Back In the World

Vacationing in Chicago was like being in a different world, as a different person. Every time I left the hotel I was facing my reflection in the gold elevator doors. It dawned on me that everyone around me couldn’t see the 258 pounds I used to weigh. They didn’t know I used to wear a size 24. It made me feel like a brand new person, like I could own my new identity for the first time – I was the only person for miles who knew I’d once been grossly overweight.

I ate like there was no tomorrow, but I did make some healthy choices. I got more exercise than most people get in a lifetime. I walked everywhere. I felt good, light, free. And then I had to come home.

Over the course of two days I interviewed for a job, returned to work, got hired for a new job, and quit my job. I start my new position on Tuesday. My natural instinct when something good like that happens is to celebrate with food. It didn’t help that I was having a hard time getting back to my healthy routine after vacation. Since Tuesday, I’ve done nothing but eat poorly. Sure, I’ve had some salads, fruits, and vegetables, but I’ve had cookies, brownies, and peanut butter. I’ve been eating delicious snacks and desserts even though I’m not hungry.

I stepped on the scale this morning, and even though I was horrified by the numbers, I can’t stop. In a way I don’t want to stop, not yet. Maybe after a year I deserve a couple weeks of eating whatever I want. But am I willing to pay the price? I don’t know. I know there has to be an end, and I know if I don’t stop I won’t be able to stop.

All You Can Eat Vacation

I’m going on vacation in a few days. In the past, this would have been cause for celebration, would have brought on a deep sense of relaxation. After this last year, though, I’m quite nervous about the prospect. Why? Because vacation is always about seeing the sights, shopping, and eating!

Some of the things I remember best about previous vacations involve meals. There was the unique, delicious Cranberry Gourmet in the middle of Times Square, having the world’s biggest breakfast buffet at The Aladdin in Vegas, and ordering sinful desserts in a beautiful hotel in Florida with friends. I don’t want to confine myself to salads on this trip. It’s very hard to eat healthy on the go, and I plan to be on the go all the time (weather, please be good to me!).

I’m trying to not worry about food and weight gain. I want to enjoy my vacation without constantly checking to see if my pants are getting tighter. I’ve worked really hard this past week, and plan to leading up to my trip, to hopefully minimize the damage. This trip is going to be a test for me of how well I can enjoy food without overeating, how well I can eat something because I’m hungry and it tastes good without wanting to eat five more of whatever it is.

Wish me luck!

Four Sticks of Butter

I can’t recall the source, but I read that one pound looks like four sticks of butter. That conjures an image of Oprah pulling a wagon onto the stage during one of her shows, showing the amount of weight she had lost. Sometimes I close my eyes and try to visualize my own wagon full of 432 sticks of butter. It’s difficult because I’ve never seen that many sticks of butter at once, but also because, even though the scale tells me I’ve lost over 100 pounds and my clothes have gotten smaller, I don’t always see myself minus 432 sticks of butter.

 

If you study eating disorders, especially anorexia and bulimia, you already read that people look in the mirror and see themselves as fat. At my highest weight, I’d look in the mirror and be convinced I wasn’t that big. It’s only now, wearing pants that balloon around me, that I realize how big I was. And yet, when I look in the mirror wearing a size 10, I don’t see myself that much thinner. Not all the time.

 

There are moments, if I’m wearing an outfit that really fits and one that I’m comfortable in, that I can check myself out. I leave the house feeling confident. But there are other times I just don’t see it.

 

My distorted point of view and low self-esteem not only impact how I see myself, but how I feel about other people’s image of me. I was always the girl dancing by herself at a club. My friends would be partnering up with guys, getting a lot of attention. Every once in a while someone would take pity on me, but I usually had to just be content to dance amid the group or with one of my female friends. Last weekend, as part of a bachelorette party, I hit the dance floor feeling pretty good about myself. I lost count of the guys that danced with me, but afterward, I asked myself, “Did they dance with me because they were attracted to me, or because it was dark and they were drunk?”

 

I hate feeling pathetic and lacking confidence. It’s not always like that. I don’t know what makes me look in the mirror one day and see a thinner, happier version of myself, and the next day I still see 432 sticks of butter on my arms, thighs, stomach, butt.