Thursday, October 6, 2011
A strong man falls down seven times...
I have a confession...I've slipped in my resolution. A week or two ago, while I was weighing a package to mail, I got on the scale. Some would say this is no big deal. I was just "setting" the dial so the package would weigh, right? Right?! Maybe some people could get away with that, but not me. I reeled . . . for days . . . over a number. After a few days I came to my senses, stopped feeling sorry for myself, and went through some unrealistic expectations I had been holding out for. Example? "If I could just stick to a diet, I'd be thin." Logic dispells this one. Why in the world would there be a diet industry, if diets worked? Selling hope is big business, that's why. Well, I'm done with the Dr. Terminus' of the world (points for getting Pete's Dragon reference). I've pulled out of my funk and realized that the funk may come back, in which case I'll just have to pull out of it again. "Success is not final. Failure is not fatal. It is the courage to continue that counts," said someone-who-was-incredibly-wise-that-I-can't-remember-their-name-right-now. At any rate, control is not the answer, nor is indulgence: what I'm searching for is freedom.
As in everything, there is a good side to this slip-up. Instead of just resting on my laurels and sticking to "not weighing myself", I came face to face with my problem-- and I started seeking help. If I could have solved the problem on my own, I would have done it a long time ago. My family and friends have turned out to be invaluable resources and encouragement. Another place I've found is the blogging community of like-minded people. JL has a story similar to mine over at Stop Chasing Skinny. I love the way she talks about striving for her happy weight for years, when there was, "not one damned happy thing about it". Another great website is Oh She Glows -- when I read Angela's story, I realized how I was shooting myself in the foot trying to stick to a certain amount of calories a day. She related in one of her posts that we don't allot a certain amount of breaths a day (some days we need more, some days we need less) and our body knows that. I started thinking-- when I think about breathing, I start to hyperventilate. I start to worry that next breath isn't coming. Aren't I doing the same thing with food? By trying to restrict it to a number on a chart, I'm not only obsessing about it constantly, I'm eating more than I would have out of rebellion (my body thinks it's being deprived). So, it's time to breath easy and it's time to trust my body. Thanks, slip-up, you helped me get up the 8th time. :)