Thanks to the Universe

Today I took another step in the right direction.

Watching what I eat and limiting my ice cream and pop intake has not been working.  It’s really hard, simple as that.  It’s really frustrating.  I know what I need to do, I know I don’t do it.  That’s the dilemma.  I have everything I need to be fulfilled, every opportunity to be happy and healthy and yet I find my life, at best, unsatisfying.  I was talking to my good friend (my husband calls her my wife since we talk so much!) and she told me a tragic story.  One of her coworkers died of a sudden heart attack at the tender age of 36 years old.  We don’t know all the details of his life other than he was married, had some kids, seemed in okay shape and was a smoker.  How sad and unfair.  Accidents happen, we can slip and fall on our head or get hit by a truck at any moment, that’s life, but cancer and heart attacks feel preventable and far off. I give them little thought but the reality is, like an accident, our bodies can give out to any number of serious health issues at anytime.  This tragedy brings to light the neglect and abuse my body endures at my own hands.  I have been given many gifts and it I am obligated to appreciate them, anything less is a slap in the face to the universe that bestowed upon me my health and wealth.

I joined Weight Watchers.  I am really excited about it.  Counting calories is a pretty complicated  business, the POINTS system of Weight Watchers feels attainable.  I went to my first meeting this morning.  I’m just learning what it’s all about and so far I am encouraged.  With the support of others in a similar situation as myself and tools to help me figure what and how to eat I can really get a good start to changing my perspective on life.

Back From the Brink...

I have been MIA for a few reason,  busyness  is one, laziness is another and intimidation is the final explanation.  The first two are self-explanatory but let me expand on the latter.  I am intimidated by the bloging process.  I want to be at my “A Game” and write good, interesting entries.  Also, I’m dying to add a link or two of some spread sheets that spell out my plans and progress.  I’m not too computer savvy and I’m puzzled as to how to update my site to have the functionality I want.  BUT this is the Shut Up and Do It site, so I am going to write today.

Budgeting and dieting and exercising have not been going as planned but I thought I would try one proactive thing.  Over the weekend I decided to tackle the huge task of cleaning out and going through everything in our spare bedroom/office.  The room has a big closet which was piled from floor to ceiling with boxes and garbage bags of clothes and pictures and everything in between.  These are things that I didn’t go through before moving to our house last year and hid the mess in the closet until I could get around to organizing.  What a great tangible metaphor for my other goals.  Now my living room is a crowded maze of belongings accumulated over years of overspending and skinny clothes and laziness.  I look at this literal mountain of things and I am sick with dread, how can I do this?  Where do I start?  How did I let it get this bad?  My baby pictures mixed with an old coffee maker, clothes mixed with shoes and earrings.  No rhyme or reason, everything was just tossed together in the haste of moving.  A haste that was the result of procrastination.  Now, over a year later I am paying for my sloth-like ways.  What a mess!!  I’m $15,000.00 in debt, what a mess!!  I’m 100lbs overweight, what a mess!!  WHAT A MESS!!  Unlike my weight or debt I cannot pretend that I don’t have a living room full of shit.  Kind of eye opening, which is why I thought it would be a good idea to take on the challenge.  There are two key components that make organization and down sizing ones possessions helpful in other areas of ones life.  First, things are there, in front of your eyes, things that can be touched.  Second, one can see their progress.  A friend came over on Sunday and lent a hand in going though some pretty big bags of clothes.  We filled about six bags that are destined for the Goodwill, 2 bags of skinny and trendy clothes that I hope to wear again one day and about 3 bags that went straight to the garbage.  Incredibly, the living is still full and there’s much work left to do.  That said, I know that at least 4 hours of work is done.  This is no easy project, there is no easy remedy, just hard work and persistence will dwindle the crap in my living room down until it is finally clear.  The idea of finishing is still daunting, it will get worse before gets better, harder before it gets easier, but it can (and must) be done!

The Diet:

I have not been doing well, I’ve completely fallen of the wagon.  I did come to one conclusion – I have no desire to count calories.  It’s true that I would, no doubt, lose weight if I ate, say, 1500 calories per day and exercised 45 minutes per day, my body would get smaller and stronger.  My body, though, is not the problem, it is my mind.  As sure as I am that I would lose weight by counting calories I know that I would gain it back.  This would not be a sustainable lifestyle for me.  I would be trading one obsession with food for another.  I am not preaching or advocating that others do as I do, I just know that it won’t work for me.  The plan remains the same, no pop, no ice cream, no Starbucks, no smoking and walk 20 minutes per day.  I will limit my portions and use the best tools known to humankind- commonsense and moderation.  Truly I believe that this is how the changes I make in my life now (if any…) will stay with me in the long term.

The Budget:

The budget is still in swing but we need to work at it a little more.  We’ll see, the end of the month is coming up soon and I will report back how much we were able to pay over the minimum payment.

Stats

DATE	CURRENT WEIGHT	WEIGHT LOSS/GAIN	TOTAL LOSS/GAIN
09/12/09	267	1	5.2
09/04/09	268	4.2	4.2
08/30/09	272.2	0	0

The Plan

I am so proud of myself today.  The Perpetual Procrastinator actually accomplished something.  A small something, but something nonetheless.  I put an allowance system into action. 

Here is the weekly break down:

$50 groceries

$20 me

$20 Paul

$20 Chichi (my puppy-wuppy)

$20 Miscellaneous (laundry detergent, paper towels, deodorant, etc.)

After Paul picked me up from work we went to the bank and made the withdrawal, then straight to the grocery store, after $44 and change and we are set until next Friday or that’s The Plan.  After the monthly bills we should have roughly $700 to put towards our credit card debt. 

What does it all mean?  Well it doesn’t mean a thing if we don’t stick to it.  Paul is all for it.  Oh, easy going, even tempered Paul will have little trouble sticking to The Plan.  His only vice is smoking, we figure he can take it out of his weekly allowance if he can’t quit.  The hope is that we can quit together.  We do everything else together, why not this?  We’ll just have to stay out of each others hair and be tolerant of loud swearing spells brought on by a picture hanging askew or the dripping of a faucet heard from the house 2 doors down. 

Food, Starbucks and Marlboro Reds are my vices.  Smoking and Starbucks give me a mini-vacation in the middle of my unbearable workday and in the evening food gives me the means to escape the memory of my unbearable workday.  And round and round it goes.  If I’m really going to give this budgeting the old college try, I have to think, think, think.  How can I change these habits that are so deeply engrained upon my soul?  Replace them with new, healthier habits?  If I need to get away from work for 10 minutes, what’s better than a cigarette?  Nothing.  But there’s got to be something, maybe not as good but good enough.  Perhaps a short walk around the block.  Downtown is a cool place and in the winter I can walk the skyways.  I’ve got to say the temperate skyways are preferable to huddling in below zero weather with not but the cherry of my cigarette to warm me.  I will bring my lunch to work, packed with a few snacks to keep me from getting so hungry that I give in to the many wonderful smells of french fries, Chinese food or pastries that drift through the streets and buildings beckoning to me, like the mythical sirens with their sweet or savory aromas, so enchanting, I go off course, follow the scent and before I know it I’m caught in a rip tide so strong I can’t fight my way back, so I crash into high priced, high calorie foods and sink.  I’ll chew gum and avert my eyes from all the smokers and try not to notice the satisfaction on their face as they find solace and comfort from inhaling the smooth, rich, mouthwatering flavor, followed by exhaling every care out of their chest and into the world.

But first I have to get through this weekend.

Dealing With Difficult People

I really need to change my mind.  I am so down on myself.  To break it down, I have a good job but the people I work with make it almost unbearable.  After a nice vacation over the 3 day weekend, the thought of going back to work sends me into a sadness I can hardly describe.  Today, for the millionth time, I was crying when Paul picked me up from work.  Nothing new, my coworker, Mildred, will not let a day go by with out trying to make me feel small and about as smart as a thumb tack.  The job itself is fine but it is very complicated.  (Please understand that I am grateful I’m employed and able to pay my mortgage and put food in my belly, it’s just that nothing is perfect.)  Not to get too far into detail about my work, here’s the short description- I process wires. There are very strict guidelines and procedures to follow and one mistake can cost the bank money.  Given that I am not a robot, I have been known to screw up.  8 months into the job (5yrs with the company) I still feel as though it’s my 1^st week and Mildred is right there to let me know that I’m not keeping up.  Mildred, or Jack (my other, slightly less intolerant coworker) may make a mistake or get behind, but for them it’s funny or they’re just having one of those days, but when I do something wrong WATCH OUT I’m “not paying attention” “careless” “oblivious” “lazy” etc. etc.  Mildred is a stunning beauty from Africa and my age, she is a favorite in the department and the Lead of my group.  Her voice is small and when she rolls her eyes or speaks to me like a special ed student, no one else notices.  There is no recourse for me here, no one would believe that Mildred is so horrible to me.  On a team of 3 people, there would be no way to remain anonymous if I were to voice my concerns, making things worse.  I haven’t felt so alienated since I was bullied in grade school.  Throughout my teens and into adulthood I’ve made friends easily and gotten along with most everyone I meet.  I’m truly at a loss as to how to deal with this.  I cannot ignore her because she has all the answers and I often need help.  Back to the beginning, I need to change my mind.  Why does she get under my skin?  Why give her the time of day in my head?  Why write about her in my blog?  Why cry at the thought of being caught in her icy glare?  Maybe I can’t stand being hated.  Maybe it’s because I can’t get away, I need her to do my job.  Whatever it is it’s not worth it to let someone determine the outcome of my day.  I would have liked to walk or do something constructive today but I was so drained and my eyes burned from all the tears and I gave in to expensive and high calorie takeout along with some cigarettes.  I can’t use her as an excuse, I don’t know that my day would have turned out any differently if she hadn’t been so exceptionally unkind.  But it certainly doesn’t help.  I feel that if I could find a purpose, something outside of work so that it doesn’t make or break my day, I would be able to separate myself from the negativity she throws my way.  That’s part of the reason for this blog, for these goals, all I have to do now is Shut Up And Do It.

Good News and Bad News

I have good news and bad news. Let’s start with a summary of each day this week and what I did and did not stick to on my list.

Monday
· No Starbucks, no pop, no ice cream
Tuesday
· No Starbucks, no pop, no ice cream
Wednesday
· No ice cream
Thursday
· n/a

I think it’s obvious from this list what the bad news is, I didn’t stick to my goals very well. For the sake of being open and honest I have to admit –I ate a lot, Thursday, for example, I had the most delicious and expensive Chipotle dinner of 3 chicken tacos topped with 3 different salsas, sour cream, shredded cheese and lettuce, chips and guacamole, and an ice cold Coca-Cola. Oh, let’s not forget the 1000 calorie pint of Ben and Jerry’s Fudge Brownie ice cream. After a meal like this I couldn’t be bothered to move from the couch. There were no walks.

How can I still be so lazy?

There are more reasons to stick to my goals of eating healthier and not eating out so frequently than losing weight and debt. Here’s a good one –I’m at work and suddenly, without warning I have to make a break for the small, 2 stall bathroom which is one of only 2 rest rooms on our floor for dozens of people. You can bet that the wonderful burning sensation experienced while indulging in the hot spiciness of 3 types of salsa will be followed by a not so wonderful burning sensation the next day. The experience is as much a relief as it is painful unless, of course, an interruption occurs. If another person enters the bathroom, I do my best to stop the chorus of sounds and smells, I’d rather do it without an audience of prying ears, so I clench up. My fists tighten, I grit my teeth and curl my toes, my entire body contorts trying to hold in what so desperately wants to get out. I wish I were the type of person who didn’t care, you know, the one who says to the world “I’m human and I have bodily functions and so do you so get off your high horse, I’m trying to do something here!”. That’s not me. If I could manage to hold my feet in the air, out of site, without losing control of my faculties, I would. What’s worse, is that after all that unpleasantness I imposed upon myself, it’s very likely that I will do it all again in the near future.

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Let me tell you a little bit about the history of my body. Growing up I always was (or at least thought I was) overweight. I’m 5 foot 9 inches tall and have been since I was 12 yrs old. My body was full grown into its frame. In other words, I was never a bean pole, my weight had no trouble keeping up with my height. Surrounded by tiny kids that came up to my shoulders and who were thin enough to thread a needle I became convinced very early on that I was big and I wasn’t supposed to be. It’s so sad to look back at pictures of myself as a kid and realize that I was not overweight, I was average. Tall and thick, not fat, I was healthy. I’m about 1/16th Irish with an Irish maiden name and that’s the heritage I always identified with. But I am 1/4th Norwegian and 1/4th German, both of which are, by nature, a sturdy people. My mother’s side of the family, the Irish side, is who I grew up with. My maternal grandmother, a mere 5 foot 2 inches, never weighed more than 104lbs and my mom, 5 foot 5 inches, at nine months pregnant weighed in at a dainty 129lbs. So where the heck did I come from? I towered over them both like Baby Huey. They ate like birds and I ate like a Renaissance king, happily devouring multiple course meals of oversized turkey legs, heaps of mashed potatoes, loafs of warm bread, tall glasses of milk (or cans of Coke) and nay a salad in sight (I didn’t like vegetables, they displeased me), all served in large wooden bowls. Mostly I ate with my hands, laughing heartily, occasionally wiping the gravy from my chin using the sleeve of my great red silk robe lined with exotic animal fur. (DISCLAIMER: this scene may be a dramatization of actual events)

My reasons for eating vary from boredom, to laziness, to avoidance, and there’s plenty of emotional baggage from a traumatic childhood that makes comfort eating my favorite thing to do besides sleeping.

In high school I hid my huge hideous body under huge hideous cloths, most of which were from the men’s department. My logic was that if I didn’t try to look small and feminine no one could accuse me of failing. Grunge was the style in the 90s, I may have been a few years behind the times, but that was nothing new.

My weight yo-yoed but the feeling of being grossly obese never left my mind. If any guy had been interested in me I wouldn’t have known it. As far as I was concerned my looks couldn’t compare with that of the anorexic blonds that filled the hallways. I didn’t date until I was 21yrs old. It’s no coincidence that I started to let guys see me naked around the same time I could legally drink massive amounts of alcohol.

Many bad decisions and a few years later I started to lose weight, a lot of weight. I was in college (got a late start with school, another story to tackle another day) and working full time. The stress of it all made it difficult to concentrate, that’s when I was introduced to my good friend Adderall. For anyone not familiar, let me clue you in, Adderall is for ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) and it’s like crack. Not terribly addictive but the weight suddenly melted away. I had no desire to eat. I was exercising at the gym fairly regularly and actually sticking to a reasonable diet but I have always suspected that my massive weight loss was exclusively the result of the medication. 225lbs down to 170lbs in about 6months.

I slimmed down and my world changed. I went from brunette to blond, I started to go to the tanning bed, I wore the most fashionable clothes, casual or dressy they were all cool (and here’s where a lot of my debt comes in, my new wardrobe was very pricey). I was getting so much attention I didn’t know how to react. Everyday my friends and coworkers commented on how great I looked, how much weight I must have lost, and asking me what was my secret. It’s true my body changed, my clothes and hair changed but my mind had stayed stubbornly the same. No I was not a blond bombshell, I was, in fact, obese. My secret? I was fat, what kind of secret could I have that would help anyone else? I could admit to myself that I had made mild progress, especially when I went shopping and could actually wear the same things as the trendy manikins in the windows but there was no way I was thin.

I didn’t really understand the negative side effects of the pills until I started dating my husband. Adderall put me in nasty irritable moods, if I was impatient before it paled in comparison to the short fuse I developed with the medication. I never noticed before Paul because I was alone so much. I realized I could be a complete bitch. Not good for our relationship, not good for me, so I kicked the prescription to the curb. Not long after, my body started to balloon. I was going on a lot of dates, eating out and cooking big meals at home. What else is there to do in the beginning of relationship than to get to know each other over a meal or 2 or 10? I started taking the pills again, then stopped, then started, then stopped and so it went until I made an executive decision that the pills were no good and I haven’t gone back. That was about 6 months ago.
At a staggering 272.4lbs (as of Sunday 8/30/2009) I am bigger than I have ever been, closer to 300lbs than 200lbs. Of course all of my cute clothes are unwearable and I’m back to trying to hide my body.

Good news -after what I have (or haven’t done) this week, I weighed myself this morning, my current weight is…268lbs. I lost 4.4lbs in four days! That’s not too shabby.

I want to change, I want to do it right, healthy and gradually. I want to make exercise a fun part of my life and say goodbye to my sedentary lifestyle. I want food to be enjoyable but not my only source of joy. I want my mind to follow my body into better health. I want financial freedom without being a slave to my financial debt. I want to live my life.

Let's be Honest

Is the first day the hardest?  Will it get easier?  I had no Starbucks, pop or ice cream.  I made it all day without a cigarette…until about five minutes ago.  No walk.

I couldn’t wake myself up this morning, I figured I would go for a stroll after work.  I forgot my lunch (peanut butter and jelly) so I had to buy something.  What to get?  I almost gave in to a venti, nonfat, extra hot, no whip mocha with a Classic Coffee Cake, but reason won.  How could I betray myself on the first day of small changes?  Instead I opted for a tuna melt, bag of chips, chocolate chip cookie and Blue Machine Naked juice.  Yeah, twelve dollars later I wondered if I might have been better off with my beloved coffee combo.  Once again, my bank account balance went down and my stomach was engorged.

When I got home I ate and ate and ate, after all, there are only a few restrictions on what I eat but not how much I eat.  It’s as if I’m trying to pull one over on someone, find a loop hole.  I’ve never liked rules or authority, apparently not even when I’m the one writing the regulations. All that food made me tired, and now we’re back to the couch instead of the park.

I almost didn’t write tonight, I didn’t want to admit that I already failed.  When I look again at my goals, I must admit that the small steps are actually pretty big ones.  I feel a sense of defeat but I’m trying to give myself some latitude and a little credit for what I did accomplish.  If I’m going to change my life for the better I need to be truthful.  I cant sneak a cigarette or skip a walk and keep myself from finding out.   I hope to learn to work with me and not hide behind my own back.

I read that success is the result of persistence not perfection.  Today only one cigarette, no pop, Starbucks or ice cream, let’s call it a semi triumph.