Fake It 'till You Make It

The fact that I have a blog called "Food: My Drug of Choice" tells you I have an obsession with food, weight, and everything in between... making the story I'm about to tell you seem even more odd.

Earlier this week, one of my co-worker/friends asked me if I had noticed she was losing weight.  Before even answering the question she responded, "I know, I know - you don't notice those kinds of things."  My thought, What?  I don't notice those kind of things?  haha, I don't notice those kind of things?  I notice if a person puts on or takes off half of a pound, so when my friend loses 7 pounds - I promise I notice.

But since moving and making a new set of friends I've been "faking it."  I say I exercise because it makes me handle stress.  I say I eat when I'm hungry and stop when I'm not.  I say I don't count calories or weigh myself.  I say the key is to eating what you feel like eating.  I guess you can call it lies, but really it's the person I want to be.  I'm faking to so I can make it.

I don't want to talk about eating too much and gaining too much weight - it feeds into my addiction.  Instead, I want to be a new person - I want to be a person that doesn't obsess, that is just confident in the way I look, the way I feel.  So that's who I'm pretending to be, with the hope that I'll eventually get there.

Triumph Over a Tub of Ice Cream

My days have been pretty much the same over the last week - snacking until I feel like I'm going to explode. Today it was the same old story. After lunch I grabbed a Klondike bar. It was good, but not crunchy and salty. For my crunchy/salty fix I needed something else. I returned to the cabinet for Doritos. After one lunch-sized bag I grabbed a second. My start-over day, my Monday was on the verge of turning into another binge-day.

So naturally, I returned to the kitchen with my mind full of thoughts of ice cream, caramel and chocolate sauce. I grabbed the tub of ice cream and put it on the counter. I then opened the fridge to grab the caramel on the bottom shelf. As I reached down something stopped me. [press play on clip below for soundtrack of the next moment... story continues below]



... something stronger than the urge to binge stopped me as I reached for the caramel. I dropped my arm, stood back up and turned toward the menacing ice cream. I grabbed it, but this time without the intention of eating it. Just as quickly as my day had turned upside down I threw the tub back into the freezer, tipping it as it fell over on top of the frozen steaks. I have defeated the ice cream, for now.  I can do this and not even some not-so-great ice cream can stop me.

Have you had a dun-dun-dun-duuunnnn moment recently?  Please tell me - I need all the inspiring power-moment stories I can get!

Stress-Free To-Dos

My world seems to be spiraling out of control - well, not my entire world.  My half-marathon training is going perfectly.  Every time I hit the pavement I surprise myself, running 4 miles last weekend!  My time is getting faster and faster each time - I'm at an 11 minute-mile.

Now, here's where my world starts crumbling - the kitchen.  As I run faster, I begin throwing food in my mouth faster.  The story in the kitchen is pretty unfortunate.  I can't stay out - just eating anything and everything I can get my hands on; ice cream, Cheetos, crackers, pudding, chocolate - anything.

I've been trying to figure out why I am letting my diet get out of control.  The winner, STRESS.  I am so stressed out by my job, cooking, cleaning, getting sleep, sending out resumes... the list goes on.

A close second place, I'm afraid of being skinny.  Because I am burning so many calories with my half-marathon training my brain has apparently decided to overeat to make sure I don't lose weight.  Last week I ran a total of 10 miles and cross-trained for another hour, but somehow I gained almost 2 pounds.  Of course when I say 'somehow' I mean... by eating ice cream, cheetos and crackers.

Last month I wrote about my chocolate escape - eating to escape the reality of life.  A lot of my wonderful blog readers supporters urged me to write a list of things I could do instead of binging.  I did just that!

When something other than hunger sends me to the kitchen I will look at my 'Stress-Free To-Do' list instead.
1. write
2. dance
3. take a walk, at least to the mailbox
4. get out of the house
5. head to the gym
6. read
7. bubble bath
8. scrapbook
9. organize something

A Milestone

This weekend I celebrated a huge milestone with my husband's sponsor.  My husband's sponsor has been off drugs and alcohol for 8 years.  The celebration was awesome.  It started at an NA (narcotics anonymous) meeting where everyone sang their praises.  Next dozens of people filled a small Mexican restaurant to celebrate his "birthday."

Since the celebration I've been thinking, I want my own celebration. I want my own "birthday."  What would it feel like to rid myself of this addiction, to be clean for eight years?  I can only imagine.  I've never gone eight years without binging.  Now is the time, today is the day. 

Starting on August 23rd, 2010 I will no longer binge.  I'm taking this one day at a time, one moment at a time.  If my husband can give up pain pills for +6 months and his sponsor can give up his drugs for 8 years then I can surely give up over-eating.

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Now, to the bad news.  I gained three pounds this week.  I kind of just threw the week.  One day of binging turned into two days, two days turned into three, and before I knew it my entire week was a binge.  It was pretty upsetting.  I learned a lot though and I am ready to look forward.

As far as my goals - just know, I didn't keep one of them.
These are my goals for this week:
1. Stop obsessing about weight.  I may wait to weigh myself again until the final Summer challenge weigh in.
2. Follow the half-marathon training plan.  (one day down, just six to go)
3. Write down everything I eat
4. Don't weigh myself this week
5. Do not binge

Chocolate Escape

No stress, no work, no chores, no errands.  It's just me, the chocolate, and Bachelor Pad.  I sat in front of my TV Tuesday afternoon popping a dozen peanut butter-chocolate snacks my husband had made.  One after the other I devoured them.  When I started asking myself "Why am I doing this?"  I couldn't come up with an answer - so I continued the binge.

When I was done my stomach hurt, but still no answer.  About 30 minutes later, my chocolate coma ended...  I couldn't breathe.  I was having an anxiety attack.  My heart was beating out of my chest, I had to lean up against the wall and slide to the floor where I sat taking deep breaths.

My chocolate stupor was over, my 'high' had faded - and now only the truth was left - my anxiety.  This all has to do with work.  I've been feeling stressed because I literally have two hours of free time a day - and only a small portion of that is time I can spend with my husband.

When I was high/drunk/strung out on chocolate - whatever you want to call it - I didn't have to worry about those things.  I used chocolate as a drug on Tuesday, the same way my husband used his Lortabs.  After he went into rehab for his addiction, he confessed to me that his addiction all started with anixety.  He said the pills gave him confidence to sell cars.  He was able to go out on a limb, be in front of people, and forget the uneasiness he had felt before the pills.

I'm upset I let this happen to myself.  I'm upset my binge-free days are back down to zero.  At this point all I can do is learn from the experience.  I need to deal with anxiety in a more constructive way.  Before I stuffed my face with chocolate I didn't even realize I was anxious.  That's why I need to come up with a way to combat my work-related anxiety before it comes up again.  I need to make time for myself, time for me to at least think I'm spending my life doing more than just sleeping and working.

Any suggestions?  Is there something I can do that's just for me - something to keep me from chasing my chocolate high?

Living Life

My life revolves around food and the way I look.  Most days my thoughts are focused on how much my thighs are jiggling, or how my teeth are slowly moving inward ruining my once-perfect smile.  I think about how the dry heat is causing dandruff and wrinkles and how chocolate is the enemy.  When I look at a menu at a restaurant I mentally calculate the calories each meal would cost me.  When I try to sleep I think about how I don't have matching shoes for the outfit I want to wear tomorrow.  I know - pathetic.  I'm not sure when I got so obsessed about my image, but I think about it all the time.

This weekend I realized there is so much more to how I look, the things that matter in life are not matching earrings and high heel shoes.  It's not a size zero waist and perfect, perky boobs - the thing that matters, the one thing that I should really be thinking about all day is love, relationships, healthy, family and friends.  Sometimes my obsession with my weight and food becomes first place... pushing all the most important things about life into second, third and even fourth place.  Sometimes being skinny becomes more important than being healthy, and a small waist pushes my husband's out of the way.

This week I got to see one of my best friends marry a man she adores.  It was so awesome!  When I saw her look at her soon-to-be husband after walking down the aisle I could see so much love in her eyes.  I started crying - I had no idea I would cry.  It was just so awesome to see how much love she had for this man that she was about to marry, to see two people beginning their lives together with so much happiness.

The next day I went to the Relay for Life.  I bought a luminary for my cousin that would have turned 20 this month.  She passed away three years ago of Leukemia.  I stood by my aunt, cousin, and dozens of other people who had lost their loved ones to cancer.  We remembered the life, charisma and larger-than-life spirit my little cousin brought into our lives.  A teenager that knew her life was ending, but still enjoyed it to the fullest.

I've just been thinking about life.  Life can't begin and end with food like it does for me right now.  When I wake up I don't think about my snuggly husband lying beside me - I think about my breakfast options in the kitchen.  There have been times where I can't wait for him to go to sleep so I can binge on something delicious.

Although this is easier said than done - there needs to be some kind of balance.  I really feel if I can fix my relationship with food I'll be able to have stronger relationships with the people around me.  Since my husband quit taking pain pills he has stronger relationships with his brothers, parents and me.

My obcession addiction is keeping me from enjoying life to the fullest.  I keep telling myself life will be more fun, cooler and everything I dreamed when I lose 20 pounds.  Well, guess what - I'm sick of waiting to be 140 pounds to enjoy life.  I can enjoy life right now.  Of course I still want to lose that weight and I'm still on my way - but if life is all about the journey, then I can enjoy the journey of losing weight too, right?!  So there.  Take that, stupid 20 pounds that are trying to ruin my life.

(I'll have an update on my goals and how eating went later today!)

My Marriage is Making Me Fat

Since starting this summer challenge (and every time I start any challenge/weight loss plan/diet) my husband seems to have a hankering for junk food.  In just two days he's enticed me with cake, Marie Callender's pie, popcorn, and Ben & Jerry's (twice).  I kid you not.  I said no to everything.  He only ended up buying Ben & Jerry's and popcorn - I watched him eat both. Does he want me to stay fat forever?

When my husband went into rehab for a pain pill addiction the people at the facility advised me to go to my own meetings.  They're meetings for co-dependent spouses and family members called Nar-Anon.  Basically their definition of a co-dependent person is anyone who enables an addict and anyone who will deal with their spouse's addiction just so things don't change.  I threw a fit about not being co-dependent and didn't go to the Nar-Anon meetings (I did go to the intensive outpatient to support my husband, just so you know I am supportive!)

I know my husband loves me and wants me to succeed, but at the same time I think he doesn't want me to change.  That includes changing the way I look.  I think he's worried --at least subconsciously -- that part of my personality will change, maybe I won't love him as much, or will leave him or something.  We've known each other since high school and I've always been yo-yoing around this weight.  In his eyes my weight is tied to who I am, and he doesn't want me to lose that (literally).

For almost all the years I've known my husband he's been addicted to pills unbeknownst to me.  When I found out, I was truly terrified that he would change into a different person without them.  I remember thinking what if the person I married isn't who he really is?  But that wasn't enough for me to risk him dying (see I'm not co-dependent) and I dropped him off at rehab.  I took a chance, and he's about 10X better clean!! 

I guess I'll just have to be "clean" and prove to him I'm the same person.  But seriously, I don't down a pint of lortabs in front of him!

The Weight Box

When I was in junior high I asked my mom to buy a "weight box."  It's hard to believe that there was a time when I didn't know what a scale was called.  Now not only do I know what the little box that holds all my secrets is called, I am obsessed with it.  Obsessed.

Yesterday I made a list of goals as I started a 8 week summer challenge.  So far, the hardest goal to defeat was the one that looked the easiest - only weigh myself on Mondays.  This morning it took all I had to avoid digging through the bathroom cabinet to grab the scale that I hid yesterday.  I hurried to the kitchen and ate breakfast - because I cannot weigh myself after eating.

A couple years ago I read that it's best to weigh yourself everyday so you can keep track of where you are - what works and what doesn't.  Perfect excuse to continue my obsession.  But my mom hates that idea.  I've told her a hundred times about this article and she always tells me no, it's bad - the scale is my total undoing.  She'll explain how she'll be on a roll with exercise and healthy eating but when the scale doesn't reflect that she loses it.

My mom is probably right - that I shouldn't weigh ourselves everyday.  I can think of a billion times that I've reached 155 pounds and I just go crazy.  I start shoveling things into my mouth until I weigh 160 lbs. again.  Last week I put in some strong workouts on Monday and Tuesday.  On Wednesday the scale said I was 2 pounds heavier.  WHAT!?!?!??  Well, all I can say is I did not workout the rest of the week.

I don't want my whole life to revolve around what my scale tells me.  I'm pretty happy about the fact that I didn't weigh myself today... of course I'm still thinking about next Monday when I can, but at some point I hope to stop thinking about the stupid scale... and one day even forget what it's called :)

Who Am I Without Food?

I'm really good at losing 8 pounds - I mean really good. I've done it dozens of times - a couple times this year alone.

Here's what happens:
Day 1 I weigh in at 163 pounds. One week later, 159 pounds.

I keep going with daily exercise routines, counting calories and 8 hours of sleep. But then, insert my biggest roadblock. I'm not talking about a plateau, if only it could be a plateau. My roadblock to losing weight is losing weight. Every time I hit or come near 155 pounds I lose my mind. Seeing a 155 on the scale is my cue to scoop in the calories. I eat, eat, and eat some more until finally, a week later I am back at 163 pounds. The cycle starts again.

I used to think I didn't have the willpower to continue dieting and exercising for longer than it took to lose eight pounds. Now I'm realizing I'm thinking like an addict. I've been 163 pounds for as long as I can remember. When I was a freshman in high school I weighed myself (for weight loss) for the first time - I weighed in at 163 pounds.

I've never been skinny. I don't know how to be skinny. I have never weighed myself to see a 140 on the scale. I don't know what it's like. Can I do it? Will I still be funny? Will my husband think I'm attractive? Will people talk about me? Will I look the same? The closer I get to my goal weight, the more scared I get of it. What if I can't be a skinny girl?

Rewind 90-plus days ago. This same conversation went down with my husband. We were in our poorly lit living room (imagine this for affect, trust me), both of us had tear stains on our cheeks, with more tears coming. My husband had already admitted he was addicted to pills. Plans for rehab were already set. The tears were for another confession -- my husband told me he wouldn't be the same person without drugs. He told me prescription drugs had fueled him for the last 4 1/2 years. During the short times he was off them I would apparently complain about him being rude and not loving me. He said he didn't know how to live or work without drugs. He didn't know how to be sweet, sensitive, and loving without them. He even cited a Dr. Phil episode he saw - a recovering addict and his spouse were divorced because the spouse couldn't handle the "new person."

As you can imagine this conversation was terrifying. I sat there listening, wondering if I had made the biggest mistake by getting married just months before. I tried to hold back tears and assure him everything would be fine. (Later I took my insecurities about who my clean husband would be to my mom and in-laws.)

Here's the good news. My life is so much better now. My husband is more perceptive, sweet and loving than ever! He actually remembers to do things like take out the trash. He notices when I'm not feeling well. He doesn't call into work anymore. He's stronger, he's more active, he really cares.

I think part of addiction is thinking you can't live without that specific thing. I can't live without these 20 pounds, my husband thought he couldn't live without drugs. I saw my husband change for the better. Now I will change for the better.

It's Just a Kiss

Just days after my last post (which, by the way I promise to be better about posting) I had started a new diet. It was going to be the time that I quit eating chocolate (among other things.)

On day 2 of my new diet, I was walking from the morning meeting at work when a co-worker offered me a chocolate kiss. I turned the offer down. That's when one of my good friends said, "It's just a kiss." Hmm -- yeah, but...

I am so addicted to food... for me "just a kiss" is like just a drink or just a hit.

One of the people I met in IOP - intensive outpatient - told the group she couldn't imagine not drinking ever again. She said her main goal was to stop drinking as a form of therapy, instead to only drink during social events.

I feel like that, except for with chocolate. How am I ever supposed to give chocolate up? I know in theory I should be able to eat just a kiss and move on with my day. For some reason I can't. For some reason if I eat just a kiss I need a bag of kisses, then I need chips, then I need a cake.

I have no control - and until I gain control I need to quit kisses.