…it’s not just a TV show, it’s a metaphor for my life.

This past weekend was an eye-opener for me.  I won’t get into the specifics as to what happened, because the specifics really aren’t important.  It’s the self-destructive things I’ve done and seen in myself that have stopped and given me pause as to what kind of life I’m living and what kind of life I want to live.

I want so very much to say "I’m colossally fucked up" and just leave it at that.  But that’s such a cop-out, such a hollow statement.  I’m hurting inside, and I’m scared.  I’m afraid I’ll never be able to fully open my heart up to love, that I’ll always believe the demon voices in my head that tell me I’m not worthy of being loved.  That I’ll always make the wrong choice.  That I’ll always sabotage the good things that are in my life and gravitate towards the negative, reckless things that stir up self-hate.  That I’ll use my addictive vices (food and alcohol) to blot out the pain that I don’t want, but need, to face.  That my past will always dictate my future.  That I’ll sit by, watching idly as life passes me by.

But I can do it no longer.  I can’t push the people I love away from me.  I can no longer deny that I have a problem with alcohol, with intimacy, with facing my fears.  I just don’t know where to start and how to begin fixing the mess I’ve made of my life.

Wow- it’s been awhile since I last posted.  So many things have been going on in my life that have caused me to lapse back into my old ways. 

I’m so frustrated with myself.  I can’t decide whether to give up on dieting (and continue working in my Diet Survivor’s Handbook and try and overcome dieting once and for all) or if I’m still holding onto the hope that I might lose weight and might give dieting one more try.  Do I really want to spend the rest of my life on this rollercoaster of dieting and gaining, over and over?  Am I ready to accept and love my body as it is?  I just don’t know.  I see pictures of me back when I was more "fit" and "skinnier", and the pictures of me now are hard to look at.

Wow, what a positive post to start my blogging again…

Ugh is all I can say right now. 

Right now, I’m laying on a blanket on my porch, sunlight pouring down on me.  One of my two pups is curled up next to me and the breeze is flipping the pages of my "Diet Survivor’s Handbook" (I highly recommend picking one up at your local bookstore or on Amazon.com- whether you are ready to give up dieting or not, it’s been such a revelation for me since I’ve started reading it).  I couldn’t tell you what I weighed today, and frankly I don’t care.  How could I possibly be thinking about something so trivial as a number when the whole world is smiling down on me?  For that matter, how could you either?  Before the day is over, do something for yourself that will make you smile, make you happy, make you feel on top of the world.  Believe me, it’s a feeling no Twinkie, piece of pepperoni pizza or any food could ever make you feel.  You deserve it- we ALL do.

When it comes to criticizing our bodies and weight, nobody is a match for our own inner voices, which have become the experts at knowing just what to say to cut us to the quick.

How often do you hear this voice of criticism?  What does it say?  In the past, mine has used words and phrases like "fat loser", "huge, giant failure" and "ugly".  It’s so strange- I’ve come so far when it comes to my self-esteem, but my weight lingers as the one thing that makes me feel "less than" as a person. 

But maybe it’s time we cut ourselves a little slack.  Maybe it’s time to fall in love with our bodies again, regardless of dress size or a number on a scale.  Maybe it’s time to appreciate our bodies for the size they are today, not the smaller size they could be in the future.  I don’t know about you, but I’m sick and tired of waiting till I’m "thin" enough to like myself.  I’m more than pounds and kilos- I am a beautiful, intelligent, caring, trustworthy, amazing woman who is wrapped up in a package that may not be the media’s (warped) idea of the perfect body, but who wants to be perfect anyhow?  How boring would that be?!?

Ever since starting this blog and beginning to read other blogs of women and men struggling with this similar issue with weight, it’s gotten me to do a lot of thinking.  Instead of wondering how I was going to finally win the battle of the bulge, I found myself asking other questions.

I began to think about why I wanted to lose the weight.  Why was food my emotional crutch?  When had I stopped following my hunger and began simply feeding my emotions?  I began to think about why I was putting a piece of food in my mouth and what I thought it would accomplish.  I’ve begun to eat being dictated by my stomach, not my head.  I’ve started to wonder what the real reason is for this desire to be "thin", especially since I’ve been at that "ideal" weight once or twice and was just as unhappy as I’ve been at heavier times in my life.

For me, it can’t be about dieting anymore, but at the same time, I can’t ignore the fact that I have an unhealthy relationship with food that needs to be addressed.  I’m not so sure that this journey is about weight loss as a goal anymore as much as it is a chance to end the obsession over my weight once and for all.  I’m not talking about fat acceptance here, I’m talking about looking at more than just dieting as the answer to a problem that runs much deeper. 

There is a game I play in my head, and yet, it’s a game I was never taught by anyone other than myself.  It’s a game that just came naturally to me, a person who is an expert at beating themselves up for even the smallest of things.

It’s called "Am I fatter than her?"  See, when I’m in public, I often find myself evaluating my body size/shape against other women whom I see at the mall, at the store, on the train.  It’s not meant to be fun or cruel to anyone- with the exception of it being cruel to my self-esteem.  It’s so tiring, all this comparing and evaluating and inner dialogue, and yet, I find it hard to keep myself from doing it.  But why am I always measuring myself against others?  Why do I care so much?  Am I the only freak that does this?  Am I really that self-loathing?  What is accomplished by this?

Just a random thought that came to me this morning when thinking about a blog topic. 

*Today’s Alternative to Chocolate (a.k.a. my current guilty pleasure): Buying myself flowers

Last night, for the first time in what seems like ages, I went running outside.  It was one of those perfect nights for running- not too hot, not too cold, and just a hint of breeze to cool you off.  It’d been so long that I realized just how much I missed being outdoors and how much I hated working out in a gym/house/etc.

As I was running, I felt really alive for the first time in a long time.  Maybe I’ve been cooped up for too long.  Maybe it’s been too long and overcast of a winter.  Maybe I just needed to get my body in motion to reconnect with myself.  Whatever it was, it was like a jump-start to my body and soul.  I’m re-energized and ready to be inspired by others around me- whether it be the blogger who’s fighting the battle against fat like myself or the little kid out riding her bike with a wide smile across her face, just because it’s FUN.  I’m ready to listen to my body to tell me it’s hungry, and not my mind trying to coerce me into having a brownie so I can "feel" better.  I’m ready to quit trying to fill the empty spaces and places with food.  Maybe I’m kidding myself and tomorrow I’ll be pigging out on pizza and ice cream, but in this moment, I have to believe that I can do it, and that it is, in fact, possible.

*Today’s Alternative to Chocolate (a.k.a. my current guilty pleasure): The Real Housewives of Orange County

Despite the fact that I’ve already eaten breakfast (4 Thin Mints at 5 a.m., OJ and Cinnamon Crunch Toast cereal- total 550 calories), there are chocolate chip cookies in our office break room and I just feel like I HAVE to have one.  Why?

I’m not hungry, but it’s that feeling of "It’s not fair, why can’t I have one" and "I’d better get one before they run out".  Where does that come from?  Like I’ll never be able to have another chocolate chip cookie again?!?  Like it’s just not fair- everyone else can have one, but nobody gets fat like I do from eating them.  I just don’t understand.

I’m done with the ups and downs, the constant battle over food and my weight and being chubby.  I am reclaiming a healthy body come hell or high water, and I’ll be chronicling my journey here.  I have to hold myself accountable, and a journal seems to be the most logical thing for me to do to help in this body battle.

Welcome to A Weighty Issue!