen!Me that lives in my head.

She thinks she is really fugly and no boy will ever love her. And she can't think of anything worse than not having a date for the dance. Her little corner of my mind is pink and glittery, with Justin Timberlake posters and lots of fuzzy pillows and pens filled with sparkly ink. She really wishes I would make my journal jazzier and she totally hates that I wear such boring clothes to work.

Teen!Me likes to talk about all the things she never got to do when I was actually a teenager. She lives vicariously through teen movies and romance novels. She's pretty sure she missed out on the most awesome stuff that ever happens to a girl and she'll never know what any of that cool stuff felt like. When she's not drawing hearts around Orlando Bloom, she's whining that I am wasting even more of my life and she wishes I would just shut up about how hard things are because she's going to fail another Spanish test and it can't possibly be more traumatic than being behind at work. She doesn't get along with Mom at all but wants to call her anyway because sometimes a girl just needs her mommy.

She has a lot of really creative and crazy ideas for how my hair should look, what kind of car I should drive and what shoes I should buy next. She finds the fashion choices available to be cringeworthy and if she's sees another old lady floral print cotten blouse with lace accent, she is totally going to hurl all over her bright-white K-Swiss, thank you very much. Teen!Me isn't sure what she wants to be when she grows up, maybe a graphic designer or a writer, but she knows it isn't what I am doing right now. She's kind of pissed at me most of the time because I don't put her neverending energy and enthusiam to good use. But she also hates cleaning her room and isn't afraid to throw a tantrum to get out of it. This usually ends with me eating mint chocolate chip ice cream and watching 10 Things I Hate About You.

teeny, tiny baby steps

yoyogurl — Fri, 05 May 2006 21:26:00 +0000

I had my first appointment with my therapist yesterday. I did a lot of research before I chose her and thank goodness I lucked upon a list of therapist that deal specifically with eating disorders and obesity. For some reason, it was very important for me to find someone like that. I guess it's just a comforting feeling to know they at least *try* to understand.

Anyway, I met with her yesterday and she was very nice. I explained to her that I went from feeling and looking the best I ever had to this downward spiral I can't seem to stop and I just can't figure out why. She didn't laugh at me, so she gets points there. She basically said it might get harder before it gets easier and I sort of already figured that out but it was good to hear. She also said that I should give myself credit for getting out and doing things like going to the dentist and making the appointment with her. Sometimes, I feel like an idiot for needed to be proud of myself for doing things that other people find completely normal and mundane but sometimes, it's the only thing that makes me feel like a human being. She made it very clear she's not one of those "oh, just pull yourself up by your boot straps!" people and that depression is not something that's easy to work your way out of, especially if it's to the point mine seems to be. I guess it was reassuring for a professional to tell me that I am not, in fact, insane and that this is not some weird thing I am imagining.

So I'll be seeing her once a week for the timing being. It's covered by my insurance, other than a $10 copay, so that's good. Hopefully, I'll be able to figure my way out of this eventually. I am not even focused on the food right now. Just getting out of bed and then maybe getting my brain working right again.

my soul could use a little good

yoyogurl — Wed, 26 Apr 2006 17:59:00 +0000

I have a confession to make. Just five minutes ago, I was eating a piece of chocolate caramel cake with my hands while sitting in my car in the parking garage where I work.

So, this is what rock bottom looks like!

it comes in pints?!?

yoyogurl — Mon, 24 Apr 2006 23:24:00 +0000

I went to the grocery store and bought $70 worth of food. Lots of fruits and veggies. Oh joy! I didn't go completely crazy with the low-carb. If I decide to go that route, as it worked last time, I am going to need to ease into it. I figured I'd start by maybe not buying frozen pizza and ice cream. Score one for the good guys!

Then when I got home I cleaned out the freezer. So much wasted food, I almost cried when I had to throw it out. That's why I tried not to go too crazy at the grocery store. I hate to waste food like that so I really need to be reasonable about things. But now I have a cleaned out freezer with only one little pint of chocolate ice cream to go with the fruit and veggies. Score two for the good guys!

However, since I was supposed to have done all that this weekend and instead spent it laying around on my rapidly expanding ass, I am going to call it even in the good v. bad struggle.

In other news, I should not had the giant chicken burrito and chips from Chipotle for lunch because now all I want to do is go to bed. I suppose getting 14 hours asleep would be a good way to keep my calories low. Heh.

is THAT what you are going to wear?

yoyogurl — Thu, 20 Apr 2006 19:53:00 +0000

Yesterday, I ordered $100 worth of shirts from EddieBauer.com because it's hot herrrrre in Texas and I weigh more than I did last Spring, so nothing I own fits me. I kept putting it off because I hate spending money on "fat" clothes. I always want to just wait until I am thinner to go shopping because I guess I think I'll end up with a closet full of expensive clothes that don't fit? I don't know. But when I came to work in a t-shirt and my stretchy black pants yesterday, I realized that I looked like I was in my pajamas and that just wasn't right.

Of course, it's so hard to shop after you've gained weight because *nothing* looks or fit right. Even if it does, all I can see is the extra chins and the way my arms bulge out here and look at the way the fabric clings to my fat roll here and OMG CAN I PLEASE JUST WEAR A MUMU AND BE DONE WITH IT?

One of the most frustrating thing about being fat is not really being able to have a very personal sense of style. I spend the majority of my shopping just trying to find things that *fit* without making me feel like a hippo. I don't have a lot of time to be picky about colors or cut or anything like that. If the pants zip and they aren't too long, that's about as far as I can go. Most of the time, I end up expressing myself through my shoes or earrings because it's a little easier to accessorize.

And, unfortunately, I don't find animal print or used hot air balloons to be all that flattering, so shopping in the women's department of most stores is pretty much pointless. While I applaud stores like ~~Lame Giant~~ Lane Bryant and some of the hipper online stores for at least trying, most of that stuff doesn't fit me either. Apparently, at my weight, I should be eight inches taller with gigantic boobs and a really wide ass. Instead, I'm a shorty that carries all her weight right in the middle and across the shoulders. So if it fits those things, the extra material around my breasts could be useful for, I don't know, shopping for fruit or something. And if a pair of pants fits me around the waist, I guarantee you that they will be too long because of my flat ass and unusually slim thighs. So even things that would normally be a positive for most women make me fashion challenged.

I am also not a fan of flowing tunics that are cut down to my navel. Yes, bigger girls can be sexy and all that jazz but 99% of it isn't appropriate for work. So, thanks Torrid but I am going to have to skip that sparkly tube top for now.

ctrl-alt-delete

yoyogurl — Wed, 19 Apr 2006 20:22:00 +0000

I don't know if it's dramatic irony or just coincidence but I started updating this thing regularly *last* March as well. I'd just found out about a friend's upcoming wedding and it really boosted me in to gear. The upside is I only weigh 13lbs more now than I did at this time last year. Oh, wait. That's not an upside at all!

I thought I'd experienced everything a Fat Girl could experience but I was wrong. I now know what it's like to be successful and have people notice it and then see those same people all the time and be completely appalled at what I know they are seeing. Those 30ish pounds I lost last year were the most significant of my life. I felt so good and I was so proud of myself. And then it all went to shit. It's a first for me to have that much success and then screw up. I'm more of a lose five pounds and then give up type of girl.

It's a bit like that saying about loving and losing or never having loved, blah blah whatever. I think both ways suck, honestly. I kind of wish I didn't know what it was like to be able to wear smaller jeans and have people notice. On the other hand, at least it's out there and I know if I give it effort, I can do it and after awhile, it's not that hard. The getting started is the hardest part for me and I just need to figure out how to break through and do it. I mean, I know how, really. My problem is always in the doing part.

I contacted a therapist that supposedly specializes in obesity issues. It was weird trying to Google for a doctor or therapist that focused on the fat. The majority of the links I got were for surgery and I don't even want to think about that. But she seemed to be genuine about it, so I e-mailed her. Of course, I haven't heard back yet but I am trying. I understand that part of the reason I fell off the wagon, so to speak, was because I was only dealing with my food issues and not with all the reasons I want to overeat. For those of you out there who always say that you don't have emotional issues, you just don't move enough and you make bad food choices, well, I envy you because I am very not that at all. So I've got to make sure I keep my depression under control because I cannot deal with both eating better/exercising AND not wanting to get out of bed. Just not going to work.

Am I depressed because I am fat or am I fat because I am depressed? It's a bit chicken before the egg. It doesn't really matter because I don't have one without the other in the end. If I am not depressed, I am less likely to be fat. If I am not fat, I am less likely to be depressed. They go hand in hand.

Can I talk in any more clich�s? I bet I can.

Anyway! The point is I am stuck in a rut (and my desk chair) and I've got to get out of it or the cycle of depression-pizza-pizza-depression will never ever end.

one in the hand is worth two in the cube

yoyogurl — Mon, 17 Apr 2006 18:27:00 +0000

After my painfully honest and pitiful post on Friday, I spent a lot of time at my desk thinking of all the things I was going to do over the weekend to make some positive changes in my life. It's pretty easy to sit in a cube and convince yourself that just *thinking* about doing things get's you pretty close to doing them. But if you are anything like me, it's about three counties away in reality.

I mean, I am the best planner. I can get a little notebook and plan the shit out of my next health renaissance. Getting off my ass and actually doing it all is a totally different thing. And I know that's part of my problem. Grandious plans with multiple steps that extend months into the future are, of course, more overwhelming than the Actually Doing center of my brain can compute. So I end up at more of the "fuck it!" stage than anything.

Which would explain that when I was finally unchained from my desk, I ran straight to Chili's and ordered enough food for at least three people. I suppose I should get some credit for not eating it all in one sitting, right? No, not really. Because then I proceeded to sit on my ass all weekend long. Not a dish was washed nor an apple purchased.

Just thinking about the energy I will need to extend to get where I need to go in anyway makes me want to crawl under my bed and never ever come out except to feed the cats and watch Veronica Mars. Where can one go to buy perspective? I need a six pack something fierce.

2 steps forward, 30 steps back

yoyogurl — Fri, 14 Apr 2006 15:52:00 +0000

So, I stepped on the scale for the first time in a few months last night. I didn't know it was possible to gain 15lbs in less than 3 months? Did you? Because it is! I guess the combination of quitting my second job at the book store and eating like there was no tomorrow works out to lots and lots of new pounds.

I kind of figured because nothing I own fits me and I really just don't even want to get out of bed these days. And thanks to my glorious weight loss of yore, it's actually *more* painful because I have a very clear memory of trying on clothes and having them not fit because they were *too big* and how wonderful that felt. It should be a movivator, right? Remember how good that felt? But it isn't. It just makes me feel like a giant failure.

On the one hand, I have a fuzzy memory of the actual eating better not being that difficult once I got into it. But I also remember the energy it took to get to that point and I ain't got it! Just thinking about it makes me want to cry. And then there is the whole getting cocky thing, thinking I could binge a bit because I was homes visting or I had a bad day or the sun fucking rose today!

I feel like I am chanting tomorrow, I will! TOMORROW! and tomorrow is like this very vague concept that I can't quite grasp and, gosh, those hashbrowns look really good. Maybe I'll just be fat and miserable forever! I'm so good at it, you know? I excel. I am the CHAMPION! Give me a trophy or something because ain't no one gonna to take my crown.

Not exactly something to be proud of but it's all I've got right now, unfortunately.

If I don't post about it, it didn't happen!

yoyogurl — Thu, 19 Jan 2006 18:27:00 +0000

Is that the way it works? No. Fuck.

Um. You know the thing about falling off the wagon that is, like, literally falling off a wagon? The longer you lie there on the ground feeling sorry for yourself, the further away the wagon gets and the harder you have to work to catch up to it again.

Here we are, six months and 15 pounds later. (I said later, not lighter! *sigh*) I am almost relieved that the tally isn't worse than that. If that doesn't give you a hint as to my health-related habits over the last few months, I don't know what else to say. When you are thinking I only gained fifteen pounds, I am guessing there is something seriously wrong.

I have lost count of the times I stared at the link to this journal, avoiding any thinking about it like the plague. I don't know. Maybe I really did believe that if I just ignored the last six months, they never really happened. If *you* don't know about it, it's not real! If there are any of *you* left. Heh.

No, I am not dead. No, I am not anywhere near my goal weight. And no, I have no idea what happens next.

So, how are you?

Subversive synapses

yoyogurl — Wed, 13 Jul 2005 15:30:00 +0000

Well, look at that! It's been awhile since I've updated. I'd like to pretend it's because I am big in Singapore now and it's gone to my head but that, unfortunately, is not it.

I am having some sort of delayed vacation reaction and it's seriously messing with my head. I mean, I did okay while I was away. A two-pound loss is practically ten when compared with the usual holiday weight issues, no? But, you see, I didn't deserve it. I ate badly. No, I mean it. I had french fries. TWICE! And pizza. Lots of pizza. In fact, one day? I had fries and pizza at the same time. Even worse, I snuck off by myself to have these things. In front of other people? I was an angel.

But, oh, when I got time alone. Lord. I ate all of those things I used to live for in my darkest days. Pepperoni calzone from Ruggeros, please. I used to have that almost every day when I went to school in Flint. And let me tell you, those were the dark dark darkest days. Someday, I might tell that story but we don't know each other well enough yet. Heh. And then there was the Halo Burger. Fried chicken sandwhich with mayo and cheese. Mayo and cheese, people. It was like binge city.

And I was so very conscious of what I was doing, too. That might have been the worst part. It was very "I am going to go eat this and then eat that and that and be completely and totally stuffed to the point of nausea and I am going to do it in secret!"

And then to come home and have gotten away with it? To have lost weight when I should have gained? Well, a normal person would have thanked whatever Goddess had arranged that and moved on with the healthy. But not me. No, no. I have to find the craziest most fucked up way to deal with it. Let's see how much I can get away with without gaining! Oooh. Hashbrowns. Sub sandwhiches not from the Jared-approved Subway menu. Hell, last night I ordered more of those stupid W-shaped tater tots from Pizza Hut! All of these acts totally and completely conscious.

Even worse, being away for awhile must have made the weight loss more noticable. I haven't gone a day yet without getting a positive comment. AND I KEEP FUCKING EATING! Right now? I seriously want to go to my favorite Chinese place, to which I have not been in 4 months, and have my favorite thing on the menu. There is fried batterness and sweet-sticky sauce involved there, plus some fried cheesy stuff. And I am *thisclose* to doing it. Even though I am here, in this place that has been so positive and helpful, talking about it ahead of time.

It makes no sense. I know that I have the power to not give in. I've proved it with months and months of work. I am more successful than ever before. Yet I cannot. stop. eating.

I guess it comes down to the core issues that got me here in the first place. The safety that I feel with all of the extra weight. The feelings of worthlessness, that I don't deserve to be happier. The long and difficult road that I see stretched out before me. Eh, a few pounds is nice but, damn girl, you are still fat.

I am also very aware that when I don't get enough time by myself and get behind on things like work and laundry and the like, I am much more likely to lock down in avoidance mode and stuff my face. I ride the wave of depression with a romance novel clutched in one hand and a slice of pizza in the other. It's stupid and pointless but it's what I know. And I can see that other me. The one that had all the success. She is standing off to the side, twitling her thumbs and entering all the food I am eating in an imaginary diary (because, hello? who has time to do the real thing when there are tater tots to eat?!?!).

I gotta get her and my lame-fatty self in the same room. I think, just maybe, she'd win a fight if I gave her the chance. But right now, I just want some damn General's chicken and an egg roll.

yoyogurl — Thu, 07 Jul 2005 14:18:00 +0000

Yes, I am still here. Still recovering from my vacation. I have a lot I want to talk about but not enough energy to get it all out. I somehow managed to lose 2 pounds while I was gone. I am sure that is a giant mistake and soon 8 pounds will appear on the scale in the coming weeks. I almost didn't write it down or change my tracker because it's so unbelievable to me.

Oh, and I took this survey thingie. You should, too.

All aboard!

yoyogurl — Mon, 04 Jul 2005 21:07:00 +0000

Next time I travel? I am totally taking a train.

Generally, my last day at home is rather pleasant and relaxing. My dad and I hang out in the morning and then have a leisurely lunch before it's time for me to fly out. But not this time. This time, my mother decided she wanted to have lunch with me and drop me off at the airport.

It started out okay. As well as gathering with my mother can go, really. Until we actually got to the airport. Once we were seated comfortably to wait to go through security (we were there way early, so we sat and chatted for awhile), mom decides it's time to have a talk.

It began innocent enough. A few comments about my hair. You see, when I travel, I generally don't give a damn what I look like. I am always tired and I am never looking forward to hours spent on planes and in airports. My hair and makeup are the last things on my mind. Also, I've been growing my hair out and recently, I have been putting it up in a little bun to get it out of my face. Well, mother doesn't like the bun. The bun isn't flattering. I will never get married and have children and I will die alone with 57 cats if I keep wearing my hair in a bun!

I wish I was kidding.

Then she started in with metaphorical yammering about how sprucing yourself up was like advertising and I basically just tried to block her out. Then? Then she started crying over the fact that I am going to die alone with 57 cats. She just knows that I am aching to get married and knows that I am lonely, blah blah mothercakes. This went on for a good ten minutes. Her bemoaning my single status, me telling her I was okay with where I am.

I have to admit that right now, the kind of guy I am looking for would not find me attractive. I don't think I would trust a guy who took one look at me and wanted to get to know me better. I know that might sound a little weird, but there it is. I will admit to allllll of you reading that I have, in fact, never been on a date. Does this bother me? Of course it does. Could I have gone on dates? Sure. If I don't mind my men a few decades older and a few missing teeth.

But I kid. Sort of. Really, it's just that I am still not in a place where I really know myself and the idea of getting in to a relationship right now is a bit more to chew than I am willing to bite off. Ahem.

Anyway, after my mother's lecture, I headed through security and waited for my plane to board. And wouldn't you know it? A hot guy was my seat mate. A hot guy in a Red Wings hat. And an iPod. And really sexy hands.

I must say that I appreciate my karmic bitchslaps to be pleasing to the eye. But it didn't make it any easier. Of course on today, of all days, after listening to my mom go on about it, I have to sit next to a hot guy I would totally want to date.

Checking in

yoyogurl — Sun, 03 Jul 2005 15:48:00 +0000

Whoa. I go on vacation and all sorts of things happen while I am away! So, hello to anyone who got here from some mention of me in a paper. I am completely in the dark about that!

I am not going to talk about what I have been eating because, well, I don't want to! Let's just say, it hasn't been the best. However, I think the trip has been a positive experience and I hope that I can use that to be inspired and work harder when I get back home. I don't have any major plans or things to do until October, so it's a lot of time to just focus on what I need to be doing.

Anyway, thanks for all of the comments! I appreciate the support. Also, it seems I am starting to get spam comments. Any suggestions on how to get rid of that?

The not so friendly skies

yoyogurl — Sun, 26 Jun 2005 14:03:00 +0000

Nothing brings home the reality of being fat than flying. Airplanes, for those who aren�t independently wealthy, are never comfortable, no matter what your size. But for those of us with a few (or a lot) of extra pounds, it can be an even more trying experience,

The seats are small and you are closer to your seatmates than anyone should ever be with a stranger. You are surrounded on all sides. A little bit of belly fat slides across the arm rest every time you shift to try to get more comfortable. And you aren�t quite sure what to do with your arms. You can�t keep them comfortable away from your body. There just isn�t enough room. Do you rest them on your stomach, drawing even more attention to your bulk? Ram them against your sides and live with the discomfort? Sometimes, I put the tray table down and lean on it, pretending to be so engrossed in my book that I don�t care that I resembled Quasimodo on a bad day, and praying that there will be enough room between the edge of my tray and my bellybutton. I can�t imagine the pain it causes people who are heavier than I am.

It seems that every time I have a good day and I start to feel pretty confident about myself, I am thrust in to another situation that shines a spotlight on the fact that I am no where near the person I want to be. I think that is something that those who have never been overweight will never understand. There are so many situations where your weight becomes the focus. From something as simple as walking by a window and catching a glimpse of yourself from the side to being stared at or forced in to a confining airline seat. It�s impossible to escape the fat and I find it to be overwhelming at times.

It doesn�t help that I am on my way home. I want to be confident and proud of what I have accomplished but it�s not nearly enough for me. Why should it be enough for anyone else? The glow of my shopping trip has worn off and all I can seem to think about is how fat I still am and that is all people are going to see. I don�t want to see those people from high school. They might not even notice or care but, again, I will be reminded that I am something less (or more, I suppose) than I once was. I will compose in my head all the horrible things they all *must* be thinking of me. Probably much worse than anything they would or could ever come up with, as I am an expert at such negativity . But it�s something very difficult to turn off.

I found myself overeating yesterday as I prepared for my trip home. I was consciously aware of what I was doing and I made little effort to stop myself. I am regretting it today, of course, as I sit here in this tiny seat. Rationally, I know I did not gain all the weight back overnight, nor do I look worse than I did yesterday. But the emotional toll is still weighing on me. Why do I let my little fat girl demon come out? Why can I sometimes stop her when other times I am powerless? How could I eat a whole tortilla after I�d gone *months* without even craving one?

I was literally sitting in my favorite burrito place, talking to myself inside my head. �You are going home and it will be stressful! You need something to soothe you! You haven�t been hungry for days so a few extra calories, fat grams and carbs won�t kill you.� You know the worst part? I didn�t input any of it in my food diary. Not one thing that went in my mouth yesterday was recorded. I can try to play it off as being too busy but we all know that is a lie. I just didn�t want to deal.

And I still don�t. Plus, I am petrified! I don�t want to slide backwards. I�ve made it so far. So much farther than ever before. If I let it get to me and I start to make excuses, eating some pasta here and some fries there, how long can I do that before I fall off the wagon and end up right back where I started from?

Okay, I think my back my seize up if I sit like this any longer. I have more I want to say but being able to walk during my vacation is probably important.

find me a river to float away on

yoyogurl — Tue, 21 Jun 2005 14:24:00 +0000

First of all, I have been meaning for days to say howdy to those of you who are actually reading this. *waves* And a big welcome to anyone who came over here because of Mo. I've done this thing on and off for a few years now but it's still strange to know that other people are reading it. It's a good thing, though, because it keeps me honest. And encouraging comments are always, uh, encouraged. :)

Now that I've got the pleasantries out of the way, let's talk about yesterday, shall we? I am in a bit of a conundrum, as the wedding that was the catalyst for this health revolution of mine is this coming Saturday. I am happy that I have come so far and that it actually shows. However, most of the things I planned to wear are a bit big. What's the point of losing the weight if I go to the wedding in something that doesn't fit?

On the other hand, it's all wearable with the assistance of creative beltage and the like. I don't really want to spend money on ~~what I hope is~~ transitional clothing unless I have to. I thought I would look anyway, as Lame Giant was having a big sale and the Old Navy is always interesting to visit. One problem I do need to tackle is the lack of shorts to wear. I've only got one pair that aren't falling of me (YAY!).

The Old Navy was first. I must give them props because they are the *only* store I could buy jeans from for a long time, as I am short and the fashion industry has decided that if you weigh as much as I do, you must be 14 feet tall. Even the petite and short sizes at most places were too long. But not at the Navy. However, no cute jeans were on sale so I didn't even grab any to try on. I did grab some short and a few t-shirts that were on sale. Being brave, I decided to go with size 16 in the shorts since the 18s I have at home are the ones that don't fit.

I took a deep breath and pulled the shorts on and...well, they buttoned, which is a victory in itself. However, um, my fat is different now. Before it was a big, solid ring around my middle, a spare tire if you will. Now it's sort of a deflated inner tube. A bit floppy and squishy, enough so that when I tried the shorts on, it was rather noticable. I guess that is a positive change. If I wear pants up under my boobs, that is. Heh. The second pair I tried on were not nearly as bad but they were stretchy and I was afrair to buy them and have *them* not fit in a few weeks. (See how cocky I am getting? *snerk*) Therefore, I skipped the Navy shorts.

I guess I should talk about the shirts, too. Again, yay for the Navy and their XXLs. Until they decided to have three different fits, that is. One day, I wandered in and grabbed an XXL and headed to the dressing room. Imagine my horror when I could barely get the damn thing over my head. The panic subsided a little when I realized I had grabbed a tiny fit. Yes, they decided that it would be more fun to have even smaller shirts! Woo! You've got your easy fit, for the "big girls", your perfect fit for the "normal" ladies and the tiny fit for those bitches that like everything skin-tight and tummies bared. Heh. Kidding! Love them! Want to be one! That's so special! From then on, only the easy fit, uh, fit. But not yesterday! Yesterday? I bought a perfect fit. I didn't even have to do that stretching thing before I put it on. You know that thing you do, where you get a shirt you think *might* fit, so when you put your arms through it, you sort of stretch it out wide so that it will be as big as possible when you put it on? Yeah, I am an expert at that. Didn't need it, don't ever want to again. I also tried on an XXL of one of their dress shirts. AND IT WAS TOO BIG! Um, mostly because my breasts have disappeared, but still. TOO BIG! In a NORMAL STORE! The mind is still reeling.

After that small triumph, I went to Lane Bryant. I have to give them a little love because there was a time when that was the only place I could buy clothes and not look like a senile grandma. But I can say with all sincerity that I look forward to the day when I never have to go there again. So, the sale. One of the horrible things about their sales is what is left. Yes, the 14-16 and then everything over 26. I never understood the point of anything being a 14 there. Why in heaven would you shop at LB if you could wear that size? Can you see where this is going? Am I being subtle enough? Anyway, they had some shorts and shirts on sale but nothing that really wowed me or was better than what was in my closet. Still, I was there so I tried on a jean skort-thing and a blouse. Again, I was feeling the high of the Old Navy experience, so I grabbed a 16 in the skort and a 14/16 in the blouse. Let's just say, I bought them both. Wearing the blouse right now. Entirely too happy with myself. Heh.

I will say that I also tried on bras and learned even more about my floppy fat and not in a fun way. Overall, the shopping was a good experience. I got to enjoy the benefits of my efforts but I was also reminded that I haven't come nearly as far as I want to.