I am not accustomed to having difficulty with anything I set my mind to do. Yet, I find myself struggling to act faithfully upon Dr. Ard’s suggestion to return to the first week of transition. This begs the question: have I actually committed? I hate sweet food; it grew with intensity as my time on full formula continued onward toward transition. I am hungry, out of my mind hungry … sweets don’t cut it. They make me sick. So … here I stand in the middle of my non-salty-food-house-of-shakes trying to make myself mentally happy about my decision, so I don’t struggle emotionally so bad. So far … Not so good. One thing’s for sure … I ain’t cravin’ no fatty foods! Guess that’s a plus! 🙂
Last night, while riding our bikes, Mike and I talked about why we thought that I was wrangling back and forth with eating and why out of the blue I struggle with portion control. I have never had a problem with portion control before. In fact, before OptiFast, my stomach was smaller than it is now, which is something I do not understand. It really doesn’t make any sense. No one else seems to have this problem. Now, I am struggling with a problem I have never had. I have had a box of chocolates last a month (or longer if no one else got to them), because I would eat one piece and be perfectly satisfied; yesterday I started to have only one that turned into FOUR?!?!?! What the HECK is that?
Mike thinks that maybe I am feeling deprived. My reply back to him was, “How can I be deprived? I chose to do this. No one is making me. This is a choice I am making for my health.” So we spoke over my body declaring as we rode that I am NOT deprived. I am not persecuted. I have made a wise healthy choice, and I am not turning back. This seemed to help, but there was still more nagging at my mind.
Some time yesterday, I read something on Dizi Daisy’s page about her need to examine why she is wrestling so hard with doing what she knows works when she has less than 5 pounds to go. Her questioning herself made me start a very serious conversation with myself and my beloved hubby. This conversation brought me to tears. I am not one hundred precent sure, but I just might be sabotaging myself.
Why would I do that? Well, I was a big girl and not only was I big, but I tended to swell in excess of ten pounds at a time. I would swell so badly that my skin hurt to the touch. Something that does not happen anymore, I might add. Weight loss and a reduction in swelling has left my neck looking like a turkey just before killing time, saggy and baggy. I really can’t stand it. I know my pictures don’t show that, but am I crazy that should post pics of that? NO!
I am slightly freaked about what 30 more pounds lost is going to look like? Am I going to look like a hag? Tired and worn out? I want to have faith that it won’t be any worse than now, but how can I be sure? I am not sure that I can make myself go under the knife to correct the skin problems. The idea of surgery scares me badly. Unfortunately, corrective surgery will be the only way to remove all the excess skin I have when I reach goal. I know I will not be able to stand much worse on the sag, bag, and wrinkle. It isn’t just in my face, but … my arms … my knees … my stomach, and other places that are hard to bear looking at.
Mike tells me I am beautiful. I really appreciate his kindness, and his eyes that are filled with love for me; they filter every ugly thing out. I am a blessed woman. I know this. However, I want to like what I see when I look in the mirror. I am wondering if that is possible if I go forward. I think that has been playing in the background lately, and has been a major part of my struggle with myself, because my heart is divided and not completely committed to push for the goal I set for myself. I know, vanity. It is very hard to go from one source of shame to another.
In the end, my desire for health must out weigh the fear of looking older and haggardly. I know Mike will think I am beautiful; he did when I was very large; he will when I am very wrinkled. I tell myself I am satisfied with this, even when I know in my heart I am not. I would like to have both, that may not be possible.
So, off I wobble into the sunset of my ego, to press onward and upward towards my goal of health. Now, that I have discovered my weights that were binding me to my sluggish weight, I break their bonds and move forward with my will towards my destiny. Wrinkled or no … off, off I must go.
Smiling and laughing I will go … because who can tolerate a drag … well unless it is my chin (I will tolerate that, I guess I gotta!)? Hey, does any one know any exercises that work on saggin chins?
Till … tha morrow … I bid you a bon fair-the-well ….S