It's hard to climb back on once you fall off

So, for the past week I found myself obsessing, and really getting depressed about everything.  And I decided to take a break and not think about it for a while, and I fell off.  And it's SO HARD to get back going once you get stuck.

But...tomorrow's not only a new day, but a new month too!  Here we go, up again!

And then frustration sets in.

This is probably the point where I always give up.  I weighed in last Friday at 190lbs.  By Tuesday I was up to 193 and I hadn't really binged or anything.  There wasn't any real cause I could figure for the gain.  Luckily I'm down to 191 again, but I spent the whole week just wanting to cry.

I hate this, I really do.  What's the point in continuing if it stops working?

I finished.

3 weeks ago Husband come home with a copy of EA Sports Active 2 for the Wii for me.  I decided to try it out.  I quit halfway through the workout.  I had the excuses of needing to make dinner (it could have waited another 15 minutes) and I couldn't breathe (kind of a big issue....), but in the end, I quit.

So today I tried a workout of equivalent intensity/duration.  It helps that I remembered I have an inhaler (it had been prescribed because I had a bad cough that looked like it was heading toward pneumonia, but it's useful when my lungs stop working during exercise as well), but that didn't cure everything.  There was a point (about the same moment in the workout, actually) where I had to stop and focus on my breathing and I was really tempted to just stop.  But I didn't.  I gave myself that minute and then I kept going.  There was a lot of chanting "You can do this," and focusing on just one movement and then the next, but I kept going.

And I finished.

Honestly, physically, I feel like crap. My lungs hurt. I can't take a deep breath. My knee is killing me.  And because I used my inhaler, my head hurts.  But, I finished. And the accomplishment I feel is worth feeling like crap right now.

Weekly weigh in

This is technically a 2 pound loss from last Friday.  But as per my post on Monday, I haven't lost any appreciable weight.  I blame the cookies and soda.  Stupid stress eating, I really *do* need to find something better.

Oh stress.

The hardest part of weight loss for me is handling stress.  When I get stressed out, I want something sweet to eat.  Usually cookies.

I'm still trying to find something else that works.  I know they say exercise releases stress, but...not for me it doesn't.  So I'm trying to find something I can do that doesn't require me to ingest something.

Tell me about your childhood...

I majored in psychology when I was in college.  Seems ironic, I think, since I was in therapy at the time for intense depression and anxiety (which was actually caused by an undiagnosed thyroid disorder).  The thing I didn't so much like about the idea of psychotherapy, though, was that it seemed to lay all of a person's problems at the feet of their parents.  I believe a person is responsible for their own reactions to circumstances, for the most part, but I do also know that many reactions are taught by emulating the parents.

So that makes me think about my own mother.  Now, I'm not at all blaming my mother for my body image issues.  But I can see where her body image issues laid the foundation for mine.  I remember my mother yo-yo dieting a lot.  And her focus was on the weight and how much she had to lose and how dissatisfied she was with her weight.  And when we talked about whether food was healthy or not, things that were unhealthy were said to "make you fat."

Nothing is wrong with that, really, I don't think.  But I think through that I learned a focus on weight.  And then, when I started to gain somewhere between 3rd grade and 5th grade and the bullying came, my peers taught me that because of my body I had no worth.  I had one particular girl who was rather awful, and got up in my face a couple of times and told me because I was fat, I was ugly, and destined to be alone for the rest of my life.  Nobody would love me because I was fat.  Because of my weight, I was gross, disgusting, something not only to be avoided, but discarded with as much force as you can muster (not her actual words, but that was the understood gist of things).  And the rest of the class joined in.  She would say things loudly and everyone else would laugh, and the teachers would do nothing...passive-agressively enforcing it.

When you're 10~11 years old, when you're told that enough by those around you, you start believe them.  So I ate, and read.  I didn't want to go outside and do anything.  I didn't want to be seen.  And when I ate cookies, or ice cream or whatnot, I felt good. Well, you know, not good but good in the way that food brings.  And I read some more, because I could be in that world, and be the heroine, the one that everyone loves and needs.  Which only caused more weight gain. Which of course only made me hate myself more.

I tried to lose weight on and off.  The first few pounds would come off fairly easily, and then it would stop and I would get frustrated.  What's the point of going through all that effort when it doesn't work?  Of course, I'm pretty sure that my thyroid disorder developed sometime around when the weight gain started, and while it was undiagnosed, I WAS fighting a losing battle.  I've started to forgive myself for those failed attempts, but in the end, I also gave up.

So here I am now.  I've already had one small plateau (really?? I plateaued during a time when I lost 13lbs in one month?), but I forced myself through it.  We'll see what really happens when I have a BIG plateau, but for now, I'm feeling better about things than I usually do at this point.


I'm being very conscious of what I say around my daughter, as well.  I try to talk about my health, not my weight.  When we discuss foods, I try to say things like "Let's not get donuts, because they're not very healthy for you" as opposed to saying "they'll make you fat."  She's a tall girl, and is at the top of the weight chart for her age because she's off the chart for height.  She's going to weigh more than the other girls her age, and I really don't want her to feel like I did because of her weight.

Again.

This is my 2nd try at a weight loss blog.  I'm using it more as a diary, just to get my thoughts about my weight and body out into the open rather an internalizing it all.

Another reason I titled this first post "again" is because here I am, trying to lose weight again.  I go in cycles of doing well with loss, and then crashing and gaining it all again.  And again. And again.  And I'm tired of it.

So far this year I've lost nearly 13lbs.  Or 14.  I can't remember where I started at.  Maybe 204lbs or 203lbs.

Anyway, for the second day in a row I'm at 190 (I'm not going to use decimals here.  Makes it easier to remember).  I haven't been in the 180s for 2 1/2 years.  My goal for right now is 175, which was my weight when I got married and which I haven't seen for nearly 8 years now.  But my weight at my first pregnancy (183) is what I got down to before.  I'm sort of afraid of getting down to it again and, again, crashing.  I'm afraid I can't do this.  I'm afraid I can't make it stick.


But there are a few differences this time.  This time I'm focusing more on my health and not my weight. The end results should be the same, but the frame of mind is different, and I think this one might be better.  I'm excited for it, as well as afraid.  Inside of me there is a feeling of empowerment that I'm trying to focus on and give a place to grow.

So here I am, 5'6.5", 190lbs