Three Little Words

It was supposed to be a fun thing that showed up in my Facebook newsfeed.  A word search with a jumble of letters...first three words you find describe you.  The puzzle is at the top of this blog post...what do YOU see first?  My eyes first landed on:

Fat.  Bad.  Broken.

And what's really scary is that is exactly how I'm feeling about myself right now.  I'm totally disgusted with myself.  I keep trying to make changes...and I keep failing.  Two steps forward, three back.  I feel like I'm totally broken.  I'm not giving up...but I'm just so sick of failing.

Today was the epitome of those feelings.  A friend was having one of those home parties where you go and buy stuff.  Kinda like Tupperware or Pampered Chef...but this was clothes.  Leggings, to be exact.  Leggings & skirts with tops to go with them.  They are very cute...if you are a normal sized person.  Leggings are just not for people my size.  And under normal circumstances, I would have avoided this type of party like the plague.

The invite to the party said you didn't have to buy anything just come out and have fun...and chance for moms to get together and let the kids play.  And so I went for the sake of my children...a chance to get my homeschooler socialized.  LOL!  I figured I might look at the tops maybe.  But I was mostly going for the fellowship.  I looked at a few things, but didn't find anything I really liked and fit in my budget.  My friend kept encouraging me to try some leggings on.  She singled me out and wouldn't let it drop until I tried them on despite my polite protests.  I was beyond uncomfortable...but I went along with it so as not to make a scene and draw even more attention to myself.  And once in the safety of the make-shift dressing room, my horrors were confirmed.  I could not even get the leggings on.  I redressed in the outfit I'd worn to the party and quietly put the items away and found a place to sit, hoping no one would notice me.  Everything in me wanted to flee at that moment, but I knew I could not do that without making a scene since my boys were spread out over the play area.  Though I'd hope to sit there without being noticed, it was not to be.  Another friends saw my feelings sitting on my sleeve and asked if I was ok.  I simply nodded and held up my hand with a desperate hope that she would allow me to regain my composure.  She did.

 My friend having the party, however, comes over and says, "SOOOO...how did it go?"  I quietly told her I could not wear them, hoping that would be the end of it.  It wasn't.  "Well, WHY not?!?" my friend pried.  I'm sure my cheeks flushed a bright crimson as tears began to well up in my eyes.  "Because I can't get them on my fat body" I said in my defeat.  The tears began to fall and the scene I desperately wanted to avoid became a reality as others began to notice and circled around me.  

To my friend's credit, she did come to me later and apologize.  She's one of those people who can't possibly understand what it is like.  She's one of those ultra healthy people who drinks raw milk and eats seaweed.  She's never experienced my struggle.  I'm sure she has struggles of her own.  But the struggle of food addiction, like miscarriage or infertility, can only truly be understood by those who have experienced it themselves.

Even though I'd seen that crossword and found those words several days before this incident, I couldn't have felt more fat, more bad, more broken than I did at that moment.  I hate myself for what I've allowed my body to become...and yet, I feel powerless to change it.  In the women's Bible study group at my church, we've been studying the book of Romans and a verse in chapter 7 describes me and my relationship with food perfectly:

"For I do not understand my own actions.  For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate...For I have a desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out.  For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep doing."  ~Romans 7:15, 18-19

I know the right things to do.  I know I should eat less and exercise more.  I know I should eat healthier foods.  I know I should avoid sodas.  I know, I know, I know...I should, I should, I should.  It's not a lack of knowledge...it's a battle within myself.  I know the right thing to do, but the addiction lies to me and tells me one more time won't hurt, we'll start again.  And so I give in...or I spend hours fighting the craving.  Either way, I feel like I lose.

Please pray for me.   God is the ONLY one who is able to fix this in me.

Falling Off The Wagon and Getting Back On...It's A Daily Struggle!

If you read my last blog post, you know my struggle with weight has been a life-long one, and a daily one as well.  Sometimes it's a minute by minute struggle.  But the difference now from where I was a couple years ago is that the time between falling off the wagon and when I get back on is becoming hours rather than days, weeks, months, or years.  Oh...and I've also decided I'm no longer ON A DIET.  No, I don't just eat whatever I want, whenever I want it.  I'm just changing my mindset.  In the past, a diet was something I went on to lose weight, struggled through it as long as I possibly could, all the while looking forward to the day when the diet was OVER so I could eat whatever I wanted. Which would lead to weight gain...and eventually the cycle would repeat itself.  I believe they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result every time.  So...I guess that makes dieting a pretty insane thing to do, huh?

As far as diets, I've pretty much done (and failed) them all...Weight Watchers (failed that 3 or 4 times, at least), Adkins, cabbage soup diet, any diet I found in a magazine or a friend was doing at the time that might possibly work...I think the craziest one I went on was the Sour Kraut Diet (and I was probably all of maybe 12 or 13 when I did that one).  I don't remember all the details about the diet or even if that was the official name of it, but I do remember it involved drinking 4oz of sour kraut juice 2-3 times per day.  Now, I like sour kraut...on a hot dog!  But not the juice...until it promised to melt pounds off my overweight body (which probably wasn't quite as overweight as I thought it was at the time, especially as I look back on it with wiser eyes set in a face far chubbier than my preteen self could have ever been)! It's a wonder I still love sour kraut today (but only on my hot dog or reuben sandwich...never the juice)!  Shoot...I even tried starving myself once.  I was 17 and desperately wanted to go on a church trip but my mother wasn't keen on the location.  My dad made an off-handed comment saying that if I could lose 20 pounds in the next two weeks, I could do it.  I took him at his word and survived on mostly peppermint candies and water for the next two weeks!  AND...I lost 22 pounds!!!  I'm sure he made that comment thinking that it wasn't possible & would get me off their backs about it...but he totally underestimated my willingness to do whatever it took to go on that trip!  By the way, I did get to go on the trip!  ;)

So...why do I tell you this?  Because I've tried it all...and I've failed it all.  Even the most successful program I've done, First Place - a faith based weight loss program that I would describe as Bible study meets Weight Watchers.  I was successful for awhile...long enough to lose 80 POUNDS!  I attribute this success to my cousin Kathy who was a huge cheerleader for me at the time.  Very much like me, Kathy had also struggled with her weight as a child.  But very much unlike me, she had become victorious over her weight issue in her childhood.  Shortly after her daughter was born, she and I began to take walks together while pushing her daughter in the stroller (I was single at the time and we lived close to each other).  While we walked, we talked about life.  She knew I was unhappy with my weight issue (this was around the time the picture was taken that I mentioned in my previous post), but she never once made me feel guilty or ashamed.  On one of these walks, she mentioned that she and another lady from our church were starting a new weight loss program at our church and asked if I'd be interested in being a part of the group.  I agreed, not knowing what to expect, but wanting to be a part of whatever my cousin was doing at that time (not to mention, the idea of losing weight was enticing, too)!

Each week, we kept track of what we ate (following the diabetic exchanges meal plan) on forms that we turned in each week when we weighed in privately with the leaders.  Then we all met together for Bible study and a time of sharing successes & challenges of the week, as well as prayer requests.  The other lady was in charge of the Bible study and my cousin was in charge of the weight loss portion.  Kathy made comments on our weekly food journals and then gave them back.  Sometimes she made suggestions for changes we could make (such as eating only 10 fries instead of a whole order), sometimes the comments were to celebrate something we'd done right (even when we think eating a few goldfish while serving in the church nursery was a bad thing but she noticed I actually had exchanges for it), sometimes they were challenges for something to push us along (one of mine was to go a whole week without eating any french fries)...but always the comments were positive!  I flourished in this environment.  For once, I wasn't berated for my failures...just given ideas for how to keep them from happening again.

Throughout the program, my cousin and I continued to exercise together...eventually moving from stroller walks through her neighborhood to the treadmill at the YMCA.  That way, we could each move at our own speed (she ran, I walked) but still be together.  This actually pushed me to walk faster, with a goal of eventually matching her speed.  Unfortunately, I never made that goal.  After I'd lost about 80 pounds on the program, Kathy's husband's job moved them a couple hours away and not long after that, I moved to Florida.  It was in Florida that the fateful picture was found by the cousin I was living with at the time and the comment that still haunts me today was made.  And little by little, my willingness to persevere dropped away and the pounds slowly crept back on.  As I mentioned in the previous post, my cousin that I was now living with had never faced a weight issue, so she didn't really know how to help me and after her comment, my self-confidence plummeted.  Not to mention, that year was probably the hardest year of my life in so many areas...and when a food addict is stressing out, the first thing we do is look for food to calm our nerves.  And that's exactly what I did.

So...here I am, doing my Trim Healthy Mama thing, taking my Plexus (which, now that I understand better how it is supposed to help me is actually helping!), and doing the best I can...one meal/snack at a time!  I have fallen off that diet wagon more times than I care to count...so now, I'm trying a new wagon.  A healthy eating wagon...and no matter how many times I fall off, I am determined to get back up until I'm so secure in that wagon that falling off will just become a distant, painful memory of what I used to do!  :)

Food Addict

I haven't blogged here for awhile...mostly because I've felt like an absolute failure.  It's not Plexus or any other weight loss product or program that has failed me.  It's me.  I can NOT stay away from food.  And if you are going to eat past the point of feeling full (like, Thanksgiving-loose pants-lay on the floor full), then no weight loss product is going to work for you.  You have to be willing to listen to your body's full signals and STOP PUTTING FOOD IN YOUR MOUTH.  This is where I fail.  If the food tastes good and/or it might not be there for me later, I will eat it...and continue eating it until I literally cannot put another bite in my mouth without throwing up (unless I'm in public or around others, then I'll try to stay to eating a polite amount of food...but then there's always a chance I might binge later to make up for it).  I fight this ALL THE TIME...but I don't always win.  In fact, I lose the battle more often than I win.  And that's WHY I'm in the condition I'm in.

Hi.  My name is Kara.  I'm addicted to food.

Food feeds not only my body, but also my emotions.  When I think of my "happy place," I think of my grandmother's dining room table.  Sitting at that large, antique, wood table with the claw feet and high back chairs, all seemed right with the world.  It's the place where our extended family gathered for Sunday dinners and holidays...and everyone was almost always in a good mood.  It's where I sat with my grandparents for meals when my mother and I lived there for a short time between her divorce/remarriage and whenever I slept over (which I did as often as I could).  The smells of home-cooked meals my grandmother prepared for the family still make their way through my memory bank today even though my grandmother passed away several years ago.  My grandmother showed her love through food.  Her answer to every problem was food.  Feeling cranky?  You must be hungry, have a snack.  Kids acting up?  They must be hungry...here, feed them.  Feeling mad, angry, sad?  You must be hungry...have a cookie!  I don't blame my grandmother at all.  I know she was only trying to help.  Like me, her love language was food.

Does that mean I'm doomed to be overweight?  No...I don't think it does.  Sure...I could take it on as my excuse and that would make life easier.  Well, not really.  It would enable me to simply indulge in all my favorites and continue down the food addiction road, but like any addiction, it would cause (actually, has caused) me more problems than it ever solved.  Sure...an ice cream cone can melt away the anger, hurt, frustration in the moment...but it also adds numbers to the scale, which brings on other problems.  I am currently at my highest weight...a weight I NEVER thought I would EVER weigh...a weight I'm too ashamed to put into writing.  A weight that's at least 50 pounds heavier than I was in the picture my cousin, whom I was living with at the time after losing about 80 pounds, said that she didn't know if she could love me at that weight.  I don't think she understood what an impact her statement had on me.  She never really struggled with weight a day in her life.  But, I hear that statement in my head all the time and am actually thankful she can't see me now.  And every time someone rejects me or overlooks me, I am sure it's because of my weight.  It might not be the real reason...but it has become my reality.  And I start to think if only I could kick this food addiction and lose weight, my life would be better.  And in some ways, it will.

Being overweight...especially THIS overweight really gets in the way of how I'd like to live my life.  My body hurts, especially my knees.  I get out of breath walking down the driveway.  I can't fit into clothes well.  I can't be outside in the Florida heat for more than 5 seconds without sweating.  I won't even attempt to fit into places that have a potential of being too tight.  I've been embarrassed trying to fit into booths where the seats and table don't move before, so I don't sit in booths.  As much as I'd love to take my kids to a theme park and the local fair, I know I'll avoid the rides like the plague because there's a chance I won't fit properly and be asked to get off.  I can't enjoy doing things with my kids because getting on the floor (and trying to get back up) is too uncomfortable.  Doing much of anything is becoming too uncomfortable...and it makes me mad!

Who am I mad at?  Me, of course.  I'm mad because I let myself get this big.  I'm mad because I can't seem to say no to food without a major inner struggle.  Seriously.  I was at a women's Bible study a few weeks ago and someone at our table brought two boxes of Dunkin Donuts and I literally sat there the full two hours obsessing over those donuts and fighting with myself about not eating them.  Sure, I succeeded...at least in avoiding eating the donuts...but I couldn't tell you one thing that was taught at that Bible study.  And I completely obsessed about Dunkin Donuts after that...until I had one.  The funny thing is Dunkin isn't even my favorite type of donut.  Had it been hot & fresh Krispy Kreme, well...let's just say it would have been all over in 2 seconds.  And there wasn't even my favorite type of DD donut, boston creme, in the box.  But I felt like a strung out junkie in the throws of withdrawal staring at her next "fix."  And, I guess I was.

So...for several weeks now, I've been trying to follow the Trim Healthy Mama plan.  "Try" being the operative word here.  I have yet to make it a full week on plan...shoot, I don't think I've even made it a full day on plan.  But the beauty of this plan is that their motto is if you mess up, try again in 3 hours.  See...it takes your body 3 hours to process what you've eaten.  It will either process it as energy or fat, or some combo of the two, but nonetheless, it's processed.  So...you start again.  No more thoughts of, "Well, I've blown it...might as well enjoy whatever I can the rest of the day and try tomorrow...or next Monday...or next blue moon..."  You get the picture.  So, I keep trying.  And some day, I'll get it.  Thankfully, I have friends who are helping me because they are doing this too...and so, I'll keep trying.

As part of my accountability, I'm going to start blogging my journey again.  I don't know if anyone will even read this other than me...but I need to start doing something to get the thoughts out of my head and onto paper...er, computer.  LOL!  So...here it is.  If you're reading this, leave a comment and let me know.  :)  If you've ever struggled with food addiction, let me know.  If you're still struggling, let me know that, too...we can pray for each other.  If, like my cousin, you've never faced this struggle before, hopefully this will help you to understand the pain & struggle of your friend or family member that is facing it better.  :)