Six Months Have Passed But My Thoughts Are The Same

I wrote this entire post at the end of April but never posted it. I'm glad I kept it in draft mode because I just about could have written this same post today. I'm at 196 lbs., still down 18 from this year's high, but up 5 from this year's low. I'm in one of those in-between places, struggling to stay on the right path even if I'm dragging myself down the straightaway and around the curves.

Below is what I was thinking in April and am still pondering today. Later in the week I'll write the post I planned to write, "Potato Chips Are Of The Devil".

:)smile

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Been thinking about food as a source of comfort. I don't just mean in terms of enjoyment but as a type of balm for what ails me.

Not a new topic in the world of dieting. I remember Oprah talking about this very same thing almost 20 years ago.

At the time, I thought, "Not me." I assumed I (a) didn't know how to eat properly, which could be fixed; and (b) I had no willpower.

Well, I now know how to eat properly. I really do, even though it remains a challenge from meal to meal, day to day.

As for the willpower, I'm still tossing that one around in my head. Dr. Kessler's research suggests that willpower isn't really the problem, or is only part of the problem, thanks to the profit-hungry food industry.

No, I'm talking about eating to fix what ails me inside. I began thinking about this because I was wondering why the scale's been stuck for the past two months. I know it's because I've slacked off on both eating right and exercising.

But why?

Because when other things just aren't right, I use food not only to comfort myself, but to punish myself.

Yep, I said punish, a revelation I had last night.

When things are going really well in my life, when everything's in order and moving forward on all cylinders, I find it easy to eat right and to exercise diligently. I'm eager and enthusiastic. It becomes almost effortless.

But when things are not quite right, I start to tell myself those "treats" are okay, as long as I don't over do it. It's all right if my workout isn't quite as long or as intense, as long as I'm still working out.

Before I know it, the eating is more bad than good, and the exercise, although consistent in frequency, is way down in duration and intensity. Is is a wonder that the scale won't budge?

Then I begin feeling bad, a sure-fire recipe for falling completely off the wagon.

Eating the right things 50-75% of the time, and working out but not giving it my all is not the ticket to losing weight. I watched The Biggest Loser on Tuesday, and I continue to be amazed by just how hard those folks work to lose their weight. So what makes me think I can lose mine by slacking?

Why do I eat things I know will come back to haunt me, especially when I'm telling myself I shouldn't do it, even as I chew? Why do I tell myself it's okay to sleep another five, ten, thirty minutes, knowing I'm sabotaging any chance of beginning my day with exercise?

I'm not beating myself up here. I'm just trying to understand. I believe it has to do with my "deserve quotient". Deep down, how much do I truly believe I deserve to be healthy, at an appropriate weight, and in good physical condition?

I don't know.

Do you feel you deserve to be healthy? If so, why aren't you? Do you use food to soothe or medicate yourself? If you used to, how did you stop?

Peace & Blessings,
Patricia