Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Does Fat-shaming Really Help Anyone? I'm Gonna Go With No..

Disclaimer: Some people may be put off by my use of 'fat' as opposed to euphemisms such as chubby, husky, fluffy and whathaveyou.  I use fat because it's all-encompassing and because I'd like to see it become more of a neutral descriptor and not an insult.  And because I'm not a thesaurus.

Around the interwebz there has been some mixed reactions to the campaign coming out of Georgia right now for Children's Health Care of Atlanta that features stark black and white photos of fat kids with captions about how hard it is to be a fat kid.  Some people think it's brilliant because parents need to know how terrible and difficult it is to be a fat kid, like we have no idea at all.

I have a really, really hard time with this campaign. First, because these kids may find themselves associated with these campaigns for a long long time. Kids, and hell, adults can be cruel.  How many of these kids are going to go into high school known as 'The Fat Kid Poster Kid' or something similar?

Also, and I'm probably going to get crucified, but being obese isn't a problem in and of itself.  It's the issues related to (related to, not necessarily caused by) that are the problem.  Problems like Type 2 Diabetes and high cholesterol, which are related to shitty eating habits and lack of activity.  Two things that are also correlated with being obese.

Obesity?  Not the problem.  Shitty eating habits and lack of activity in kids?  Yes.  That is a problem.  Let's put it this way - let's say your kid is fat. So you take them to the doctor.  If you take your kid to the doctor and checks all their vitals and blood sugar and cholesterol and blood pressure and all that stuff and everything is fine, and you know they eat plenty of good food, fruits, veggies etc. and that they are active, then they are healthy.  And that is good.

So give a kid a break.

All you can tell by looking at someone is if they are overweight.  You can't tell someone's health by looking at them. You cannot tell if they lack activity or have shitty eating habits.  You can't tell if they have high cholesterol, or blood sugar, or a glandular issue that is actually causing weight gain (because yes, sometimes poor health causes obesity, rather than vice versa).

Which leads me to my main issue with this campaign. This campaign seems to rely on shaming kids and shaming parents and if anything, puts kids at risk of eating disorders later in life, which is going to be way worse for their health in the long run. All it seems to do is point out that being a fat kid sucks.

NO KIDDING.  Really? I thought it was a freaking amusement park ride.  (You know one of the things that makes being a fat kid suck?  Public shaming and ridicule. Oh, and restrictive diets. Those suck too).  The health issues are something to worry about, yes.. but we can focus on health issues without body-shamign little kids.  Do fat kids get bullied?  Oh, hells yes, many of them do.  That's an issue, however, that I think is better resolved by teaching kids not to be jerks, and not teaching kids that fat people are to be an object of shame and ridicule.

What the Children's Health of Atlanta campaign DOESN'T do is offer any suggestions as to how to deal with childhood obesity, other than to get all Mrs Lovejoy and shake a finger at parents as if to say "Stop letting your kids be such fatty-fat-fat's."

Instead of a campaign pointing out how awful it must be to be a fatty-fatty-fat-fat how about we have more programs dedicated to pointing out how awesome and fun being active is.. regardless of whether it makes you lose weight?

How about some initiatives to make healthy food more accessible and reduce the number of food deserts in low income areas?

How about we encourage more community cohesion so that kids can go outside and play like they used to, instead of constantly reminding people through the media that if they dare let their kids out of their sight for more than 2 minutes they will die or get kidnapped or molested?

How about we put more pressure on school boards to cap salaries for admins making over 100K a year, so that programs such as Physical Education are at less risk of being cut?

How about a cost-of-living increase for minimum wage so that people aren’t forced to work ridiculous hours at 2-3 part time jobs just so they can put cheap, processed food on the table because it’s the only shit they A) can afford and B) have the bloody time to make.

There's got to be about a million ideas that would be better for combating childhood obesity or the associated risks than billboards saying “Your kid is fat, and that’s bad.”

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Hate How Much I Love You, Food

This is sort of like the Rihanna-Chris Brown relationship...without the physical abuse and bad lip-synching (Chris, not Rihanna). 

I love food.  When I say "love" I don't mean I have affectionate feelings for it.  No, indeed.  I LOVE food.  We're talking "love" as in how much Rose should have loved Jack in Titanic (I still maintain that if she had really loved him she would have made room for him on that big door.)  I'm talking Wesley and Buttercup.  I. Love. Food.

I also hate food.  I hate food the way Mrs. Hannigan hates orphans.  The way the bad guys on Scooby Doo always hated those meddling kids.  

I know love/hate relationships aren't good for you, but I'm pretty sure most people have similar feelings about some type of food.  Whether it's sweets, caffeinated drinks, dairy products.  We all have our vice(s).  I added the (s) there because I have multiple vices. 

I'm doing well on my healthy lifestyle changes (excluding the two week hiatus which I'm still blaming on Mardi Gras), but I have found that there are some foods that no matter how bad they are for me, I still love them.  I give them evil looks when I see them, yet there's longing behind the scorn.  It's like those dudes in Brokeback Mountain.  "I wish I could quit you!" 

Man, I'm doing a lot of Hollywood references today.  Forgive me.

So, in the spirit of hating to love foods, I figured I'd share with y'all some of my most beloved (and hated) foods:

I've mentioned this vice more than once.  I love me some cheesy Dorito goodness.  It's ridiculous, really, how much I love Doritos.  I swear there's cocaine mixed in with the cheesy powder. 

Basically anything with cheese in it is a vice of mine.  Cheddar cheese, cream cheese, mozarella cheese, colby jack.  You name it, I love it.  What's even better than cheese?

Bread with cheese
aka pizza. Or cheesy breadsticks.  Oh. Em. Gee.  I could eat my weight in cheesy bread.  (Note:  I never have, but I could.)

I'm not a huge chocolate fanatic.  I can go weeks, even months without chocolate.  That being said, if I do cave in and have one teensy tiny little piece of milk chocolate, it's Chocolatepalooza with me.  It opens the chocolate cravings floodgates, and that's all I want to eat.  I don't know what's up with that.  I've always kept my distance from chocolate for this very reason.  Again, I think there's cocaine in the chocolate.  (Am I turning into a conspiracy theorist?)

Ranch Dressing
I don't know about you people, but ranch dressing has always been more than just salad topping for me.  I can dip a multitude of foods into ranch.  Carrots (haha), pretzels, bread, crackers, potato chips (not Doritos), pizza.  Basically any food can go into ranch and come out tasting better.  This is why with my lifestyle change I've had to cut ranch almost completely out of my food options.  I use every other kind of salad dressing because it's always a little bit of salad with my ranch.  With the other dressings I can just put the bare minimum and have a healthy salad. 

So those are the biggest love/hates I have with food.  These are the foods most likely to contribute to any failures I may have on this journey.  I have realized that I can allow myself to have a little bit of this, a little bit of that, sporadically throughout my meals.  With these foods though, I have to be on high guard because a little bit of these foods is never enough for me.  They are bandwagon abandoning aids. 

What foods are your biggest vices? Do any of you guys struggle with any specific foods? 

Monday, February 27, 2012

And the Winner Is...

The award for best effort at not gorging on snack food goes to...

Yesterday was supposed to be a jam-packed day for me TV/Internet-wise. I love NASCAR. There I said it. Shut up. So the Daytona 500 was scheduled for yesterday, but due to rain, no dice. Then there was of course, The Oscars which always manages to make me feel like a beached whale, jealously admiring the fit figures of the celebs. This year was no exception. Also, the Bloggies winners were announced and because I'm with Band Back Together, I was nervously awaiting to see if we won any of our three nominated categories. We did not. Next year, Bandmates!

Between these three events that I adore no matter how much people put them down, I expected to sit on the couch and eat... and eat... and eat. What?? Look I realize I have been not doing the best with this whole weight loss thing, but sometimes there are certain events that just go with food. Let's take them one at a time shall we?

The Great American Race. Image from
1. The Daytona 500: NASCAR y'all. I've only been a fan since I met the husband back in 2008. He's a big fan so like the awesome chick I am, I learned about it so that I wouldn't end up being a NASCAR widow during the races. I wholly expected to hate it, but I cannot get enough of the speed! The rivalries, the crashes, the roar of the engines... I love it! I did really well at the grocery store and only purchased some peanuts instead of the potato chips and nacho fixin's I was secretly craving. Not too shabby right? High five!

Maybe next year.

2. The Bloggies: This is my first year as a blogger (I started in December 2011) and my personal blog wasn't a final nominee for any Bloggies (dammit!) but I'm with The Band and so I was nominated as a member of Band Back Together in three categories. Woohoo! I had forgotten that the winners were being announced yesterday, so I dodged the nervous eating bullet by not buying anything to nosh on while anxiously awaiting our fate. Sort of...

One day I'm gonna take you home with me, Golden Boy.

3. The Oscars: If ever a TV program could bring up every single body issue I have or have ever had, it is  The Academy Awards. Hey gorgeous celebrities? Yeah you look fabulous. Meanwhile, I'm on the couch in my coffee stained nightgown and mismatched teddy bear pajama pants eating half a pint of Starbuck's coffee ice cream with Hershey's syrup. Ugh. Okay so it's not their fault that I'm in this pitiful position, but if I don't blame them and their perfectly toned bodies, I would have to blame myself and I'm not gonna do that. Maybe I will tomorrow, but not today.

Hello, old friend.

So as you can see, I could have done worse. I could have done a lot better and not eaten the delectable frozen treat, but plain coffee ice cream and chocolate syrup isn't that bad. I promise you this darlings, this week I'll not have the frosty treat... because I already ate it all.

Despite that slip up, I have lost a pound so yay me! We're all winners for various reasons today, but the best reason is because we haven't stopped trying. Congratulations to everyone (including me) for not giving up!

Friday, February 24, 2012


I had a good week this week. For the first time in a long time I stuck to my diet. Since I'm primarily counting calories using the Lose It! app on my Nook I plug in every thing I consume all day long. This is a challenge when I'm cooking at home when I have to look up calories in everything- but who wants to consume prepackaged food all the time? Not me. So while I may have had a couple of red velvet cupcakes this week (I baked them for my bff's birthday) I never went over my caloric intake! I'll miss a morning and afternoon snack if it means a cupcake in the evening. 
Image from

Why aren't all weeks like this? I've been incredibly stressed out the past couple of weeks with my family drama (being a parent to your parents is exhausting) and that makes it hard to find the will power to stick to my guns. When all my energy is focused on jobs and lack of jobs and attorney's and the possibility of taking in my younger sister it's been hard to find the energy to, well... basically to give a damn what I was eating (and that's not including my own personal issues, that's just dealing with my parents).

All of that has been resolved, for the most part, as of Wednesday, so I'm breathing so much easier now. And I have this new resolve in me and so much more energy to focus on myself. I don't want to be this way, but it's time for me to become selfish and focus on myself. I know that's not a bad thing, but I have to leave everyone else's issues alone and just handle me. Right now, for my sake, I can't take on more than me and my husband. 

It took a while for me to realize that mental energy is what kept me on track on my diet. When I'm just mentally exhausted so is my resolve. It goes hand in hand for me. Which, I guess, isn't really enlightening. I'm sure most people know that, and I knew it in theory but the past few weeks is what made me realize it in reality. 

Fingers are crossed that the next week is smooth sailing for me. With a trip to my grandmother's planned for the morning and goyza and rice a certainity for lunch, tomorrow is definitely going to be my cheat day. And no, I will not pass up my grandmother's home made goyza. 
Goyza. It's not a potsticker. It IS delicious.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

The body that isn't yours

When I first started this weight loss journey, I realized something. I realized that I liked to compare myself and my body to other women in popular culture. I aspired to have a body like theirs.

"If only I could look like....." is what I always said to myself. Who did I want to look like? I'll show you.

This is Lita and she was my body idol.

If none of you know who Lita is, don't worry. I'm a huge wrestling fan and not much into Hollywood type of beauty. I wanted to look like Lita in the worst way for a really long time.

As you can see, Lita is gorgeous. And athletic. Just like me! (or so I said to myself) I wanted to have a body like hers. I'd put posters up in my room of her and circle all the things on her body that I wanted. Which sounds rather unhealthy and stalkerish, but it's true.

In a way, there's nothing wrong with admiring the physical beauty of another person. But how far is too far? I think the moment when you start wishing to be someone else is when you have a problem. Why do you spend so much time and energy wanting to be someone else when YOU are already fabulous the way you were made?

I've always been aware of my body, and always put down some part of it. My huge boobs. My massive thighs. My hands. (They can palm a basketball for pete's sake). Even my hair wasn't safe from my negativity. It was always put downs first and compliments last.

I remember going to a wedding once when I was still overweight and I dressed to the nines. Dresses, high heels and makeup. And I HATED it. I like to be comfy and cozy 24/7, and skirts and heels and dressing up are not my idea of that. As we got to the reception, there were some friends of the bride that were hanging around outside on the patio and one of them came and said hi to me.

"I just love your dress and your shoes are to die for." She said. "I wish I was as pretty as you are."

What did I do? Squirmed and stammered a thank you like an idiot. I honestly had no idea how to accept the compliment because I never thought of myself as someone worthy of being thought of as pretty.

As I've grown older and started this whole crazy diet idea, I realized that in order for me to lose the weight and keep it off, I had to love and accept my body the way it was. I can't afford major surgery and lots of dietary supplements to have a body like Lita. Plus I'd need to have breast implants. I don't need those. Trust me.

In my very first post here, I described how much I hated looking at myself in the mirror, and would hate analyze everything about myself. Well, in a reverse from that, I've practiced looking in the mirror and giving myself compliments.

"Wow, B. The boobies are rockin today!" (Yes, that is a compliment.)
"B, you have a beautiful smile and cute dimples."
"B, you have thighs that could crack a walnut. Stong and lovely" ( I do love my thighs now guys. Truly)
"When hubby smacks my ass, it is firm and not so wiggly anymore. Keep working out and don't stop!"

Are we all on the same page? Excellent.

If you want your body to be better, start by having a more realistic outlook about yourself. Tell yourself that you're beautiful and that you want to work out to feel better. Focus on the better part of you and not the things that you hate. Learn to love yourself before everyone else. Be your own body idol.

Be the beautiful YOU. Not the beautiful someone else. Body idols are lame anyway.

Until next time.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Distractions, distractions.

So, I has a little secret.

Okay, not a secret per se, but I'm not one to advertise my personal life (this is where you, the reader, go "wait.. Aren't you a blogger?"). Seriously though, I tend to keep my mouth shut and keyboard quiet when it comes to the love life. But yeah, I've been seeing someone. And it's been good, and continues to be good.  For the sake of considering the privacy of others, I'll leave it at that.

I will, however, say that it's been distracting. Sometimes in a good way. On one hand, I've been absolutely negligent in my tracking and weighing in. Terribly, terribly negligent.. I logged onto my MyFitnessPal account for the first time in about a week this past Monday. My bi-weekly Just Dance dates have been sporadic and I'm pretty sure that's mostly my fault.

However when I weighed in on Monday, I was down 0.8 lbs from my last weigh-in. So that's good. The upside, weight-loss wise, has been less opportunities for boredom eating, especially as I don't tend to snack as much when there are people around.  And more.. Um.. How to put this delicately? More activity.

*whistles nonchalantly*

Where were we?  Right.

I've been told of a phenomenon that sometimes occurs with people in new relationships.. it's called Happy Fat™.  Sometimes caused by an uptick of dinners out, an increase of niceties like wine.. (dear God, the wine..)
In case you haven't picked up on this.
...and a greater sense of not giving a shit because, hell, life is good so let's enjoy it and I'm not going to beat myself up over an extra treat here or there and who am I to turn down this lovely meal that has been made for me? I'm glad that said person in question is aware of my efforts and takes this into consideration when being so considerate.  This may be one of the reasons I have not, thus far, fallen into the Happy Fat™ trap, along with the lack of boredom eating and well.. *koff*

So I'm trying to make a point of tracking as I should and even if I end up saying "Screw it!" by the end of the day, I'll wake up and try again.

For me.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Mardi Gras. That bitch.

So it's Carnival season here in the South, aka Lasseiz les bon temps rouler ("let the good times roll").  And boy, did I ever...

It seems all of us girls here at Different Paths, Same Destination have been struggling on the path to healthier, lighter selves lately.  I know I have.  With psycho in-laws, school, husband and kids to deal with, it's all I can do to refrain from comfort-eating my way through every bag of Doritos in my local Dollar Store.  With sour cream.  (Just so y'all know, I haven't done that.  Yet.)

During Carnival, or Mardi Gras for the non-Cajun folk, there is a period of three weeks consisting of a continuous flow of parades, Mardi Gras balls, good food  and all around immoral behavior.  Most of the debauchery takes place on Bourbon Street, but it does occur elsewhere should the mood strike. 
Yes, it really gets that packed.  Oogie. Grab hands everywhere.
So, whilst parading and enjoying the frivolous joys of the holiday, I hit the big red PAUSE button on the food regulation and just ate every.frickin.thing.  King cake (with cream cheese), stuffed crab, stuffed shrimp, fried shrimp, fried oysters, fried catfish, crawfish etouffee, french fries and poboys.  Not all in one day, but over about five.  Still.  That's a ton of bad (but OH SO GOOD) food. 

I haven't stepped on my scale in over a week.  I don't even acknowledge it when I walk through my bathroom.  Nope.  Giving her the cold shoulder right now.  Partially I'm afraid to see how much damage this Catholic excuse for a holiday has caused.  Mostly, though, I just feel like procrastinating with it for another day.  Or two.  

Maybe I can treat it like lent, and after today, Fat Tuesday (how appropriate, right?), start anew on my goals tomorrow, on Ash Wednesday.  Like I'm giving up fat for lent.  HAHA.  I'm not even Catholic, but that sounds fantastic.  

Who's with me?

Monday, February 20, 2012

Apples, Peanut Butter and Tastykakes

This, my friends, is my emotional roller coaster.
I had a rough week. It seems like I've been saying that a lot lately doesn't it? Well, this past week had some really high highs and some really low lows. Highs were

  • A brand new tattoo that serves as a reminder to appreciate the small joys in life.
  • TV journalist, Josh Mankiewicz of Dateline NBC reading and passing on my blog to others on Twitter. I was/am thrilled about this one. Yippee!
  • Gaining some new readers because of Mr. Mankewicz. That is really the cherry on top. New readers and new friends. 
  • Purchasing 50 Horror Classics for $14.99 at Best Buy. So what if a lot of the movies are not the greatest! I adore a good B-movie even if it's a bad B-movie. Ha! It has a lot of really good ones in it too. These are all from the '20s-'60s, I believe. LOVE.

And then there were the lows:

  • A trip to the e.r. the same day I got the tattoo. It was awful. Dizziness, headache, nausea, inner leg pain (this is where I previously had a DVT). I was scared because of my blood disorder that I had another blood clot. I didn't. Everything is fine now, but I was terrified at the time. It was an atypical migraine, which surprised the hell out of me because I've been getting migraines for upwards of 20 years and they never felt like that. I guess that's where the atypical part comes in huh?
  • Depression followed closely by, you guessed it, poor eating choices. Ugh. 
She was similar to this one. I shall name her Carmen. Why not? Photo from
Dammit! I so want to do well with my eating habits, not only for my own pig face, but for you. I don't want to let anyone down or disappoint any of you. That fucking cupcake. Why does she (no idea why the cake is a she, but in my mind she is) have to call to me in that sexy voice? "Mrs. One Day? Don't I look scrumptious tonight? Look at how my chocolate frosting swirls around the top of my moist, fudgey cake body. You want me. I want you. Let's do this." How the hell am I supposed to resist a leftover cupcake I've named Carmen, with a pickup line like that? 

Well hello there, Miss Krimpet.
Then the husband, who is from Delaware, found out that Tastykakes are now available here in Wichita. This was so exciting...for him. I know that he loves Tastykakes and missed having them when he moved away from the East Coast. What do I do, not let him bring them in the house? He doesn't have an ounce to lose. If anything, he could stand to gain a couple of lbs. So we went to our local Wal-Mart, the only place that sells them here right now and that also occupies a special corner in the depths of hell, and picked up these heavenly little pastries. Butterscotch Krimpets (because they were out of something called, Kandy Kakes?) they are called. Come on! Stop eyeballing me, Miss Krimpet. "But you know you want my lusciousness in your mouth, Mrs. One Day. You can't resist my sweet, creamy, butterscotch icing and fluffy cake. I'm stronger than you, human!" Grrr! She  was right. I gobbled her up and felt a wide variety of emotions afterward.

I was so very happy because she was so fucking delicious. I was also guilty, sad, angry, elated, deflated, (still) hungry, horny, and oddly apathetic. I guess the moral of the story is emotional eating is a real thing. A real bitch of a lady that can come in the form of depression and Tastykakes. How do you get past emotional eating? Beats the fuck out of me. If I knew that, Carmen and Miss Krimpet wouldn't have been shoved into my mouth like it was my last meal on earth.

Photo from
The good news is that today I've started anew. An apple and peanut butter for breakfast and I'll have my usual pineapple for lunch. For dinner we're having chicken that is not even fried! Wow! Stick with me, kids. I'm doing the best I can and I know you are too. 

Oh and if you see Miss Krimpet and/or Carmen, tell them I said to go to hell. Never mind, I may want them to visit at a later date. Hehe.

Friday, February 17, 2012

Evil Scouts

Hi everyone! It's Jess again and today... I am a little hostile towards little girls in green (and brown too, you Brownie's are all evil too!). 

Do you all know what time of year it is? It's Girl Scout Cookie time bitches!! It's time for Samoas and Tagalongs and Do-Si-Dos!! Unless... you're on a diet. In which case you make it a point to run anytime a smiling mother/father approaches you in the office with a colorful order form in their hands. Like a serious run, like the zombie version of your ex-bf/gf is after you. I avoided those order forms LIKE A BOSS. Then it happened. 

The shipments all came in. Cookies were readily available and even though you were good and didn't preorder any, you're now being assaulted by them everywhere you go. When you go to the grocery store and you see the table out front with the fresh faces of these little girls who you know are actually Satan's little spawns and they're going to attack you and force you to purchase delicious cookies you immediately turn the car around and go back home to wait until after sun down- because surely they have to be home before the lamp posts come on right? 

Then at work... I'm surrounded by co-workers with boxes and boxes on their desks. Usually they'd be hoarding them like they were full of diamonds, but since they all know you're dieting they figure they'll ask you to be polite since they know you'll decline. THOSE BASTARDS!! Even though I'm ever so sorely tempted to be like "Don't mind if I do" and down the entire box in front of their astonished faces. 

So far, I have declined. I haven't had one delicious bite of a Girl Scout Cookie. This has been hard. This has been difficult. 

Resisting bad foods has become ever more increasingly difficult for me because there's a lot of personal issues I'm going through. Family be crazy yo. So yes, I have indulged more frequently than I have in a while. I did have Chinese for dinner Valentine's night and I am going out to a fancy Italian dinner tonight. And yep, I even ate a bowl of that red velvet ice cream last night while watching my Matthew and Cillian together on the screen (RAWR). 

It seems like the stressful things that spring up in your life are made even more stressful when you don't have the comfort of food to take the edge off. That's where a big problem of mine is actually. Associating comfort with food. I'm not sure when it began and I'm leaning towards believing it's always been there. Some people when they are depressed or stressed out lose weight because they lose their appetites. I'm the opposite of that. 

I'm wondering if that's something I should consider counseling for actually. Try to figure out why I associate food that way and then see if I can unlearn it. Who knows though really? It may not even matter really the "why". I know it, I'm aware of it, so I should get the will-power to stop it myself. 

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Not only did I fall off the wagon, I tumbled off.

B here. *waves hi*

I apologize from my prolonged absence from this blog, but I've had one helluva two weeks.

First, my job temporarily blocked blogger. You see, I do most of my commenting/blog searching/writing at my job. When blogger was taken from me about 2 Sundays ago, I had to scramble to switch my schedule around to make it possible to write again. And, even worse, I had nothing prepared in advance, so I had to skip out on my writing day. Thankfully, my girl JJ stepped in for me with some very encouraging words that hit me right in the solarplexis. If you'd like to read that again, go here.

Now, the title of this post says that I tumbled off the wagon. And I did. I intended to stay on my **** (not calling it the D word anymore. It's a dirty word) but stress and fate stepped all up in the way. For a few days on that week thanks to a series of unfortunate events besides the block, I began to sink into a deep depression.

I get that pesky feeling of immobility and sadness sometimes during the winter months, but this was the most severe it's been in awhile. I couldn't even muster up the strength to get out of bed and focus on anything. Everything went by the wayside. My blogging, my reading, the exercise, and of course, that pesky D word. I consumed so much junk food the past few weeks I'm embarrassed to admit it. It's like I had no self control. Thankfully, I somehow recovered from it before it was too late. How?

Well, I remembered something that my pal Yandie told me in an e-mail a few weeks before the depression hit that distracting yourself from the sads is the best way not to sabotage yourself. So, I wrote here about my true and honest feelings. And so many of my regular readers stepped up with their own stories of feeling trapped and unhappy at times and offered me some very encouraging words. And it made me feel better. I still ate the junk food, but I didn't beat myself up for it. I just kept track of what I was doing. The fat and extra calories weren't good, but at least I wasn't blindly shoving food in my mouth like I normally do when I feel this way. And you know what? It passed. The bad feelings passed and I started to feel better.

In essence, what do you do when you feel like shit about yourself and guilty about what you've done? Write it out. Talk it out. Be honest and tell someone how you feel. It's the only way to beat the bad feelings and take stock of what's bothering you. Which sounds like obvious advice, but I've always preferred to make a big comfy tent around myself and my emotions.

Source: via LD on Pinterest

I shouldn't do the whole tent thing. It's something I'm working on. Trust me.

I always want to be super woman, but I have to remind myself that I'm human. I cannot trap myself in a glass case of emotion. I have to be honest with myself and my feelings first and foremost, otherwise I sabotage myself. I have to remember that it's not just me in my little world. Someone is always a phone call, e-mail or text message away with an open ear. USE IT, B. Use it.

If you're feeling bad about something, say or do something about it. And if you must gulp down junk food, think about what you're doing before you do it. And always keep track of stuff. I'm learning so much about what to and not to eat by just putting it in my weight loss app on my phone.

I'd also like to thank the other girls on this blog for the advice, venting and the laughs. We were friends before I begged politely and graciously asked for them to write here, and I'm sure that in some way or fashion, these gals will be in my life for a long time to come. Thanks you Yandie, Mrs One, JJ, Red and Bea for understanding me and helping me get over the sads the past few weeks. I really needed the distraction.

As for the ****, I'll be starting over again from scratch. There's healthy stuff in the fridge and no excuse to go off the wagon again. :-)

That's it for this week. I'll be posting on Thursdays from here on in, so I'll see you then.

Until next time.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

My Thighs Hate Me Today

Hoo boy.

So, I was sick last week, so Monday night marked my first night back at kick-boxing in over a week.  I am paying for it now.  My thighs are still screaming at me today.  Our instructor, a fun and enthusiastic woman with what I suspect is a vaguely sadistic streak, had us doing all manner of high kicks and lunges.  Freakin' lunges.  And I get to go back tonight.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm in pain, but I love it.  Years ago, I couldn't have done what I do now.

Back when I started on the first leg of my journey, I realized that to get this to work I was going to have to, you know.. get active.  I've never been real fond of that whole moving around and being active thing, having always been drawn to more sedentary pursuits such as reading, tv watching and sleep.

I started slow.  I'd take walks everyday on my break.  I'd park at the far end of the parking when I shopped.  I took the stairs in my apartment building, especially on laundry day.  Four or five trips up and down a flight of stairs carrying a hamper definitely felt like a workout.

Walking gets boring, so I decided I needed to up the ante.  I had joined gyms in the past but always found them boring.  I needed something that didn't feel like work.. something I could do that would be fun but also force me to be active.

I joined a women's softball team.  This year will mark my fifth season.

Later I took 3-4 months of belly-dancing lessons.  Unfortunately, they are no longer offered in the area as my instructor had to give up teaching due to a slipped disc.  Sad.  I enjoyed the dance class because it taught me a lot about how my own body moves and taught me that, various imperfections and all, my body is sexy and can move with grace.  I used to come home from those classes feeling very sensual and relaxed and kind of in lust with myself.

Roughly a year and a half ago, wanting something more challenging, I went to a kick-boxing open house.  The first class killed me, but I felt like such a bad-ass that I scrounged the money together and signed up for a three month course.  The first few weeks, dead in the middle of July, were rough.  I whined and bitched and moaned through each class and limped my way up the stairs to work the next day.  But I kept going back.

When I started, I could struggle my way through maybe 5-6 from-the-knee push-ups.  Since then I have done thousands upon thousands of push-ups (or so it seems!).  I've gone from being close to tears after 20 crunches, to being able (with great effort) to struggle through close to fifty straight push-ups.  I've also learned I can take a round-house kick to the face and not cry.  And I can punch, kick and spin my way through a 20-move combination barely missing a beat.

I've learned to appreciate how it feels to sweat, to work my body to its limit.  So I'll go tonight, even though my muscles are still cursing me, and I'll bitch, and moan and shoot Jill dirty looks when she calls out "15 Burpees!" with a smile.  And I'll come home tired but feeling good that I haven't given up.  It still has to be fun, though.  If I'm not having fun, I can't be arsed to take the pain (and by pain I mean the good pain...I don't want to injure myself).  If you're struggling for a way to be more active, find your fun and as you progress you may want to try new things.  Being active doesn't need to be work, and if it doesn't feel like work, you may be more inclined to stick with it.

I'm all Chuck Norris n' shit.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

What's good for the goose...

(In this case, the goose would be my father.  Also, I'm using this phrase in a positive manner.)

I mentioned previously that my father was recently diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes (which runs in my family, along with heart disease.  Super.) and began making small but significant changes to his lifestyle.  He was diagnosed 6 weeks ago and has only needed to take insulin twice - both times in the first week.  He is following his new eating plan perfectly, and has lost 12 pounds - though he was only about 15 pounds overweight to begin with.  I'm so proud of his determination and success thus far with taking care of himself. 

We spoke for an hour this morning about his daily eating plan, what types of food he can have, and how he cooks it.  After a while he commented that his new food lifestyle (he also refuses to refer to it as a diet, because it's a permanent change) is surprisingly very similar to the famous South Beach Diet.  He said he often feels very full and sometimes feels like he has to make himself eat when it's time to eat again.  I find this interesting.  To think one could lose weight eating good food at designated times and be FULL ALL DAY LONG?  Inconceivable! (I can't say that word without having Princess Bride flashbacks. Anyone else have that problem?)

I have never paid much attention to the South Beach Diet, or any other weight loss fad that has been mentioned.  I did the Atkins diet before doctors realized it isn't all that healthy for you.  I don't like Weight Watchers, can't afford NutraSystem and with my thyroid disorder am banned from taking any form of weight loss pills.   So I've always just let the diet fads pass in one ear and out the other.  However, after hearing this from my dad, I went online and read up on this diet.  It was created by a cardiologist, and is GUARANTEED (I am always suspicious of that word) to make you lose weight quickly and permanently. 

Now, the plan I've been following, which we'll call The Fantabulous Fat Loss Extravaganza, has been pretty effective thus far.  The problem I'm having, which is common about two months in, is that I'm starting to get a bit bored with it.  The only meat I've eaten is chicken breasts, tilapia and salmon - all grilled.  I've had a bajillion salads.  Don't get me wrong, I love chicken breasts and fish, and I could eat a salad every day even pre-weight loss challenge.  I just worry that I will reach a point when I am no longer creative and start slipping just to have some change.   

I'm wondering if I should buy the South Beach Diet book, read up on it and start implementing it into my weight loss plan.  After all, it's guaranteed....

Have any of you guys tried South Beach?  If so, did you find it effective, or difficult to keep up with?  I want any and all advice - positive and negative.  Also, what are your opinions on this type of weight loss plan?

P.S. Happy Lovers Day, all of you lovely, kissable, huggable cutie pies! <3

Monday, February 13, 2012

Celebrate Good Times...With (A Little) Chocolate!

I'll take these!
Valentine's Day. I wrote about the 5 things I hate about it over on my personal blog and I'll also be writing about the 5 things I love about it. I figured that I would stay with the Valentine's Day theme over here as well.

Let's face it, folks. Holidays of any kind can be real diet killers. Valentine's Day with all your chocolatey goodness. You are a weight battler's arch nemesis. I am no exception. The husband and I decided to forego the Valentine's Day dinner chaos this year and go out on Saturday instead. This is always tricky. They try to lure you with their dinner-for-two specials and all that stuff. And you all know how well I do eating out on a regular night for Pete's sake!

I shall name him, Giuseppe!
We settled on an Italian spot we hadn't been to before. We had read good things about it online and all that jazz so we gave it a shot. First of all, it was crowded but we didn't have to wait to get a table at all. We did, however sit at our table for a very long time waiting for a server to acknowledge our presence. I fucking hate bad service, don't you? Ugh. Secondly, I had decided on sausage manicotti (it was pretty mediocre which pisses me off. If I'm gonna waste some calories, it better taste good), which is really decadent I know, but hey...I had a choice of 1 or 2 and I went for 1. Damn straight! Of course, I screwed myself because of the bread. Oh how I love you, garlicky, buttery, yeasty wonder! Way to go, Mrs. One Day. Way to go.  I did actually end the meal on a high note, y'all. I didn't order any freaking dessert! Yes! So, all-in-all I'd call it a success. It could have been a whole lot worse, right? Right?

I'll take a couple...dozen!
I'm allowing myself a treat on Tuesday as well. Should I be doing that? Probably not, but I think it was in the Bible or something that we eat chocolate on Valentine's Day. No? Shut up. In my Bible it does. So, as all of you who are part of a couple celebrate this lovey-dovey holiday, remember this...a little chocolate (I said a little!) in your life isn't gonna kill ya and if you eat a little (I said a little...again!) dark chocolate it's even good for you. If you aren't part of a couple and/or won't be celebrating Valentine's Day this year...have the damn chocolate anyway because I said it was okay.  Ha!

Happy Valentine's Day, y'all!

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Just Under The Wire

I totally almost forgot about this.

Where I Left Off:

July - I've just been diagnosed with pnuemonia.

I was off work for a week and once I actually took the time to rest and was on an antibiotic, the pneumonia cleared up relatively quickly. It's amazing what an antibiotic can do.

Once my pneumonia was cleared up I noticed that I was still having stomach issues. I went back to my doctor who ordered more tests. We are now into August and I can't get a stomach ultrasound until OCTOBER. But in the interim, the doctor puts me on medication for my stomach.

I continue with the life changes: no aspartame, no fast food and no facebook games.

I also make an appointment with a nutritionist. She's not a normal nutritionist. She's a holistic nutritionist and she deals with the whole body.

There is a giant questionnaire to fill out. I had originally picked up the questionnaire in March of 2010 and paid a $50.00 deposit but never followed through on it because I just wasn't ready.

Then, I called her in August and she informed me that she wasn't taking any more patients. I told her that I already had the questionnaire and had paid the $50.00 and had my receipt  so she said I could come in. I was so happy because this woman quite literally has saved my life.

My appointment with her was mid-September.

The appointment was quite traumatic.  She was putting me on a very strict diet to help me with all the problems that I was having: No sugar. No wheat. No dairy. No potatoes. No processed/cured meats. No pork. No cantaloupe. No melons. No strawberries. No nuts unless they were raw. No beans. No lentils. No chick peas. No aspartame. No splenda. No peanuts. No fried foods. No coffee. No tea.

No fucking fun.

Friday, February 10, 2012

What's good to you usually isn't good for you.

Baking and Thursdays. 

Two things that seem like they should be completely harmless. They are not. 

One of my great passions in life is baking. There is nothing I like more than finding a new recipe and then turning all these completely different things like eggs, flour, baking powder into a delicious treat.  This in self would appear to people to be detrimental to someone that is trying to lose weight. The good thing, I don't actually nibble on my treats themselves. Sure I'll have one or two over a span of, according to my hubby, way too long. Not that my treats aren't delicious, they are, but I'm not big on the sweets. I'll destroy a steak, but cake will go forever without me laying a finger in it. There is a problem though. I have a batter weakness. A finger dip here, and lick there- and before I know it I've consumed way too many calories. 

That's why I'm so proud of myself right now. I made, from scratch, chocolate cupcakes with fresh (pureed it myself) strawberry butter-cream frosting without dipping my finger in the batter at all. Not even once! And btw- I'm making these now because tomorrow is one of my friends last day at work. She's moving across the state and we're having a goodbye potluck for her.

At the same time I'm disappointed in myself. Let me tell you why.

Thursday's are my special night. My hubby goes out and plays trivia and I stay in and watch Matthew MacFayden on Netflix. This weeks feature: Maybe, Baby followed up by some MI-5. Matthew is barely in the movie and he's got atrocious blond hair in it, but I digress. During these nights while I'm watching Matthew I order Chinese and have them deliver it. Tonight I ate 2 egg rolls. Two. Deux. I don't even wanna talk about the beef and broccoli.  Saturday is the day I allow myself to be naughty. Today is definitely not Saturday and yet here I am. Being naughty. Le sigh.

I'm not going to freak out and punish myself, however, I have to be good on Saturday now and that's going to make for a long weekend. Trail and error. Life is an on-going process.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Eating Out is a Bitch

Weekends are a double-edged sword. What I mean by that is, of course I love the weekends because it means that the husband is off from work and we can hang out and do what married couples normally do. For example: Trying new restaurants. Yeah. You guessed it! This is where the sucky side of the sword comes in.

I love, love, love eating out. It's such a cool thing to be served, isn't it? They do all the work and you just sit there and enjoy what they've created on your plate. I was a server for a short time. I am also without a doubt the worst server on the planet. I have zero upper body strength to carry those stupidly heavy trays. I worked in a martini/tapas bar and I can't even remember how many martinis or glasses of wine I dropped. Those fuckers are top-heavy!

This was an awesome movie and I highly recommend it. It's called Waitress.  So good!
Anyway, I have a lot of respect for people in the food industry. I have a lot of family who either currently work in or have worked in the past in a restaurant. It's a tough business. It's not so easy for the girl who's trying to lose weight to be the customer either. They lure me with their cheesy, saucy, ooey, gooey, chocolatey, crispy, meaty, buttery goodness and I'm at their mercy. I bow to you Restaurant Gods. I'm in complete awe of how you do it. I go in with a good attitude. I really do. I intend to only have a grilled piece of chicken or a light salad or some other bland as hell entree they have on the menu. Oh and thanks again, Restaurant Gods for placing approximately 3 items on your menus that are healthy. You rock. Fuckers.

By the time our perky little server named, Lexi (or something else equally bubbly), comes by to take our order, I have somehow transformed into some slobbering, drooling idiot that has completely forgotten about the 3 healthy items and goes for the aforementioned entrees that have absolutely no place in a healthy diet. "I'll have the chicken. Fried. With Gravy. Green beans (yay a little triumph!) and mashed potatoes. OF COURSE I WANT GRAVY, LEXI! Duh!". What the fuck is wrong with me? What happened to ordering one of the 3 items? Am I that fucking weak? Yes. Yes I am. Sigh. I then look at my husband and say something like, "Well, I'll be good tomorrow". I know I'm not the only one that uses that line right? So, we eat our dinner and all the while I'm thinking, "No dessert. No dessert. No dessert". Most of the time I'm good and pass on the dessert that I obviously want. Last weekend? Not so much.

Yes, please!

Lexi: "How is everything?"
Us: "Fine, thanks".
Lexi: "What can I get you for dessert?" You're a sly one, Lexi. I never had a chance against you, did I?
Husband: "Nothing for me, thanks".
Me: "Umm...dessert? Wow. Umm...that's a tough decision there, Lexi. Dessert huh? Sure! Why not? I'll have the Cherry Raspberry Almond Crisp, please. You only live once, right?" Ugh.

Stressed out about the weekend eating much? Why yes, yes I am.
It was totally delicious and it didn't happen exactly like that, but you get the idea. I caved. I rationalized. I sucked. I actually said, "Well, it has fruit in it! That's good right?" Are you kidding me? Geez! How do you resist the things you love so much? I really am usually pretty good about desserts, but it seems like lately I crave them more and more. Why?! Come on, Restaurant Gods! Give a girl a break!

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

My Somewhat Co-Dependent Vaguely Dysfunctional Relationship with Pants.

I have in my dresser, two drawers. Okay, well, six drawers but that's beside the point. For the sake of this post i'm just going to mention the bottom drawers.

They're full of pants.

There is a drawer on the left which contains all current wear-able pants. The other drawer, the one with no handle so on the odd occasion I have to open it I'm required to get down on my knees, pull out the drawer above so that I can slide my hand under and kind of jimmy the drawer open, contains more pants. This drawer holds pants that I have, at some point worn.

They generally fall into two size ranges. The 11s and 12s are the ones i used to wear, after losing 65 lbs and before gaining back 25. The ones that I pull out every few weeks and in great anticipation, hike em up as far as my thighs and ass will allow. Sometimes I can button them. Sometimes I can even zip them up, but even after doing so, after sucking in my gut and doing 5-6 squats in an effort to stretch them out, I end up sighing and folding them back up, whispering "soon, my pretties. Soon."

The other ones I don't talk about much. They are the 16-18's. Don't get me wrong. They're nice pants and I don't mean them any ill will, but I hope to hell that they never get moved to the wearable drawer. They are symbolic of how far I came, and how far back I could fall. I haven't kept many of my 'fat clothes'. Just these two or three pairs of jeans.

Before I went on the first leg of my journey, I had a massive clothing purge and donated a large bundle of clothes that I believed I would never wear again. Months later, as I began to lose the weight, I wished I could have some of those things back (Ramones T-shirt, I still miss you, and think of you every day). I've almost never missed any of my bigger clothes, with the exception of my leather pants and the polka-dot dress that I tried to take in, but I'm kind of a shitty seamstress.

Over the last few months since putting some of the weight back on and moving many of my pants into the 'No-Wear' drawer, i've been wearing a lot of dresses. Pants have not been my friend, especially work wise. I've recently moved a pair of work pants from the no-wear drawer to the wear-drawer so that's opened my options a bit, but on the whole, pants are kind of bullshit.

"Don't you hate pants?"
I have one pair, in my closet. They are currently no-wears. They're my goal pants. Awesome size 11 red plaid pants. They're kind of my Holy Grail of pants.

This is an old picture, but you get the idea.
Pants. Pants, pants, pants. I just like saying it. (You know, this post could make a pretty decent drinking game. Pants.)

Oh, sorry. Kind of drifted off there.

I guess because of the way I am built - decent chest, some semblance of a waist, ALL ASS (which is why I will forever love Freddy Mercury.. you're right, we DO make the rocking world go round!) - pants are a bone of contention more than any other type of clothing. There's so many types I feel restricted from wearing:

Low-rise: Only if you're interested in being exposed to 17" of asscrack
Skinny jeans: Nope, not with the leg thing.
Pleated fronts: Well, why would anyone want to? yeeesh.

So one of the things that I look forward to is greater pants-buying freedom (okay, everyone take a shot!). There's this pre-conceived notion in the pants-designing world that if you wear a 14 or a 16, then you are some kind of Amazon - Old Navy, I'm looking at you! After losing the initial weight, I enjoyed wearing pants that didn't require extensive hemming, because as mentioned, my skills as a seamstress are below par.

I look forward to it again. I'm going to end off this post with a track from my friend BigNic, entitled, appropriately - "Pants". Now Drink!

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Tragically skewed

(Note: This is a short and sweet post.  School is kicking my ass.  Geez.  All in the name of higher education.)

As a college student who is a bit older, wiser and more realistic than many of my classmates, I sometimes observe these kids (I'm sorry, but if you're 18, you're still a kid).  After watching young guys gawk and leer at girls, I am pretty sure that their opinions of beauty are tragically skewed.  Thanks to supermodels and Paris Hilton, men now think a woman is sexy only if she's somewhere between Victoria Beckham and Karen Carpenter. 

I'm sorry, but if a strong wind comes through this chick is gone.
 This puts a lot of unneccesary added pressure on women to not just be healthy, but on the extreme end to where issues like bulemia, anorexia and malnourishment come into play.  There is so much pressure on young celebrities as well, and their health is taking the toll.  Even young women who seem to be in peak physical condition are falling ill, such as Selena Gomez, who a few months ago was hospitalized for malnourishment. This is tragic, not beautiful. Certainly not sexy.

So I see these testosterone-fueled males ogling girls in the hallways, and they smirk and make rude comments about beautiful, healthy girls being too "chunky" or having an ass that's "too many handfuls" but drool all over the chick whose size-zero skinny jeans are loose.  Seriously?   I want to grab these girls and scream at them, "EAT SOMETHING ALREADY!"

Maybe that's why I love my husband so much.  He can't stand bone-thin women (obviously).  His celebrity crushes are Carrie Underwood, J-Lo, Jennifer Garner and Marilyn Monroe.  Granted, he does like Lady GaGa and Kate Beckinsale, but that's because one's a freak and the other is a vampire.
(Sources: , and
Since me and these other wonderful, fabulous women are going after goals of healthier lives, we have to keep in mind that while the rest of the world may have distorted versions of what is sexy, we can set our own standards.  Besides, we're all hot already anyway. 

Monday, February 6, 2012

Filling in for B. Let's be positive!

I may still listen to the devil a little, but the angel and I are becoming  friends. 
Hi guys! Don't check your calendars, it's not Friday yet. It's Jess filling in for B today. I know you were looking forward to hearing from her, and so was I, but DAMN THE MAN, B can't access Blogger from her work computer for a while. So you're stuck with me and more of my trials and tribulations.

You know how you have the best intentions when it comes to your diet? How you know you're going to be this fount of strength and resolve? That was me. I was sailing along on my diet cooking brown rice, sauteeing veggies every night, baking chicken and then BAM the next thing I know I'm sitting in a movie theater watching George Clooney cry over his cheating comatose skank wife while I steadily toss a giant bag of popcorn and a gallon of root bear down my throat. Then going to dinner and consuming mashed potatoes. Oh the horror of it all! I was disgusted with myself so I did what any rational *nearly* 29 year old woman would do. I went home, went to bed, woke up, and went to a movie with my bff for life and tossed buttered popcorn down my throat while I realized at some point in my life I would totally give Harry Potter a run for his money. Rawr. Then I had chili for dinner.

So what I'm saying is this: even the most resolved people falter. Even the most well-intentioned will succumb to temptation at some point. This doesn't mean we're destined to forever be fatties. It doesn't even mean we're bad people. It does mean that we're human and we should give ourselves a break. I should be more upset with myself than I am, but here's why I"m not: I was good all week (except for the Reese's Cups I had Wednesday night, I was PMS-ing cut me some slack) so it doesn't make me the devil that I was kind of bad Saturday and Sunday. I'll do good this week and it'll be like that delicious buttery popcorn never happened.

I've been reading a lot of blogs lately where some of my ladies are beating them selves up for falling off the wagon and I think the most detrimental thing to a diet is guilt. No good ever comes of guilt. It just, for me, leads to scarfing food to make myself feel better and then I feel guilty for eating so I get depressed and then I eat and it's a vicious cycle. So unless you did some blow off a hooker's ass just before some crazy action caused her to wind up dead and so you stuffed her in your car to ditch in the desert, guilt isn't necessary. It was a cheeseburger or it was a cookie or maybe popcorn and ladies, we can handle that kind of back lash. We're doing better than we have for the majority of our lives. We're working towards a common goal and we will get there. We all have each other to stay sane and to be a support system. We can work off some buttered popcorn. 

So the excited buzz of the clean slate dieting has worn off as we've managed to scuff up our slate some. The important thing, we must stay positive! Not bouncing around like a lunatic happy all the time, but positive that what we're doing will work out for us. 

Sunday, February 5, 2012

I was all excited to write my new post but then I got bronchitis. Damn you bronchitis.

But that sort of segues into why I decided I needed to lose weight.

As you know from my last entry, I was a fairly happy and self confident fat chick. Something happened, however in August that completely changed the way I felt.

I started a new job mid-July and started feeling unwell soon after. I was having some stomach issues and although I've always been pretty healthy, my stomach issues have plagued me since university.  Basically, ulcers, heartburn, gerd. All that great stuff.

By the beginning of August I was having trouble breathing out of my left lung. I went to emergency after work on one particularly bad day and the doctor told me I had allergies. Even after I explained that I don't have allergies. He told me that allergies were bad this year, everyone had allergies, blah blah blah.

So he gave me some puffers and sent me home. The puffers provided temporary relief but I still could not get much air in my left lung (haha. I typed lunch..well it is 1245). I kept going to work because who the heck takes time off for allergies.

But I just kept getting sicker and sicker. So back to emergency. This time the doctor gave me a breathing treatment which helped a lot, concurred with the last doctor about the allergy diagnosis and sent me packing.

Still continued to work.

I would wake up at night (3am. Clockwork) and literally cry myself to sleep. I was sure I was going to die. I thought there must be something really wrong with me and the doctors cannot figure it out.

I made a decision to start making changes in my life. The first thing I cut out was aspartame. Trust me. Aspartame is not doing anyone any favours and I was consuming a lot of it between diet Pepsi and Crystal Light. A couple days later I decided to give up all fast food. That certainly wasn't helping my stomach either. And then I gave up Facebook games. Which has nothing to do with food *but* it was something I felt was holding me back.

I made those changes and was still extremely sick. Pat (husband) took me back to ER and I got a great doctor who actually listened to my left lung. (Keep in mind that I'm a singer..I know when I can't get air in my lungs) New ER doctor ordered a chest xray and whaddaya know? My left lunch is half filled with fluid. I have pneumonia. PNEUMONIA! And I haven't missed a day of work and I've been pushing myself because I think it's only allergies.

He immediately ordered me to bed for a week and he also put me on some heavy duty medication for my stomach and my chest infection.

So that was the beginning of my weight loss journey. I had a huge epiphany and decided that I should start listening to my body.

And that has completely changed my life.

Friday, February 3, 2012

Will power? What's that again?

There's many different reasons I'm at the weight that I am now. Binge eating isn't exactly a new symptom of mine. There's been countless times I've gone to a restaurant and ordered food and out comes a massive plate. It's all so delicious and so good and gee I bet it doesn't warm over well, so then I would eat it all. Even if I was stuffed and not close to hungry, I would still eat it all. Same at home when I'd cook. I don't want it to go to waste, it won't warm over well, it'll just sit in the fridge and take up space and spoil, so I go ahead and eat it. 

There are a few times in my past that I have binged ridiculously. As in, it's so gross, so shocking that I am ashamed to even think about what I did and what I consumed. So I'm going to post my top 4 pig outs, because I should be ashamed. I should be disgusted with myself. So here goes a count down leading to the ultimate binge:

4) So there was this special day several years ago when McDonald's was selling their cheese burgers for 25 cents. I was a broke college student, I had a part time job that didn't pay jack. I was drinking daily, throughout the day, and basically didn't give a fuck what I had going on. So I took my broke ass to the McDonald's drive through and I ordered 5 five cinco cheeseburgers. I ate them. All of them. And a medium fries and a large diet Coke (LOL at my diet Coke). I will say it made me sick. About an hour later I had a killer headache and I vomited for the rest of the night. My body knew better than my brain did. 

3)**Let me preface this one by saying it was a good 9 years ago when I was in college and dumb, so I'm not suggesting anyone ever do what I did during that time ever** There was a time when I was young and foolish. Very foolish. During this time I drank heavily and I smoked lots of...things. One night in particular the...things we smoked proved to be more potent that usual which lead to my at the time bff and I shoving as much food into our faces as possible. Here's what happened, to the best of my recollection (it's a bit hazy). An entire unopened box of Reeses's cereal, 6 tacos from Taco Bell, 6 donuts from Krispy Kreme... and there could have been more. I'm not really sure. I don't condone this behavior, however we were young and we were being driven around by a person that did not partake in the same things in which we did, so we weren't a menace on the roads. Don't call the po-po please. 

2) This one took place in Binghamton, NY this past Fall when I went with my hubby to visit some of his friends. He wanted to introduce me to all the best food the town had to offer. So I ate all of the following, in ONE DAY. Large cup of delicious coffee. Giant chocolate truffle. 6 inch pork Spiedie's sub and 6 inch chicken Spiedie's sub to better judge which is better with a large root beer. 3 fresh made donuts. Nirchi's pizza. Black & white cookies. A bowl of chicken noodle soup. 6 fried wings. 2 beers. And again, whether it was from the chain smoking at The Terrace that night with a couple of beers (I don't really drink anymore) or the constant stuffing of my face, the end result was me heaving up dinner (just the wings). I'm gonna blame all of the above. 

1) So as a lot of people are, I am a depressed eater. When I was just a couple of days away from 20 my douchey boyfriend and I broke up- for good this time (young "love" is always so dramatic). I found myself depressed, pms-ing, and "heartbroken" one week day. I skipped class, I went to Wal-Mart. I purchased Dawson's Creen Season 1 (still a favorite show of mine don't be a hater), a roll of chocolate chip cookie dough, egg rolls, chimichangas, and a can of whipped cream. I went home cooked the egg rolls and the chimichangas then sat on the couch with Dawson and ate and cried and ate some more. Mostly I ate. 

Why do I ever wonder why I'm like this now? That's all so embarrassing and also dangerous! I have eaten so much that my body has literally rejected the food! Ugh, I'm so gross. This has really helped me see how unnecessary all of that was. Eating all of that when I was depressed didn't make me feel any better. It just made me feel worse. If not literally sick. The trip with my hubby up to NY we were there for two whole days- we could have broken the food up over the two days. 

Well things are different now. No more ridiculous bingeing on food because I'm depressed, bored, or just because it's there and is delicious. I have to find the will-power that I know I am capable of. I quit smoking 12/31/11. It's been 33 days and I just put out a cigarette one day and didn't light another one after that- cold turkey guys. Go me! I know I CAN succeed in this diet business, I just have to find the will-power.   

And I'm adding this ling to a pretty interesting article, actually it's very short but you should check it out. Perhaps NSFW. Fact About America's Warped Body Image