Mom At Work

I had a sick kid at home today. Mabel came to me at six a.m. complaining about her belly and feeling like she was going to throw up. She didn't perk up at all the next hour, so I decided to let her stay home. It doesn't seem like she's faking: she's been achy and droopy and laying low all day.

So I did my usual house cleaning, broken up here and there with requests for chicken soup, soda and Popsicles. I haven't gotten around to the Room of Doom today, other than to vacuum the carpet. Maybe now that Dad's home he can supervise the ill child and I can get a little bit more done.

I've noticed one big difference since starting the Wellbutrin: before, Fridays were my day to eat anything and everything I wanted because I was by myself and could "treat" myself. While I did make a little batch of apple cranberry crisp for myself (about two servings), it wasn't much more than an over-glorified apple and cranberry oatmeal, and I wasn't driven to go hog wild with anything else throughout the day. What once seemed to be an uncontrollable drive to eat has suddenly been cut off at the knees. In fact, it feels suspiciously like what I imagine "normal eating" to be. I could handle that.

Sorry I don't have much else to post. Been too busy being Mom/Housewife today to do much deeper thinking. Maybe tomorrow I'll have more.

Happy Jonimas!

Happy Jonimas! My fellow Joni Mitchell devotee and friend SS reminded me that yesterday was her birthday, and we always like to celebrate one of our favorite artists. In honor of this special day I listened to two of her albums on my MP3 player-- For The Roses and her live album, Miles of Aisles -- while cross-stitching during Mabel's gymnastics class.

This was a good thing to do, because yesterday afternoon I got horribly irritable, and I could feel the urge to binge creeping in like cold air seeping into the cracks of a house. Music does have a calming affect on me, as well as doing needlework, and it helped me to avoid eating yet allow me to focus on what was bothering me.

I will say that one song in particular really hit home: Lessons in Survival. But that's a whole therapy session in itself there...

What I did manage to sort out were the feelings that were affecting me that evening. First of all, my back was hurting me off and on all day and was really starting to ache by late afternoon. That by itself is a logical cause of my irritability. But the real problem was feeling overwhelmed: I've dug in deeply to this Room of Doom project and making real progress. My book shelves are looking great and I managed to organize my large collection of greeting cards (I suppose that sounds odd, but my late grandmother was an avid card sender and always had a stockpile for every occasion. And guess who inherited it? Yeah, me.) But now I'm getting to the hard part; sorting through my husband's and my own miscellaneous papers and other office doodads and figuring out what to do with them all: file them, store them or throw them away. I feel a lot of uncertainty about Hubby's stuff (I have a difficult time getting him to file, organize or throw away anything, and if I go ahead and do it for him, I worry I'll do something wrong), and the piles are so big that I don't even know where to begin.

I found myself facing a similar situation last night with the counted cross stitch project I've been working on since August. I am finally getting close to completing this larger-sized, somewhat intricate picture, yet last night I had that same feeling of being overwhelmed and not knowing where to start. I finally made myself minimize my focus and just pick one color of thread and deal with that and not think about the rest. By changing my perspective, concentrating on a small amount of stitches instead of letting myself get overwhelmed by all the ones that need to be done, it was much easier to deal with and lessened my trepidations.

As I was getting into the groove and enjoying myself again, I realized I need to do the same thing with the Room of Doom, as well as the rest of my life. I see that this has to do with my perfectionism: I fret so much about doing something right that I either get irritable and fret about doing it wrong or wind up not doing it at all. I've seen this kind of procrastination a lot in my family and can recognize it in myself. Instead of getting overwhelmed, frustrated and apprehensive about the big things or what's going to happen in the future, I need to redirect myself and focus on the Now -- i.e., conscious living.

While I was still a little irritable when I got home last night, at least I knew why, and I didn't turn to food to make myself feel better. I used my shiatsu massager to loosen up my back, laid down on my heating pad and went to bed early. This morning my back is still a little tender, but better, and I'm prepared to tackle that stack of papers this afternoon a little bit at a time.

The Benefits of Anger

This could have been a picture of me yesterday. I had some moments when I was okay -- mainly when I was out of my house -- but every time I was at home I seemed to be on the verge of a complete nuclear meltdown. Every little thing was aggravating the hell out of me, and I fumed and bitched and stomped around like a maniac.

Today I'm better, mainly because I'm just too darned busy at work, where I still am. I also think it helped that I actually let out my feelings and didn't hold them inside. While the fuming was pretty exhausting, it's a better feeling than the sedated, zombified feeling I was experiencing.

In addition, the more I feel and express, the less I'm turning to food. I had to go to the grocery store last night to get milk, and I noticed as I walked past or even checked out some of my recent binge foods that I just didn't want it. It still looks good, but that compulsive feeling that I NEED IT ALL NOW isn't there. What a huge relief!

I still like my sweets, but I find myself craving other things like nuts and cheese, and not huge amounts either: I'm finding myself content with one cheese stick or a tiny bowl of nuts. I'm feeling much more like an intuitive eater again instead of an out-of-control eating machine, and I'm so relieved.

So while my explosive bitching isn't the most pleasant thing in the world for me and my family, it seems to be paying off in more ways than one. It certainly got my husband's attention. Last week when I made the suggestion that we needed a date night he shrugged me off and said, "When will we find time for that?" Today he's e-mailing me from work telling me how badly we need quality time together. Like my pal Lori says, sometimes people just need that good old 2x4 board over the head treatment to finally get the point.

This morning I was much calmer and nicer, and when I dropped off Mabel at the bus stop I said, "So, was I better today?" She just smiled at me as she got out of the vehicle. Being a drama queen herself, I suppose she understands.

I wonder, now that I think about it, that the fact that I finally walked a couple miles this morning didn't help matters, too. Exercise does do wonders for my stress tolerance, which is something I have to keep in mind as I try to get back to a regular workout routine.

Go Ask Alice

Even though this is a personal blog and I'm here to write about my personal experiences, my feelings and reflections on life, I have to admit I do a bit of censoring. Because this is out there on the World Wide Web and I don't know exactly who is reading this, I keep some things private: my daughter's and husband's first names or faces, our last name, exactly where we go to work or to school. I really don't want that personal information out their for people to access.

But I've also been keeping some issues off of this blog. I've alluded to them from time to time, but because it involves other people I don't go into details. It's really not for the public domain, and I don't want anything I say here coming back to haunt me.

However, these issues (along with the ones I do mention openly here) have been getting worse lately, as you can tell from my Saturday run-away-from-home freak-out. Since then my nerves have been shot; every little minuscule irritation has been a major event, and every time I think I can get through a day without some incident setting me off, I seem to get sandbagged when I least expect it. Then came this morning.

It's been several years since I had a full-blown anxiety attack. But I recognized it oh so well; the shaking hands, the racing pulse, the panicky thoughts and feelings of helplessness and being overwhelmed by everything. It's a scary thing.

And it made me realize that yep, today, July 12, I have hit the wall. I have been doing everything I can to get me through these issues: the talk therapy, the cognitive behavioral therapy and biofeedback involved in Intuitive Eating; relaxation techniques and meditation; journal writing here on the blog and reaching out to others in online IE groups. But despite all of this, I seem to be spiraling into this vortex of stress and anxiety and can't seem to find a way out.

So I picked up the telephone with my shaky hands and called my doctor's office. They had an appointment open this afternoon, and I took it.

I had two surprises when I went to the appointment. Number one, despite what felt like a horribly racing pulse, my blood pressure was 130/80. A little high, but much lower than I expected with as wired as I felt.

The other thing was the weight. Granted, I'm not thrilled with 224, about 10 pounds higher than what I was maintaining before my vacation, but I have maintained that weight ever since, which is better than continuing to gain.

The doctor came in and asked what was up, and I wished I had this blog to hand to her and say, "Here, read this." But I gave her the five-minute summary and let her know about the binge eating, the intuitive eating approach and my escalating stress and anxiety. I think she was impressed when I brought up my Internet reading on medications for anxiety in combination with eating disorders and the common use of SSRI drugs for treatment. These include Prozac, Paxil, Lexapro, among others.

After some discussion of my symptoms, both with the General Anxiety Disorder (oh joy, another label) and the Binge Eating Disorder, it was agreed that I would try Lexapro. Apparently this drug is supposed to have less side effects and is tolerated better than some of the other SSRIs. She gave me a three-week sample, and I'm to go back in two weeks to see how I'm doing.

My doctor commented twice that she was impressed with my "insight" and thought I was on the right track with the methods I'm taking to recover.

I'm trying not to see this as defeat, but rather taking care of myself the best way I know how. Yes, I've hit a low point emotionally, but I was able to recognize immediately when it was getting beyond my capabilities to handle alone and when I needed some help. And maybe this is what I need to do to get me through what is becoming the most difficult challenge of my life.

I don't expect any magic results from this or any other pill. I don't expect my anxiety or urges to binge to miraculously disappear. But if this medicine can take the edge off my frazzled nerves and help me work through what's causing the anxiety and urges to binge, then it can be a tool in my growing bag of tricks to beat this thing.

Thanks to Lori for not only helping to get me through this harrowing day, but for giving me the title for today's post. Mabel and I just watched "Alice in Wonderland" a few days ago, so when Lori gave me this title, it made me smile and remember just how wacky that book and movie is. And of course I can't forget the killer song by Jefferson Airplane.

Today wasn't great. It could have been worse. Things will get better.

Detour from the Road to Bingeville

It's a rainy afternoon here. Mabel spent the night at a friend's house and is still there until I pick her up in an hour. Hubby's outside with his dad working on our new porch. My mom was here for a few minutes to visit and has just left. I have the house to myself and can do anything I want.

So why do I want to eat?

I'm not hungry -- for lunch I had half a sandwich that was left over from last night's supper, then half a brownie (probably a 2"x2" square) and just a few minutes ago I had a candy bar. The candy bar was bordering on excessive, but I was still hungry, so I let myself have it.

So now I'm pleasantly full, yet in my mind the urge to sneak off and stuff myself is lurking there like a shady character under a lamp post. Ominous but not quite an immediate threat.

And here I am, the Watcher, looking down from my window at this scene, and I can't help but wonder why. This is a reoccurring theme for me -- I get some time by myself, and the urge to binge arises. It's not that I'm lonely -- good Lord I've been so inundated with people lately that I'm been eager for an afternoon like this. I'm not stressed out or angry today -- work was calm and quiet with my Pastor still on vacation. It is that time of the month, but I feel fine.

Someone, and I can't remember who now, figured this situation out on their own blog, and I knew she had gotten me pegged, too. This comes down to the old food for comfort syndrome. I get some time to myself, I want to "treat" myself, and the first response is food.

This isn't anything out of the ordinary. We comfort and treat ourselves with food all the time. As a kid, after a victorious baseball or soccer game the team goes out for ice cream. As an adult, you get a promotion and celebrate with a fancy dinner. As a kid, you scrape your knee and your mom gives you a cookie. As an adult, we have a rough day at work and treat ourselves by stopping at the grocery store on the way home and picking up our favorite comfort food. When someone dies, the family gets trays of food from friends and neighbors.

But when that comforting gets excessive, when it becomes a compulsion instead of a treat, it's time to learn different ways of taking care of ourselves. My first thought was to come here and write about it, to make myself blatantly conscious of what was going on and to separate myself from the old thoughts and behaviors that lead me down the road to Bingeville.

Now the trick is to find something else to do that will be satisfying enough to not make me feel deprived because I'm not giving in to these thoughts.

But you know what? Just writing about it here, lifting myself out of that mind set before the momentum kicked in, has made the urge less intense, less important. I'm not identifying with it, so it has lost its power over me. It's still there under the lamp post, but it's slowly withdrawing out of the halo of light and back into the darkness.

I think the best thing I can do for myself right now is to take 15 or 20 minutes to meditate. Then I'll go pick up Mabel from her friend's house and get on with the rest of my day.

Thank goodness I was willing and able to take this detour from the Road to Bingeville. It's a different path than the one I'm used to, but the scenery's a whole lot nicer.

One Macaroon

I've been meaning to blog all day today, but I'm just so freakin' tired that I can't really form coherent thoughts. In fact, it took me three times to type in my password right here at Blogger, so that proves how dopey I am.

I'm tired because I didn't get to bed until, oh, 2 a.m.-ish. The drive home from Pittsburgh was a little slow due to traffic not only from our show, but from the Pirates game, which was being held right across the river at PNC Park.

We had such a nice trip. We went to my own secular mecca, Whole Foods. We found my broccoli rabe, which we just can't find in our rural W@l-Mart world. I first tried this stuff last year when I visited friends in Philadelphia on a sandwich with roasted pork loin and provolone. But this stuff is great just sauteed with some garlic, too. I'm told it practically grows like a weed in New Jersey, so I'm hoping we can track down some seeds and try to grow our own next year. We struck out on the Thai Basil, so I'm thinking we may need to try to find seeds for this, too. I also loaded up on some of my favorite salad bar yummies -- whole grain tabbouleh, wheatberry salad, charred eggplant salad, and I found a new one, spicy marinated tempeh. I didn't get to eat any of them today; I'm thinking lunch tomorrow, unless I have to go out with the in-laws. In that case I'm hoping it will all keep until Monday.

I also splurged in the bakery section on two blueberry scones and a bag of my all-time favorites, their macaroon combo (almond, coconut and chocolate-coconut). The IE must be working, because after previous trips to WF I have scarfed down all my finds within the first 24 hours. This time I don't feel that urgency to eat all of it NOW, and I'm leisurely stretching it out.

Dinner was fantastic. Lidia's was a beautiful restaurant, the service was spectacular, and the food was incredible. The bread bowl was a combination of crusty Italian slices, rosemary foccacia, and some spicy cheesy bread sticks that knocked your socks off. They came with two bean spreads -- one was garbanzo with pesto and the other cannelloni with kalamata olives. Amazing.

Both Hubby and I went with the house special, an all-you-can eat pasta tasting of three different dishes which also included a Caesar salad a la Lidia, and Tirimisu for dessert. Again, the IE seemed to work. I did try one piece each of the breads (fortunately they were small pieces), but when I got to the salad I only ate half of it, knowing I had to save room for the pastas. They started you out with samples of the three different kinds (fettuccine with veal Bolognese, fusili Genevese with green beans and potatoes, and the best of the three, goat cheese ravioli in a thyme-infused butter sauce. But after those three samples, when they asked you which one you wanted more of, I couldn't do it. I knew dessert was still coming, so I fought my instincts to get my money's worth and passed on extras.

I was definitely full when we left, but I knew I could have been soooo much fuller. I was pleased that none of it felt forced or kick-started any diet mentality or feelings of deprivation.

The comedy show was hilarious. There were three warm-up acts that all made us laugh, then the headliner came on-- Artie Lange, sidekick on the Howard Stern Show -- and gave us a great show, too. I felt a little bad for Hubby, because all the comedians made references to the Stern Show, and he doesn't listen to it, only knowing a little of what I bring up once in a great while. So he didn't get all the references and jokes, but there were enough generic jokes to keep him amused.

In yet another odd coincidence in my life, the people sitting directly in front of us were originally from our area, and not only had the husband worked with some friends of mine, but I had taken some voice lessons from a relative of his when I was in high school.

The coolest thing was striking up a conversation about the Stern show with these people. No one else in my life listens to it, so I don't really have anyone to do any "water cooler chat" with after listening to it. I tell Hubby a few things, but I can tell he isn't interested enough to start listening himself. I realized it felt familiar to the experience I have online of talking to people here on the blogs about losing weight and now Intuitive Eating. It's so validating to find others who have experienced the same things I have, who understand what I'm going through, who can find the humor in the same things I do.

I did blow the IE thing a little at the end of the night when we stopped for gas before hitting the turnpike. It had been six hours since our meal and I was feeling a little hungry and wanted some caffeine to keep me awake for the ride home, so we stopped at a convenience store, and I wound up getting coffee and two doughnuts, and I ate both. I really should have stopped at one, but I didn't. And I really shouldn't have drank the coffee, because it gave me indigestion like coffee sometimes will. Maybe someday I'll learn.

Today's been a little tempting with all the goodies in the house and being so tired -- I only got about 5.5 hours of sleep, which is way below my norm -- but I haven't felt the compulsion to binge at all, which is good news. The good stuff's here and I'm aware of it, but again, that desire to eat it all as quickly as I can isn't there, mainly because I'm not going back on "the diet" in the near future. Instead of eating all the macaroons today, I've had one. Uno. Un. Ein. Totally bizarre.

So although I know I'm not eating the greatest right now -- as far as calories and fat and carbs go -- I'm happy to see a decrease in the compulsive thoughts and desires to binge. I may be a little heavier than I'd like, but I realize this process takes time, and I need to be patient. This is progress, and I know it.

Discovering Compassion

Despite some efforts not to, yesterday morning's self-loathing wound up snowballing into a binge. I've had worse binges calorie-wise, but the emotional and behavioral components were unmistakable.

I suppose I could compare myself and yesterday's binge to people who cut themselves. While I really didn't want to do it, there was such tension there that this unwelcome yet familiar behavior was the only thing that seemed to release it. Behind the tension was some hostility, resentment, sadness, and some surrender, too. I just didn't have the energy to fight it any more. It's strange how these binges can be both a treat and punishment to myself at the very same time.

So here I am this morning, reverting back to my breakfast and snack that I used to eat on "good" days. This sounds like I'm dieting, and maybe in some sense I am, but it feels different. Number one, I did not weigh myself this morning. I have beaten myself up enough over the past few days and I absolutely refuse to keep doing it. Number two, I am not counting calories. I am veering towards foods that I know are healthy -- full of fiber, antioxidants and other nutritionally good stuff -- but they also have to be foods that I enjoy eating. Number three, I will not let myself get too hungry and stir up those dangerous feelings of deprivation.

I don't feel like I'm giving up on Intuitive Eating. I do feel, however, that I may have gone a little overboard on the legalizing of all foods, and it's time to pull in the reins a little. The more I read about IE, it seems like the "experts" recommend a more controlled method to slowly reintroducing previously forbidden foods. So, for the next few weeks I'm going to try to re-evaluate where I am and scale back on the amount of different foods I have in the house.

The most wonderful thing that happened to me this morning was reading today's post on Tree Lover's blog. I needed this information more than anything else in the world today. It explained to me why I did what I did yesterday, and more importantly, why I need to give myself compassion instead of judgment, criticism and self-loathing. My binge eating disorder -- and let's face it, that's what I have -- is not an excuse or a cop-out. But it's something I am going to have to learn to cope with, just like anyone else who has a challenge in their lives.

Tree Lover could have been channeling me when she wrote this (hope she doesn't mind me quoting her):

"I have spent years wondering why I overate and binged even though it made me heavier than I wanted to be. On the one hand, I certainly knew that I was choosing to put the food in my mouth, but I also felt like I didn’t have a choice. I wanted to stop overeating and binging, but it was impossible for me to make that choice. Why? Because, as Eckhart Tolle wrote, I had no choice. I was overeating and binging because of “a mental-emotional pattern from the past.” Like women who repeatedly “choose” abusive relationships, my situation was self-created. But I was making that choice from a place of mind identification. My true self was not choosing to overeat and binge."

Tree Lover's blog is called "Conscious Eating ~ Conscious Living," and this really seems to be the secret to mastering IE and breaking that mental-emotional pattern I've created in my life. Now the question is, how do I achieve that?

Ham-Packed Weekend

Surprise, surprise, I have another jam-packed holiday weekend (I had a typo there earlier that read "ham-packed," which would have worked, too).

Today Hubby and I are going to the grand opening of a new furniture store to buy a new reclining chair for my FIL, whose birthday is tomorrow. It's going to be a birthday/Father's Day/thanks for helping us remodel our house gift. We are also going out to dinner with him, MIL, B&SIL tonight.

This afternoon my nephew has a baseball game, which Hubby wants to go to. However, our niece is in town for the weekend and wants to play with Mabel at our house, so I'm going to beg off the game and stay home with them. Of course, there won't be any R&R for me -- I have to clean the garage out because we are now hosting the Monday Memorial Day picnic, since there's a chance of rain and my B&SIL, who were going to host it, have no place for people to go because their house is under renovation. You may ask why I'm cleaning the garage and not Hubby: it's because I'm cleaning out the last of my stuff out that I took out of storage a few weeks ago.

Then of course there's Sunday. I've got a family reunion at noon, then at 4 p.m. my daughter is singing at a Memorial Day service at a local cemetery. My Dad lives near this cemetery, so I'm going to try to catch him at home and say hi. He just got home from an extended vacation and I haven't seen him for months.

And then there's Monday. We have an annual parade that Mabel and I usually march or ride bikes in, and then there's our picnic.

Can you say OVERLOAD? I don't know how this keeps happening to us, but we never seem to have a moment to spare. Of course I'm a little worried about keeping mindful and conscious about my body and eating this weekend, because I will be inundated with lots of food and eating opportunities: dinner, reunion, picnic. I'm going to do my best to honor my hunger, not eat until I'm stuffed, and not get overcome by urges to binge. Wish me luck!

Have a good holiday weekend, everybody!

Dissecting a Binge

Recovering from yesterday. I'm sad to say I binged. Not a small, fizzle-out snacking on sweets, not the Mother's Day overeating. A full-blown binge.

I would have loved to have come here and reported how I vanquished it, broke it down and defeated it with all kind of relaxation techniques and cognitive therapy skills. And I did try. But it just didn't happen. It was like a switch got flipped on and once that current went through, there was no turning it off.

I'm doing my best to see the positives here, the morning after. Taking May 1 as the starting date of my IE journey, I'm pleased that it's taken three weeks to have another binge. Since I was bingeing pretty much two days a week every week for several (way too many!) months, I know this is real progress.

Every IE book I've read has told me that the binges won't magically disappear. It takes time to recover from (in my case) the many years of using food to comfort myself, as well as the last few years of diet mentality that had been taking over my life. And the point was made that even if you master the IE techniques, you will never become a "perfect" eater, because no one is. Almost everyone overeats once in a while; a lot of people occasionally eat for emotional reasons. But they don't do it all the time, and they don't berate themselves and consider themselves bad, morally bereft people because of it. And it doesn't make them spiral into binge eating.

I've also read that it can take a long time for your body to recover from the deprivation caused by long-term dieting. In the "Intuitive Eating" book they explain that when the body is faced with long term calorie restriction it creates a "primal hunger," which creates a drive in the body to eat everything in sight, because it has recognized starvation conditions and is instinctively trying to prevent death. This doesn't go away immediately; in the famous World War II study it took their test subjects months to recover normal eating habits, and that was only after a few months of restricting. I've been doing it for the majority of three years.

Of course, I'm not totally writing this off as an involuntary drive that was completely out of my control. Over the course of the day I tried my best to chip through the "eat, eat, eat" chant in my brain to get at the feelings coursing underneath. I know it was a stressful week at work and I was sick with a cold and dealing with my time of the month of top of it. And Saturday was the final straw: I was nervous for my daughter who was having her big dance recital, and I was stressing trying to get her ready and at the auditorium in time. And my husband was stressing me out with a situation that really had no bearing on our relationship, but on dealing with other people. It was making me anxious because I knew what my husband was doing would upset these other people, some of whom I deal with regularly, and I just knew I would somehow wind up getting stuck in the middle of it. And Lord knows I can't stand upsetting people and having them angry at me.

So I was stressed, anxious, depleted, and tired. I was afraid of dealing with other people's anger and rejection. Those old feelings of deprivation were running wild, and even though I realize now that I felt deprived from rest and relaxation and nurturing, I focused only on being deprived of food. It didn't matter that I kept telling myself "You're not being deprived anymore! You can eat whatever you want, whenever you want. Just stop when you're full." But that little wild child inside of me didn't want to hear the word "stop" in any shape or form. So I binged.

Today I'm a little remorseful about it, a little worried about weight gain and my clothes not fitting. But I realize that even though I don't like the binge, it has its usefulness. Now that I'm aware of what I need to look for, I was able to use this binge to get to the bottom of what I'm really feeling underneath the top layers of deprivation and rebellion. I'm starting to learn what the real problems are and what I really need to focus on in my life. And even though I didn't win the battle this time, I'm gathering more information, more insight, and hopefully next time I'll be more prepared and have more strategies in place to take care of myself in other ways than eating.

And the good news is, I didn't get on the scale this morning to asses the damage. The numbers at this point are irrelevant to the mental and emotional progress I'm making, and I don't want to add insult to injury by focusing on a number instead of what I've learned.

On a good note, my daughter kicked a** yesterday at her recital! She is such a talented gymnast, and I was so proud of her I nearly burst. I brought her a bouquet of flowers after her routine and I could tell she was really pleased. Today we're continuing her celebration by taking her to the matinee to see Shrek 3. But right now I need to go shower for church. Hope everyone has a good Sunday!

Just A Muffin

Still fighting whatever it is I have-- I'm still not sure if it's a cold or allergies. But my throat's better today, which is good.

A few minutes ago I did what up until, oh, today, was the unthinkable: I walked away from a half eaten double chocolate muffin, one of my current favorite foods to "indulge" (i.e. binge) on when I'm "bad." I'm still kind of amazed and dazed by it. But I really paid attention to my body, and halfway through I knew I had eaten enough to satisfy me.

It was almost like someone else was steering the controls as I watched myself put the muffin down on the table and walk away. I am a charter member of the Clean Your Plate Club, so to leave something behind is working against a behavior I've had since childhood.

I purposely didn't throw the rest of the muffin away, pour dish soap on it, etc., because that would have smacked of diet mentality to me. Besides the fact that I can't stand the thought of "wasting" food, tossing it or soaping it makes me think I've done something wrong by eating it and I'm now either hiding or destroying the evidence. Knowing that I can go back and finish the muffin when I'm hungry again was half the reason why I could walk away.

I feel kind of silly posting about eating half a muffin, but this simple act is revolutionary to me. Before IE, this muffin probably would have been the start of a binge that would last the rest of the day, even the rest of the weekend. The following Monday morning I would promise myself I'd never buy those muffins again, declaring them evil and off limits. But of course, a few weeks or months down the line, after a lot more dieting and deprivation, I would be driven to buy them once again. Now, it's just a muffin.

Yesterday in my comments, Tree Lover asked, "Are you sure you have only been at this IE thing for a few weeks? Every time I read your blog I am amazed by your insights."

I may have only been following IE for a few weeks, but the truth is I've been reading about it for at least 15 years. Each time I'd read another book I would nod my head, intellectually getting what the author was trying to say. But each time I was nowhere near ready to put it into practice. Before I lost my weight I was still too dependent on the eating and shut down to my emotions and body signals, and when I was dieting I kept telling myself "When I lose xx more pounds, then maybe I could try this as maintenance." (If I've posted this before, I apologize for repeating myself)

I suppose I could compare it to the way my weight loss happened; I had tried to lose weight several times before, but in 2004 all the elements came together and clicked, and I shed the weight. Of course, as you know, by 2007 I'd dieted myself into a diet/binge cycle. I hate to say that it was this series of events that made everything click for me with IE, because I certainly wouldn't recommend everyone mess up their heads with dieting in order to "get" IE. But I suppose in my case I did need to "hit bottom," so to speak, to reach that desperation level when I knew I had to find another way to deal with eating and food.

But the most crucial thing I've learned in the last couple weeks is this: the actual food we eat is truly secondary. This is all about our bodies and minds. So many of us learn to shut down our emotions and ignore what our bodies are trying to tell us. I definitely have, and I'm learning a lot of the why and how of that through Karen Koenig's "The Food & Feelings Workbook." Every time I pick it up I think, "Yep, that happened to me," or "Oh yeah, I do that all the time." And best of all, I'm learning how to work through these issues and replace all the screwy beliefs in my head to more rational and nurturing ones.

Do I still have my fears and doubts? Yeah, sometimes. I'm still holding on to some concerns about gaining weight, although they are decreasing. I'm realizing more and more that my sanity is more important to me than my clothing size, and this is the only way I know of that I can find that sanity when it comes to food and eating. While I'm still proud of the weight I've lost, I'm getting more and more comfortable with the idea of being content where I am. All the books I've read say that if you follow IE you will most likely lose pounds and get to your "natural" weight, whatever that may be. However, I'm not going to hang all my hopes on that possibility. If I would happen to lose weight, so be it. But it's going to be much more of an accomplishment to me when I can reach the day when I can't remember the last time I binged. Now that would be truly wonderful.

A Glimmer of Hope

I have to tell you about this afternoon.

I ate my lunch and was overcome by this need to eat candy/junk food, and I was on a mission of sorts until I did. But the damage was minimal -- half a candy bar, half a pecan turtle we saved from last week's trip to Kennywood, and four 0reos -- and surprisingly, my urge to binge just fizzled right out, and I have no desire to continue it.

Why? Good question. Maybe because during it I did the following things: 1. Gave myself permission to eat what I wanted; 2. Savored each bite; 3. Thought long and hard about why this was happening; and 4. Knew there was no deadline (i.e., I didn't think "I better eat as much as I can today, because it's back to the diet tomorrow")

Still working out #3. It's funny how my brain sort of went blank and it all turned into primal urges to eat. I wanted the sensations, flavors and textures of food in my mouth. I didn't want to think about any rules, including any IE principles of checking in with my fullness. Was it because it was a Friday, the end of a long week, and that mindless eating was my "reward" for surviving it? Nothing seriously bad happened to trigger any big emotions. There were no fights or run-ins with friends or family, no major crises at work. The house is clean and the puppies are behaving themselves.

And maybe because I went through this laundry list and realized there was no good reason for me to binge, I realized I didn't need to. So it stopped.

I'm telling you, it was an amazing moment. It was like really getting into a good album at top volume, and all of a sudden the power goes out and the record player just slows to a stop. I kind of looked around, confused, wondering what happened. I even went into the kitchen, looking to see if anything else might appeal to me (old habits!) and I said out loud, "No, I've had enough."

It was a powerful statement. I didn't say it because I knew I was exceeding my calories for the day. I didn't say it because I was worried about the scale reading tomorrow. I said it because my body was telling me I had enough food in my system and I didn't need anymore.

Is this what "normal" eaters feel? It's so sad I have to ask that, but for almost 30 years I just haven't had a clue.

I really think this is working. I have tears in my eyes right now because I feel a real glimmer of hope that I'm beginning to heal. To recover. It's an amazing thing.

Scale Back

I've been exploring the 'net and finding new resources and blogs about Intuitive Eating. A reoccurring theme I'm finding from a lot of people is having trouble letting go of the diet mentality.

I know I'm one of them. The scale, for one thing. I'm still weighing in a lot, and although the news has been good -- great, even -- I'm starting to fully realize how much of a compulsive habit it's become. It's become an anxiety-reducing measure I've adopted, because when I don't do it I start getting nervous, and I start thinking, "I don't know where I am!"

Very telling. The scale has become my Global Positioning System, and the numbers on it are different locations in my life. Life was very different when I lived at 310, and it's a location I really don't want to move back into. The scenery was pretty bleak gloomy. While life in the 210s has been very satisfying, you know the old saying: "the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence." I can't help but drive by that exclusive neighborhood called the One Hundreds, admiring the landscape and dreaming of moving in permanently. Even though I'm living right on the border of that Promised Land, I'm still looking in from the outside.

That's the mentality I have to get rid of. Almost, but not quite good enough. It doesn't do me any good to think that way, when there's really absolutely nothing wrong with where I am. I'm like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, who needs to be taught "there's no place like home." That magical land of Onederful may be all alluring in brilliant Technicolor from where I stand, but if my house lands smack in the middle of it one day, will it feel hollow and empty? There are no happy endings there; you still have to deal with the wicked witches, con man wizards and those freaky flying monkeys. (Those things scared the bejesus out of me when I was little!)

Yesterday I felt myself teetering on the edge of the IE/dieting fence. One good thing has been a lessening of my fear of certain foods and a renewed interest in cooking. It's helped that Hubby has been at baseball games every night this week, forcing me back into the kitchen.

Last night I dragged out one of my favorite recipes that I revamped -- it's called Texas Caviar and is basically a cold bean salsa/salad that includes balsamic vinegar and cilantro. I haven't made it in ages because beans became one of my no-no foods. Even though I knew beans were full of protein and fiber and other good nutrients, I stayed away because of the calories. So it was with great pleasure that I opened up those cans of black beans and put it together. My mom came over for supper to help me eat it (she is a huge balsamic fan and a semi-vegetarian), and I told her we could either serve it over a salad, put it in a tortilla wrap or eat it with some of my Trader Joe's veggie flax seed tortilla chips. Mom opted for the chips, so we got out the bag and I took out the recommended serving to eat with my beans.

I ate that, then sat there and realized I wanted more. Here came the anxiety. Chips are pretty much a universal trigger food; what if I can't stop? But I shook those thoughts off and took out three more chips (they're big), ate those, then stopped and checked in again. And I felt good, satisfied, so I stopped.

Later I started thinking about those snack cakes I bought on Tuesday. They kept floating through my mind, and each time I checked in with my body. Since I wasn't hungry, I kept shooing the thought away, saying to myself, "Let's revisit this in half an hour." Finally, at 7:45, I got one out -- leaving the box in the pantry -- then sat down and slowly ate one of the snack cakes. I had to tell myself to enjoy it and push out the guilt of eating "bad" foods or the fear of bingeing. I did savor it, and when I was done I wasn't driven to go attack the rest of the box. I didn't feel terrible, I didn't want to overeat, and I wasn't worrying about the scale the next morning. I was okay.

So here I am where I started -- the scale. I know in the back of my mind this object has become a crutch to me, and there are times that its reading will definitely alter my mood, which means I am giving it too much power. While I realize I eventually need to start scaling back on weighing myself, giving myself grief about it is falling right back into that all-or-nothing, perfectionist mentality. So I'll get there when I'm good and ready. Because I am discovering the easier I am on myself, the better I feel, and I wind up taking better care of myself than when I'm "shoulding" all over the place.

Tough Love

I don't really want to write on the blog today, which I know is a bad sign, so I'm forcing myself to do it. This may sound weird, but it's my own version of tough love: if I don't write, i.e., work out what's going on in my head right now, if I stuff it down and don't express it somewhere, it will get buried in a mountain of food. I will wake up a month from now 20 pounds heavier and full of remorse.

I really fell hard into the food the last two days. I'm getting really, really tired of this, but at the same time I don't seem to be able to turn it off. This is a cop-out, and I know it. I know all the ways to prevent this from happening: relaxation techniques, exercising, exploring the feelings behind it, working through the cravings, toughing out the temporary discomfort of not following through and letting them pass. But I'm just being lazy and taking the easy way out -- eating.

I also know I'm delving into self-flagellating when I use words like cop-out and lazy. It doesn't help to criticize and call myself names. But it's hard not to be disappointed in myself when I know I can do something yet I make the choice not to. And there was choice there. At any time over the weekend I could have told myself "STOP. Now." Yet I didn't.

What scares me the most is when the drive to eat kicks in and I do lose some sense of control. My body and brain disconnect somehow; no matter how much I consume I don't seem to feel any sense of satisfaction or fullness.

I know on Saturday I was feeling anxiety. And I did try to hold off the Eat Mode a couple times throughout the day. In the morning I remember chanting to myself in my head, "I can eat whatever I want, so I don't need to eat it ALL." This was my attempt to alleviate some of the deprivation anxiety that I knew was brewing. In the afternoon I tried to get myself involved in house cleaning, hoping it would be a distraction, a physical release to release some of that tension. For a while it worked, but as soon as I was done, the eating thoughts came flooding back in.

On Sunday I wanted to turn it around. I got Mabel and myself to church, then she and her dad went off to a Fishing Derby for the rest of the day. Then in the afternoon my Mom and I went to visit a friend of ours who is housebound after surgery on his leg and foot. I knew these were good things, positive things, and I hoped it would make me feel better and lessen the grip the eating had on me. Instead I just ate before and after these events. Then we had dinner out with the in-laws (because I'm pretty sure if we didn't have a meal with them on a Sunday the Earth would crack in two), and by that point my body had finally broken through the wall my brain built up and announced, "Hello, we're stuffed full down here! Enough!" And I wound up bringing half of my supper home with me.

So here I am, full of remorse and down on myself. But as I write all this down, as I go back and look back at my activities, I realize that I wasn't lazy. Both days I tried enacting ways to pull the reins in on my eating. They weren't all that successful, in fact, not very successful at all. But at least I did try. I did try to observe my feelings both before and during the eating. I tried to find ways and activities to try to get me away from the eating.

I have a quote tacked on to my bulletin board at work that says "There is no shame in failure -- only in quitting." So at least I can say I'm not a quitter. Got to keep looking for the good things.

The Brownie Oath

My daughter has to memorize an Oath for Brownies. I've come up with my own version:
"On my honor, I will try
to avoid brownies and other binge foods,
to help keep my weight under control
and to live a long, healthy life."

My husband called in sick yesterday because he felt nauseous and fevered. This was actually a positive for me because I had to get my newsletter done, and it meant I could stay at work later and not rush home to let the puppies out.

However. When I did get home at 2, I walked into the Torture Chamber -- the house freakin' reeked of fresh baked brownies!

"What did you do???" I looked at him in horror. He replied he was craving them and decided to whip up a batch. ( I later noticed that he also baked a rising-dough pizza and ate 3/4 of that, too. I guess the nausea had passed.)

"Are you trying to torture me, or make sure I'm massively obese forever?" I queried, then stopped and shook my head. "Scratch that. I know you weren't even thinking about me when you made them."

Here's the rub. While I'm glad I said it, I knew it didn't get across like it should have. On the surface I was saying I knew he didn't bake the brownies to intentionally sabotage me. But on the other hand, I wish he would think about something other than his cravings -- namely, some consideration for me. I have been very vocal about getting myself back on track this week, but apparently that didn't come up in his mind as he baked these little binge bombs.

Last night I managed to stay away from them, but it was horribly tough. I wound up getting one of my Vitalicious VitaBrownies out of the freezer and ate that instead. I figured I'd at least get some fiber and nutrients, and it did keep me from attacking the unhealthy ones.

This morning, though, I was still haunted by those damn little things. So as Hubby was heading out the door I handed him the brownie container and said, "You don't have to give these away, but keep them in your truck or something, because I can't have them in the house. If they're here I won't just eat one, I'll eat all of them. It's an illness." I don't know how I could have gotten more succinct about it.

Hubby was fine with this request, and when I brought up the word illness, he replied, "Hey, I'm the one who made them," insinuating he's the one with the illness. He then got very revealing and said, "If I could find a good hypnotist, I'd go to one. Every night I think to myself I have to do something, and every day it doesn't happen."

God bless him, I've certainly been there, and it's hard. I wish I could give him a pill, a book, a plan that would give him the magical "click" that happens when it all falls into place. Like I've said before, if I had that I'd be a billionaire. But the truth is, I've even had the "click" and it can still go away and be very difficult to recapture.

My de-bloating slowed down a lot this morning, which makes me believe what's left is what I actually gained over my blow-out. Pretty depressing, because I basically wiped out a whole winter's hard work in what, 10 days, two weeks?

It's difficult not to think, "Why bother? I bust my hump for four months and I'm right where I started!" But let's face hard facts-- if I hadn't stayed vigilant this past winter I could have easily gained 20, 30, even 40 pounds. That sounds extreme but I know my past history. So I basically wound up maintaining my loss from the end of December. That's an accomplishment in itself, in my eyes.

Of course, I'm still in the middle of my TOTM, so I could still have some water retention hanging on and the actual regain isn't as bad as I think. Even though it's Friday I am fully motivated to stay on track this weekend because of that Monday doctor's appointment. I am bound and determined to not be horrified and ashamed when the nurse weighs me in, so there's simply no other option than to stay mindful. As of right now I don't have any parties or events going on to tempt me, although I doubt I can escape the Sunday dinner with the in-laws. Such is life.

What Happened???

I'm not sure what's happening, but suddenly, I'm better.

I'm not gripped with the simmering anger, I'm not bursting into tears. And the biggest sign of all? I'm cleaning the house. Last night I went around and swept with the broom, scrubbed down the kitchen sink and counters, and stuck our nasty stove burner covers into the oven and did the self-cleaning thing (it seems to be the only way to get that really burned on gunk off). I packed up the Easter decorations and took them upstairs to put them back in the attic.

And this morning, although I felt tired at first and slept in a little bit, skipping my hour cardio, I then did my 20-minute Pilates tape. Then I found myself starting a load of laundry and vacuuming the downstairs! And as I was leaving I was already planning my afternoon, when I intend to attack the den and clean it thoroughly. Cleaning, dear? Who, dear? Me, dear? Yes, dear! (My tribute to Catherine Tate and her character Derek Faye. Can you believe I have my husband and daughter quoting this character?)

This can't all be attributed to hormones. But as soon as my period started, voila, I'm feeling human again. Today, for the first time in a couple weeks, I really and truly feel back in the groove. Several of us bloggers talk about the balancing game we play between the desire to eat and the desire to lose weight. If our desire for doughnuts outweighs our desire to fit in a size 10 dress, all the diet plans and exercise routines, all the self-help books and friendly advice in the world won't help.

For the past two weeks my need to eat -- overeat, oh, let's face it, binge -- had taken over any wish to reach 199 pounds. I was sick to death of cottage cheese and steamed vegetables, I wanted bread and cheese crackers and pasta and lots and lots of Easter candy. And by God, nothing was going to stand in my way until I got it.

It's really like I've woken up from some insane dream and realizing I'm back in reality, or that I'm coming off the effects of some crazy drugs and wondering what in the hell happened to me.

So, am I really back in the proper balance? I'm still sick of cottage cheese and haven't touched it the last couple days. But honestly, I've eaten so much of the stuff in the past two years it isn't surprising I'm tired of it. And I did have some chocolate and pasta (albeit whole wheat) yesterday, but measured portions of it, and no seconds. At supper time especially I felt no need to eat until I was full; I ate my portions, wasn't interested in any more and walked away from the table.

I'm not going to question or debate it too much. If I feel good, I'm running with it. My biggest concern, however, is that this is hormonal, and that in two weeks I'm going to be utterly out of control again with PMS. I am definitely going to be very observant this next month, and if this cycle repeats, I am calling the OB/GYN pronto and telling him this just won't do. Which is a shame, because up until this point I've been pretty happy with the new birth control pill, and I'd hate to have to switch again.

All right, I've got lots to do and the energy to do it, so I best go do it.

Tagalongs, Chicken Skin and Muffins

Talk about torture: we picked up Mabel's Girl Scout cookies last night. We spent a good bit of time sorting out all the orders, then delivered a few orders before the weather got too nasty. Mabel insisted we open the box of the sugar free brownies, their newest cookie, and I tried them and they weren't bad at all. I stuck with the suggested portion size and it's enough to satisfy your chocolate needs. And I never opened my box of Tagalongs.

Honestly, I wasn't as tortured as I thought I'd be with all those cookies in the house. I guess knowing that Monday-Friday overeating is verboten and knowing I can have them this weekend is enough to keep the urges at bay.

So maybe the weekend eating, at least for now, serves its purpose. It at least gives me five days of healthy eating a week, which was something I couldn't do... I was going to say for the past two winters. But let's face it, it's more like the majority of my life. But I do agree with Lori and would like to eventually reduce that to one day a week. I think that's a good long-term goal to shoot for.

I did not feel well at all yesterday afternoon and evening. I had all kind of plans for the afternoon and wound up napping that away. I perked up some for the evening, but I still felt ill, and at one point a little lightheaded. I'm pretty sure I've just been pushing myself too hard -- I'm only about halfway through my antibiotics and getting over a serious infection. So I got a good night's sleep and trying to slow down my hectic pace a little.

I think not feeling well yesterday also made me a little sloppy with supper last night. The vegetables were pretty safe -- how bad can you be with plain steamed carrots, broccoli and cauliflower? But Hubby baked some little chicken thighs -- I'm talking teeny, like pygmy chickens, maybe 1.5 ounces of meat each -- but the majority had the skin left on. The first thigh I took was the only one without skin. The second had skin but I gave it to my daughter, who loves it and can easily burn it off with her constant fidgeting and cartwheels. Then I took a third one, Mabel was full, so I went ahead and ate it with the skin.

Then something weird happened. Hubby started laughing. At me. For eating chicken with the skin on it.

I did not handle this well. I got defensive and told him I didn't appreciate him using his "mocking" laugh (believe me, he's got different laughs -- the laugh out loud guffaw at a funny joke, his naughty laugh when he's feeling frisky, and then there's the mocking one when he's finding amusement in someone else's mistake or flaw. Early on in the family relationship Mabel picked up on this habit of his and would proclaim in her dramatic way, "You enjoy the misery of others!" Just last weekend he unleashed it on his own mother when she said "prostrate cancer" instead of "prostate.").

He made some comment like "I enjoy watching you eat," which I translated as "I enjoy watching you fattening yourself up," and I was even more irritated. I felt like he was basking in the victory of sabotaging me with chicken skin and it made me angry. But I got over it -- after calling him on it (gone are the days of holding it in) -- and went on with my evening.

I'm not sure if I was reading into the whole event and made it much more than it was (which is probably what he would have told me if I pushed the issue). But thinking about it now, I wonder if it made him feel better to see me eating chicken skin since his "diet" has really crumbled in the last couple weeks. It's easier to be "bad" when someone's being "bad" with you. He ate eight thighs, by the way, and ate the skin on all of them.

And I don't think he's out on some deliberate mission to derail me. He's the one who made the steamed veggies, and let's not forget those tasty muffins on Sunday. By the way, I did some calculating today and figured out that the batch we made averaged out to 150-170 calories a muffin, because we substituted some items and he made smaller muffins (20 instead of the suggested 15). The actual recipe is more like 220-230 calories per muffin. But the things are packed with healthy stuff, and one muffin, even a small one, is quite filling and makes a great breakfast.

The recipe came from the back of the Flaxseed Meal bag (thanks to Bob's Red Mill, by the way!), and I'm going to include the changes we made in parentheses:

Bob's Red Mill Bran Flax Muffins
1 1/2 c. unbleached white flour
3/4 c. flaxseed meal
3/4 c. oat bran
1 c. brown sugar [this adds a lot of calories and I'm going to ask Hubby how we can alter this recipe to reduce that]
2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
2 tsp. cinnamon
1 1/2 carrots, shredded
2 apples, peeled and shredded
1/2 c. raisins (optional -- we used dried blueberries-- this added a good bit of calories too)
1 c. nuts, chopped (he used pecans -- also adds a lot of calories -- I think if we make these again I'll reduce this amount to 1/2 c.)
3/4 c. milk (he used fat-free)
2 eggs, beaten (Hubby ran out of eggs so he used 1 "real," 1 egg substitute -- next time I'll do egg sub. for both)
1 tsp. vanilla

Mix together flour, Bob's Red Mill Flaxseed Meal, oat bran, brown sugar, baking soda, baking powder, salt and cinnamon in a large bowl. Stir in carrots, apples, raisins (if desired) and nuts. Combine milk, beaten eggs and vanilla. Pour liquid ingredients into dry ingredients. Stir until ingredients are moistened. Do not over mix. Fill muffin cups 3/4 full. Bake at 350 F for 15-20 minutes. Yields 15 medium muffins.

If any of you healthy cooks out there have some other ideas for me to reduce the calories (especially the sugar), let me know. I know there's a brown sugar/sugar substitute blend for baking, but I wonder if it really cuts a lot of calories. And I don't know if replacing it entirely with a sugar substitute would work. Any ideas would be appreciated.

Miss Worst Case Scenario

What a short warm spell we had. We're now back to the nasty weather. Cold, windy, snowy. I'm back in my long johns and two pairs of socks. Schools were cancelled again.

The bad weather coerced me into staying in bed this morning. But I redeemed myself by shoveling snow before I left for work. I'm really hungry this morning, although now that I've eaten my Cocoa Via bar, I feel a little better.

This whole week has been so darn difficult. Nothing was all that terrible; even the little annoyances weren't all that annoying. I just don't feel like I can muster up the enthusiasm for anything. Especially eating healthy. It's typical of my annual winter depression, which I was hoping to avoid, but the best I can hope for is to minimize the effects.

You know, I went for an x-ray on my neck yesterday for my 6-month appointment with my neurology surgeon on Monday, and it reminded me that I never posted on here that my mammography results came back normal. Whatever bumps I have in my lumps (sorry, I channeled the Black Eyed Peas there) don't appear to be of any concern. I'm not sure if anyone reading here even remembered about this, but I didn't want to leave that storyline hanging.

The good thing about having to get these x-rays is that I get to take them with me for the doctor's appointment. I love looking at these pictures, especially now that I've got what looks like a DYI fix-it project in my neck. The first time my hubby ever saw the x-rays he cringed at the big bracket and screws that now keep my head attached to my body. I love telling people, "I went to get my head examined yesterday to see if I have any screws loose!"

I suppose in the grand scheme of things I should be thrilled that I'm walking and shoveling and able to go control my bladder. In the days before the surgery I was terrified of having a fall or car accident and exacerbating the bone spurs in my vertebra, which would have caused spinal cord damage. Not to mention worrying that I wouldn't survive the surgery or have terrible complications from it (just call me Miss Worst Case Scenario). Everything went great, and most days I don't even think about my neck anymore.

What I've been thinking about this week is the bloat I can't seem to get rid of, and the cravings that won't go away. I'm beginning to sound like a broken record, but I have no confidence at all in tomorrow's weigh in. I would be shocked not to see a gain tomorrow. It's not that I've been binge eating all week; other than Wednesday evening I did well, I think. And it's not that I've been a lazy slug; I exercised four times this week and shoveled snow this morning, on top of the extra housework I'm doing to get ready for our Asian new year party. I know this sounds stupid, but I don't feel like I've lost anything; if anything, I feel fatter than ever.

This makes no sense, and I know that. Because when I look at myself in the mirror I think I look OK. In fact, I think I'm looking pretty good. So why do I feel enormous? Maybe it's all the layers of clothing I'm forced to wear in these bitter temperatures. Maybe it's due to TTOM.

All I know is, it's going to take all my strength to not start slipping up today. With the family home from school and the cold firing up my desire for comfort foods, I can feel my resolve weakening. I really don't want to: I've made this Monday-Friday rule for myself, and I don't like breaking it. Because once I start breaking one rule, then it's a second, third, and before you know it I'm out of control.

Besides, I don't want to screw up tomorrow's weigh in! Because I have to post it here, and I don't want my disappointing results plastered on the Internet. I guess that's a minor reason, but at least it's some kind of accountability I've created for myself.

I have a lot of housecleaning to do today, so I'll do my best to use that to keep me busy. My goal is to stay mindful and really stay in tune with my body. And if I do mess up? I'll just have to face the consequences and learn my lessons from it.

The Queen of Indulgences

Well, I survived Valentine's Day. Hubby was very sweet and had half a dozen roses sent to my office. When I got home there was more in store: two cards (he always gets me one funny one and one mushy one), ear muffs like his that I had been coveting, the box of peanut butter meltaways, and a pair of beautiful earrings with pearls and little teeny diamonds. That wasn't all: he helped Mabel get me a cute card and a necklace with three pink topaz hearts. "They stand for me, you and Daddy," she told me. Very, very sweet.

And let me tell you I never opened the candy and put them away in the spare bedroom closet where they will be out of sight until the weekend.

I have to confess here that I did a bad thing. When it came to my Valentine's gift for Hubby, I behaved; I got him the wooden tool box he had been drooling over (to put his fly tying paraphernalia in), and since he's on his low-carb diet, a couple containers of smokehouse almonds. But when I took Mabel shopping, she wanted to get Daddy something sweet, candy or cookies. She wound up picking out the double stuffed Ore0s, his favorite cookie. When she was picking them out I tried to tell her that Daddy's on his diet and his next free days aren't until next weekend, so it was kind of mean to give him sweet stuff. Her reply? "Aw, come on, it's Valentine's Day, give him permission to eat them!"

I love the fact that she thinks I'm the diet disciplinarian in the house. The Queen of Indulgences: I sit on my throne and decide who can eat junk food and when. In a way it's true; when it comes to Mabel I do make the rules about eating healthy food first, and then having a treat. She must assume I should take on the same responsibility with Daddy.

I did have the power to tell her no, no cookies for Daddy. But I didn't. I let her get them for him, and when she gave them to him yesterday, he couldn't stop himself and ate some. But after a few he pushed them away and said if he didn't stop he'd eat them all. So I packed them up and hid them with my candy.

Was I giving him a little bit of his own medicine by doing this? A little revenge for all the temptations he waves under my nose? In some passive aggressive way I think I did, and I'm not very proud of it. I did do my best to try and redeem myself by helping him hide them, but they really shouldn't have been in the house in the first place.

As for the rest of the day, again I really struggled with the food. At supper I ate more vegetables than I really should have: caramelized shallots that tasted like heaven, and an Au gratin spaghetti squash that Hubby made and wasn't crazy about, but I liked it. He used some of my Egg Beaters, a little parmesan, some Dijon mustard and some low fat buttermilk, and I really liked it. A little too much. I find myself trying to rationalize this behavior because it's vegetables and not meat or bread, but I still ate until I was full, not simply satisfied.

And once again I hit my dark chocolate stash. Like last night it was a controlled portion, 4 pieces of my Special Dark miniatures and about 200 calories total, but it still felt like I was teetering on the edge of oblivion.

As for exercise, it was below zero with the wind chills this morning and I chickened out on going out to my treadmill or bike. I did the stability ball again, and then I busted my hump big time shoveling a path from the house to my car. The snow was heavy and deep, and by the time I came back inside to get Mabel, I was panting and sweated through. So although I feel guilty about not getting myself out to work out, I know I'm still getting some physical activity in other ways.

I don't feel good about my impending weigh in on Saturday, though. Like last week, I feel like I'm not putting in enough exercise, but this week the food has been a lot sloppier. It's my PMS week on my new pills, so maybe that has something to do with it. Along with the time of year, the horrible weather, the chocolate-laden holiday, dealing with my and Mabel's illnesses. If I'm lucky I'll maintain again, but I wouldn't be shocked if it was up a pound or two. I don't know, because once again I've not been weighing myself daily. I'll just have to wait until Saturday and see what happens.

Could it be the lack of weighing that's leading me to sloppy eating? Because I don't have that number floating in my head every morning, maybe I'm not as driven to resist the urges to overeat? It's an interesting thought.

I'm on call all day today waiting for the Sears guy to come and do yearly maintenance on my exercise bike. It's bad enough that you're told they're coming sometime between 8 a.m. and 4:30 p.m., but in my case the bike is still in the garage at the old house, so it makes it even more complicated. The guy is supposed to call me on the cell phone when he's on his way, and he better, or this is going to be one major screw-up. Oh well, just add it to the list of other screwed up things.

I Went Down to the Crossroads

I feel almost ashamed to put another day on my total. I did so badly today, with no other excuse than to say I want to stuff myself, so I did. Again, Thursday and Friday I did fine, although I didn't get to the gym Friday because a) I had to cook breakfast at the B&B and b) Mabel was sick the night before and I got no sleep, so I was also very tired.

I can't keep doing this "two days good/one day bad" routine. I can feel it derailing my momentum, not only on the weight loss aspect but mentally, too. I guess I've finally reached my first real crossroads in this journey -- 115 days and 53 pounds later! It would devastate me to give up now that the going's getting a little tougher, not after all that I've accomplished. Analyzing the situation, I know that there are two major things contributing to it -- the plethora of events/temptations bombarding me these past few weeks, and an increase in stress in my life. The picnics, parties and other food related gatherings are so hard to turn away from. Business has picked up at the B&B, and I'm semi-flitootzed (Pa. Dutch slang there) about lingering problems from my last job and waiting to hear about the new one.

I am very concerned that stress, even the small amounts I've encountered recently, have been making my determination to stick to this plan falter so. It's apparent that I still haven't been able to master my stress, and clearly food is still the main drug of choice to medicate myself for it.

Here's what I think I need to do, starting tomorrow: 1. Get back to my routine as soon as possible. 2. Make a real effort to start incorporating yoga back into my day. 3. Crack open my meditation book and work self-reflection time into my day. 4. Crack open the books that helped to inspire me early on in this journey.

It's time to get serious about this and not fall back into my dysfunctional ways. I am bound and determined not to fail. Irregardless of the weight loss, I have to stop letting stress get the best of me and quit letting food be the answer.

You're My Obsession

Man, what a hard week it's been! For some reason it's been really hard to fight the urges to binge, and although I thought I did really well last night when I went to the pizza place with JB, I've just felt all week like I'm faltering, and a lot of that is because the scale hasn't dropped at all.

I think one reason this week hasn't gone well for me mentally was because it's been a hectic one, and although it hasn't been extremely stressful, it's still more than I've had lately, and it's really clear that without my unchecked eating to comfort me, I'm definitely feeling the strain.

I may also be hitting my first real plateau, and it may be time to kick up the exercise another notch, because I don't really want to decrease my current food intake any more than I am right now. My average day falls between 1300-1500 calories, which is just enough to keep me from feeling really deprived. And I should not be having a major anxiety attack over eating four bites of Mabel's soft pretzel at the school musical tonight! This is ridiculous, and I really think I'm getting way too obsessive about all of this. It's unrealistic to think I'm going to keep losing weight as fast as I was, and I'm getting perilously close to the old feelings of "poor me" and that this is all a punishment. Clearly this is a major crossroads time for me, and what happens in the next few days -- which contain several temptations -- will determine if I can continue into the long term.

And I think part of that long term and its success is taking some of the pressure off of me. I think the first step is to stop weighing myself so often. I've been doing it daily, and it's definitely controlling my mood, usually in a bad way. I need to literally hide the damn scale in a closet and out of sight so I quit judging myself by what it says. I also think I need to forbid myself to calculate calorie totals in my head, because I'm getting way too worked up over my daily totals and if I'm over or under. I know what healthy foods and portion sizes are, and I need to focus on that instead of numbers and forbidding "bad" foods.

While these steps will probably wind up slowing down my weight loss, I have to realize that it's the only way it's going to actually happen. Better that it take two years than never.

The new plan is to focus more on the exercise -- commit to more walking yoga and even swimming. I also need to quit obsessing about this, because in the meantime my housework and B&B chores are suffering. So I need to buckle down with FlyLady and try to re-establish my missions and weekly home blessings.

The sad thing is, I want to get to a lower weight on the scale before I take a "break" and not use it daily. Is that pathetic or what? Maybe tomorrow I'll get lucky, but what if I don't? I wish I could find better ways of validating myself and measuring my success.