New Focus

I stopped blogging for a while because I changed my "no rules" approach to losing weight. Not that anyone reads or cares, but I have this thing where I change my approach all the time. It's something I'm kind of ashamed of, so I end up keeping it to myself whenever I change my own rules. I crave consistency in life, but sometimes things don't work and you have to try something else. The "no rules" approach was just too difficult for me. I continue to believe that it is a really good way to do things if you can. But there's being mindful and there's losing weight. I want both, but the latter does not necessarily require the former. I was using weight loss as a channel for learning mindfulness, but I think I need to learn them separately. Honestly, I want my jeans to fit again and the whole "be mindful in every moment" approach was just taking too long. I'm not looking for a quick fix, because I've had enough quick fixes to know that you always spring back to the way things were before. But I do need something that shows consistent results. For that, I joined Weight Watchers. I've been to four meetings so far and I've lost almost 4 pounds. I'm a little disappointed that it's not more, but the best part is that I am not fluctuating from week to week. It's always a move downward, no matter how slight.

I also had a big shake-up in my life. I don't want to go into too many details, but my husband and I were involved in a domestic dispute. The actual physical contact was mild (he picked me up and carried me a few feet against my will, and then I backhanded him), but for reasons I still don't understand, when I was alone in the bedroom about to go to bed, he called the police on me. Since he had slight redness from the slap, the police took me into custody where I spent three nights in jail. The prosecutor decided not to press charges and thought I probably shouldn't have been in jail. The three nights gave me a lot of perspective. I was all alone with nothing to do for the first day. Then a guard gave me some magazines that were two years old. I was cold, I had no pillow, the bright lights were always on, I had heartburn like mad, and I just cried and cried and cried. I worried about what this would do to my career. Even though I should have done it a year ago, I still have not fully processed my moral character application, which is a requirement to be admitted to the Bar. This is already a source of great shame and embarrassment for me. I worried that this would make it take even longer, that every potential employer would ask me to explain this incident. To my relief, it turned out that since I was released without a charge, nobody will find out about this unless I work at a high security government job.

I was so furious with my husband for putting me in this position when he knew the damage it would cause. There was really no explanation for what he did. Sure, I did not do the right thing when I slapped him, but involving the police? Aside from his physical size and strength and ability to protect himself, I was not even threatening him. At first I just wanted to leave, to go far away from my life and make a new start. I figured I could find an apartment in Texas or Idaho or someplace for $500 a month until I got a job there. The second day, I woke up thinking, why should I leave? I love my city, I love where I live. I was not the one at fault here, I was the victim. Why should I have to pack up and leave in shame? Let him find somewhere else to stay. I fantasized about the day I would get out--lying low until he went to work, and then surprising him at the office with a big red suitcase packed for him.

I wondered how much he knew. After all, the only phone call I made was to cancel a doctor's appointment I had that week. Nobody had to know. But in the back of my mind, as much as it would have been easy to hate him for it, I couldn't. I would have had fewer tears, more resolve, more fire in my belly if I could hate him. But I pictured him and how he must be. He probably wasn't able to eat. He probably didn't even watch TV. He was probably just sad, that way he gets when he just wants to sleep until everything goes away. I hoped he was sorry for what he did, and I worried that I couldn't take it if he wasn't. The more I obsessed about what he did and what he was doing and what he was going to do when I returned, the more I realized that he is my world. I've never had a friendship like the one I share with him. We don't communicate very well, but we'd been working on it. Sometimes we just understand each other so well, like two halves of the same person, and sometimes we seem to have grown up on different planets. He has shown me so much outside of myself and the world I knew. How could I hate someone with whom I shared the deepest friendship I'd ever known? I missed his smell, his puffy lips and his warm dry hands with the bruised knuckles. I missed the way he says words like "tour" and "jewelry". I missed the mystical eyes that couldn't be assigned a particular color. I was so nervous coming home. I didn't know if he was prepared for it.

I was released at dawn on a Wednesday, and I walked home. Funny they were more than willing to escort me there, but I was on my own to get home. I thanked fate for not sending me to the county facility—how would I have gotten home then, I wondered. I slipped into our apartment, grabbed my purse in the entryway, and slipped out again unnoticed. I took my car down to the ocean bluffs, walked to a coffee shop, and then strolled along, waiting. I still didn't know what I would do. Would I pack him a bag? Would I leave? Or would I give in to my sentiment and see how things went? On the way back home, I stopped to get gas, just in case. My card was declined, and I paid cash. When I got home, I spent an hour in the shower. Could I wash off the shame I felt for the situation in which I had found myself? I looked up my bank statement online. Overdrawn. Great. There goes the apartment in Texas. With my checking overdrawn and my credit card maxed out, I also worried how he would react when he found out. Would he wish I had stayed in jail, where at least he didn't have to provide me food and shelter? I decided to wait a few days, because now, suddenly, I needed him even more. I checked the fridge, which contained burgers, steaks, and beef stew. I guess he took advantage of the situation to eat the things I didn't buy.

Then the phone rang. I picked it up, thinking it might be him. It was his matter-of-fact matriarch grandmother. She wanted to know if I needed money for my moral character application. Clearing my throat and wiping away tears, I told her that I didn't want to accept her money without telling her the truth about my relationship with her grandson. I skimped on the details of the fight, but told her that I had spent the last three nights in jail and I wasn't sure where the relationship was headed. Her advice was just what I needed. In her straightforward way, she told me to be an adult and not to run away from my problems. She said all relationships have their struggles, especially when two strong-willed people are involved, and that it would be worth it to work it out. Then, without any sentimentality, she said she would send the money anyway, implying that she knew I would stay.

Still not ready to talk to my husband, I e-mailed him at work and asked if he could schedule a session with our marriage counselor that day. He replied immediately and was able to do it. We met with the counselor and talked a little, and I knew that things were going to at least be safe and civil at home. I was satisfied with that for the time being.

It's been a few weeks now since all this happened. He kept me waiting for an apology, but he finally gave me one. I told him about the money and we worked out a financial plan that will carry us through until I start getting paid more. I feel that we have treated each other with so much more respect and kindness since this situation. We both saw how blessed we are and how much we have to lose if we don't make this relationship work. I was always taught that God can use bad situations to accomplish something good, and I am seeing that firsthand now.

Alcohol self-audit

I have been suspecting for some time that a principal factor in my weight gain, both recently and in patterns over the years, is alcohol. I am not looking forward to addressing this, but I've come to believe it's necessary.

Growing up, my parents never drank. I guess my grandma, the sweetest lady ever, was an alcoholic. She had a hard life, and drinking was an escape for her. My mom knew that that was in her genes, and because her mom's alcoholism was so hard for her, she never wanted to have any alcohol herself.

When I started dating my husband, he was a bit of a drinker. When I went out with him, people would think I was older and I would often not get carded as I would if I was with friends. He is 4 years older than me, so early on in college I only had alcohol when I went to his place or to a nice restaurant. When we got married (I was 19), I got used to having it around, and he would get me drinks at clubs or parties. When I turned 21, I already knew what I liked. I fancied myself a bit of a connoisseur. In law school, I enjoyed everything from wine to beer to hard liquor. I never got drunk when I went out, and only occasionally got drunk at home. I never did anything dangerous like driving after drinking, and I never missed class because of a hangover like some of my classmates. When I was on periods of low carb dieting, I would only drink rum and diet coke, or red wine.

But sometime in there, I started to think my husband drank too much. He's a big guy and has been a moderately heavy drinker for years, so having four or five drinks barely buzzes him. Well, I'm learning now that a lot of times when I have a habit that I don't like in myself, I point it out in my husband and blame him for it. So when I thought he was drinking too much, it may have meant that I thought I was drinking too much. The family I was raised in didn't really give me an idea as to what level of drinking was healthy and responsible, and what was too much.

While studying for the bar exam, I avoided alcohol. I had a glass of wine here or a couple of beers with friends there, but for the most part abstained. After I finished the exam, I popped the champagne cork and the relieved celebratory drinking did not really slow down for a couple of months. I would take swigs of liquor during the day, which I thought wasn't a big deal. But when I type it, I cringe a little, knowing it sounds bad. I cut back a couple of months ago, but because I have been drinking like a guy for a few years and I'm heavier than I've ever been, I have a pretty high toleration. Some nights I don't keep mental tab of how much I've had. I don't get drunk, but the drinks are adding up and giving me cause to reconsider my habits. And that little feeling of guilt or shame is telling me I need to grow up and stop drinking as much as a college kid. The fact that I think I have more refined tastes doesn't excuse the amount I drink. The calories are really adding up. I think this is a big part of why I gained 20 lbs after the bar exam.

For me, the bigger deal is my family's history of alcoholism. I did a couple of self-tests online, and they show a high probability that I am abusing alcohol, but they indicate that I'm not yet alcohol-dependent, another term for alcoholism. If I keep abusing alcohol, it could turn into dependence, and then I'll have to forgo it forever (or be an alcoholic, which isn't an option). Alcohol abuse help websites say that most people who determine to cut back are able to do it without a problem. If you have a problem cutting back, they say, it indicates you may be alcohol dependent. So, I have determined to set some guidelines for myself.

As everyone reading this blog knows, I am against hard and fast diet rules. But I feel like alcohol is kind of a different animal. With food, you have to eat or else you will die ("breathatarians" notwithstanding). If you don't listen to your body telling you what kind of food you need, you might suffer from deficiencies. But nobody needs alcohol. If it's doing something to you that you don't like, you can just give it up. With food, your stomach indicates that you are full, and then you (ideally) stop eating. With alcohol, the more your body gets the more it wants. So since built-in systems don't really help with alcohol intake, and since I want more than is good for me, I will have to give myself some rules. The incentive is for me, if I find myself unable to stick to the rules I give myself, I will join AA. That's a huge incentive to stick to the rules. I do not want to give up all alcohol forever. It would be like giving up chocolate or coffee forever. Joining AA is a lifetime membership, and for people I know that have done it, it is lifechanging and in some ways life-defining.

Since I don't want to have to do that, and since I am serious about sticking to these rules, I have made rules that are easy enough to follow once I get in the habit. The first month of a habit change is always the hardest, right? And I've been at this for two days already. Score! So my new Rule of Twos, which I will stick to for the rest of the year, is as follows: No more than two beers or sugary drinks per week and no more than two drinks on any given night. That doesn't mean I will have two drinks every night, but I can if I want to. In addition, in order to accommodate for holidays and other festivities, I am allowed to have up to four drinks on one night per calendar month. Like I said, this rule is pretty lax, but it is something I can stick to, which is important, and it also encourages me to keep track of what I drink, which puts a halt to random swigs while cooking or cleaning the kitchen. I think the limit on beers is especially important, since beer contains maltose, which spikes blood sugar more than eating sugar cubes on white bread, causing cravings. The liver also likes to deposit the resulting fat on the front of the belly, which is something I would rather have flat, thank you very much. I love English stouts and Belgian ales, so this part of it will be a little tough, but I will just have to make sure I enjoy and savor what I do have. And that's the whole point, right?

Here is a copy/paste from About.com regarding signs of alcohol abuse or dependence. Number 1 and 3 apply to me.

• Have you ever felt you should Cut down on your drinking?
  
  
• Have people Annoyed you by criticizing your drinking?
  
  
• Have you ever felt bad or Guilty about your drinking?
  
  
• Have you ever had a drink first thing in the morning to steady your nerves or to get rid of a hangover (Eye opener)?

One "yes" response suggests a possible alcohol problem. If you responded "yes" to more than one question, it is highly likely that a problem exists.

Whip it!

Hello!

So I've been doing pretty well this week and I'm actually looking forward to my monthly weigh-in! I hope so badly that the uptick was just a fluke. I was steady at 174, and then while I was eating normally and starting to exercise more, it went up to 177 again! I am really hoping that I was just retaining water or something. All those years I thought I was fat in the 140s and 150s, I never thought I would be excited to be in the 160s. I wish I appreciated what I had. But the good news for me is that I don't have any medical condition (other than "aging") that precludes me from getting back to that. Also, I remember that my diet was not restrictive at those weights, and that I could have what I wanted in moderation. If I could get to 130 like that, it would be ideal, but I am willing to settle for higher if it means a more relaxed lifestyle.

My personal goal is to be below 144, because that is the weight I would have to be at if I wanted to join JAG, an idea I've been toying with. Coincidentally, it's also the weight I was the day I got married. I was size 8 or could squeeze into a 6. I have a picture of me on my honeymoon, at a baseball game, wearing white pants and a tube top and looking very cute. The pants won't even come up my thighs now, but hopefully the weight will come off just by reversing the habits that put it on. At 130, I would be comfy in a 6 and could maybe squeeze into a 4. My new motto is not "I think I can" but "I CAN DO IT!" I just tell that to myself whenever I feel hopeless about the situation.

Exercise has been going better. I'm not sure if I mentioned this before, but the gym I had been going to went out of business in August. It was privately owned and felt like a spacious New York loft. The owner was always there and would greet me as I came in, asking me how I was doing, how bar study was coming along, and encouraging me that the I was in the right place and I would pass the test. It was never stuffy or overly air conditioned, just cooled by the ocean breeze. It had all the big screen and personal TVs my little ADHD brain could want. It was never crowded, the people who were there had good attitudes but pretty much left me alone. And it was three blocks away. Basically, it was the ideal place for me because it made me actually WANT to go. All the gyms in the area now are $65 a month and up, located near a crowded mall area, and are way too trendy for a square like me.

So, I got the Chuck Norris approved Total Gym and put it in the spare room. The older models go for about $300. For the most part, I really like it. I was able to find replacement exercises on it for all the stuff the free trainer session at the gym taught me. It's kind of fun, and it takes less time than weight lifting at the gym because you don't have to go to a new machine for each exercise. But, sometimes I like a little more energy, a little more pressure. I kind of like being in a gym with a bunch of guys and pretending that they are watching me to see if I will finish the set with good form. I like trying to run faster than the person next to me. What I do now is open the window and hope a neighbor walks by. Not quite the same, but it's something.

Also, my curvy hips and chest (even when I'm much thinner) appreciate the non-impact exercise an elliptical machine offers. Now my cardio options are pretty much limited to jumproping in the alley or going for a walk/jog. With all the stop lights around here, street cycling won't get my heart rate up. I'm afraid to ride fast on the boardwalk because one time some kids jumped out in front of me at a sandy spot and I almost fell off my bike trying to brake. Well, that and the pedestrians, who have their own sidewalk just a few feet from the bike path insist on walking on the well-marked "bike only" path in large groups and then looking at me like I'm the rude one for ringing my little bike bell to pass them. Grr. I usually only run on the treadmill, and only when I'm below 150 (so it's easier on my joints), but now outdoor running is pretty much what I have to do, and it's uncomfortable. My chiropractor, who's a marathon runner, told me that I should power walk with spurts of jogging until my body can handle more sustained jogging. I've never been very athletic, but I used to go to the gym very regularly, and it sucks to be in this position of starting almost from scratch. The good news is that with only 10 or so full workouts on the Total Gym over the last couple of weeks, I am already able to increase the resistance a notch and my husband is telling me I look more toned in my neck and arms. Yay for that! But I know that for me, it's the cardio that really helps me lose.

To encourage myself to do more cardio, I gave myself an incentive. I bought an MP3 player to replace the old one that died last summer. A lightweight 2GB one with a screen was only $30 on the Creative website, came with a sports armband, headphones, and a charger. So even though I'm almost broke, I figured it was cheaper than buying an elliptical. Hey, I'll get the elliptical when I get a job. And it's definitely cheaper than diabetes or heart disease, both of which run in my family and correlate with overweight-ness.

Inspired and making progress

I finally figured out how to search Blogspot for blogs like mine, and I pretty much spent all day yesterday doing that! I was so inspired by everyone that I have been doing better ever since. I do not want to be a whiner. I want to have one of those blogs that inspires others. But at the same time, I want to be real about it because I suspect there are plenty of former bulimics who have found themselves with a weight problem they aren't sure how to tackle in a health-affirming way. After being so messed up, it isn't easy. I guess with me the key is to saturate myself in literature and personal experiences so that I constantly feel inspired to make good choices. Isn't that much nicer than relying on diet rules and sheer willpower?

I went to Whole Foods and got some pre-cut fruit. It's expensive, but if I just keep at it for a week or so, I should be in the habit of eating more fruit by then. A few extra bucks to ingrain a healthy habit? Priceless.

Yay, my first comment! Shoutout to Sher Khan over at http://longliveandprosper.blogspot.com/. I am feeling very optimistic today. I finally just told my husband that I needed his help for a few days to get me started. I was having a hard time getting up early enough to work out and told him last night that today I would do it. He was planning on getting up a little before me and then making sure I got up to exercise. Well, as it turned out, I woke up with his first alarm, but he kept hitting snooze. I lazed around for a while, and used him not waking up as an excuse to not work out. Then I sat on the bed and talked with him. The point is, I usually find myself getting upset that he didn't help me, and blame my failure on him. But I caught myself this time. I told him "You're using me as an excuse not to get up, and I'm using you as an excuse not to work out, so I'll just leave the room and get rid of both excuses." And I got up and got ready and had a great workout! Yay for me! I guess I don't need as much help as I thought!

I was feeling so optimistic that I decided to check the scale even though I usually only check it once a month. Um, bad idea. I had a gain of 1.5 pounds! I just have to tell myself that it is highly unlikely that I actually gained 1.5 pounds of fat in 2 weeks of trying to eat healthy and exercise. Sure, I might not have lost any, but it's really unlikely that I had 5,000 extra calories or however many it takes to gain 1.5 pounds of fat. Right? Right. Maybe one step back means next I'll get two steps forward? So from now on, to avoid unnecessary freakouts, I will only weigh in monthly.

Just FYI for the ladies, you are at your skinniest a day or two after the last day of menstruation. When I was maintaining around 150, I would only weigh in first thing in the morning on that day every month, and my weight stayed remarkably consistent. This is a good antedote to the frustrating "I gained 2 pounds today!" scenario.

Rainy Days and Mondays

It is raining so hard outside! Isn't this supposed to be California? Today is hard because I don't feel like working out, I feel like vegging on the couch! I am feeling a little down today.

When I woke up, I was excited that it was cooler outside, since it's been in the 70s and 80s lately. This meant I could go for a walk/jog without getting too hot. But then it started raining hard! There goes my plan to jog to the natural foods store 15 blocks from here to get more fruit!

I've been on Vyvanse for my ADHD, but I'm almost out, so I took one of my husband's Adderall, which I used to be on as well. I didn't have that late night hunger that I often experience, and I was tired enough to go to bed at a reasonable time. I only switched to Vyvanse because my psychiatrist suggested it. True, it's not as jerky a ride as Adderall as far as focusing on tasks is concerned, but it suppresses hunger to the point of nausea. Then when it wears off, however gently, I become very hungry. The Adderall didn't seem as extreme that way. The Adderall doesn't last as long, but now that I'm not burning the candle at both ends, that shouldn't be much of a problem. I am wondering if I should switch back! But I can't lie, a lot of my motivation to do so is from the fact that I gained all this weight after switching from Adderall to Vyvanse. It may just be coincidence, as I had so much change going on in my life at the same time, but it's still on my mind. I don't want to do it for the wrong reason, so I really need to examine my motives.

I try to be upbeat in this blog, but honestly, the past week or so, I just want to cry when I get a glimpse of my body in the mirror. I feel like I don't even know my body anymore. The weight came on so fast. I am used to being curvy, but with toned arms and stomach. Now there is nothing on my whole body that I am confident about. Even my usually clear skin is breaking out. I need to find a way to use those feelings to motivate change, but my more instinctual reaction is thinking that I can't change it and shouldn't bother.

A partner would be good. I need someone who is going to call or email almost every day, and help me be accountable. Someone who won't accept my lame excuses. I would love for my husband to be that person, but for him to be interested he would have to think I have a problem. Since he is a big guy, he still thinks I'm little and doesn't see me as overweight or unhealthy. Plus I think he feels threatened by my changes, thinking that he will be forced to do the same (which may not be completely off base, heh heh).

Well, off to the store to get some fruit!

My challenge progress and an impediment

I have been doing okay on my fruit challenge. I have had 1 or 2 fruits a day since I started, which is better than the 0-1 I was having before, but not exactly fulfilling my goal. I don't want to be making excuses for myself, but eating lots of fresh fruit means going to the grocery store a lot, which I don't necessarily want to do because I don't want to be seen in public, I'm uncomfortable in my clothes, and I don't have the money to do lots of shopping. Okay, as I re-read that last sentence I see I am definitely making excuses for myself. 1) Most people that see me in public don't know what I used to look like, so they are not thinking about how bad it's gotten. Most people are too consumed with themselves to notice me anyway. 2) I can handle squeezing into tight jeans for a quick walk to the store if it will ultimately help those jeans to fit more loosely. 3) I am spending more money if I stock up on junk food (or pseudo-health food) every week than if I walk to the store for fruit every couple of days. Plus the walk helps me burn more calories. So no more excuses!

I have been doing okay on my exercise. What seems to keep impeding me is the whole morning schedule thing. If I wake up late, it feels too late to exercise because it will take up so much time (so then I watch some TV and eat. Great.), but I am having a hard time getting up early. Compounding the problem is that my husband has been going to work later lately, and I don't know why. I snapped at him today, when it was 11:30 and he still had not left. Our weight system at home is right next to the office, and I play music from the office so the door needs to be open, and I do not need him gawking at me or smirking at my noises while I'm trying to get buff! I guess I need to resolve that no matter how late I get up or no matter how late my guy leaves for work, I will work out on schedule, first thing when I get up. Maybe if I crank the music up loud enough, he'll want to leave. I'll try modern jazz tomorrow morning, he hates that stuff.

I don't mean to sound cruel. My husband is the world to me. It's just that his habits are so entrenched that it creates this huge amount of inertia in our relationship. If I want to try to do anything for myself, it's like I have to have the willpower for two: one for me to do it and one to work around his impeding habit. It's like that for drinking less, eating healthier, exercising more, and getting to bed earlier. It is so much harder to do those things when your other half doesn't! What is especially unfair is when I work so hard at creating a new good habit and, like a dolphin behind a motorboat, he rides off my hard work to volley himself ahead. He ends up doing way better than me at the habit and getting all the credit for himself. We went to Hawaii about a year ago, and although I had been struggling to lose weight before I ever knew about that vacation, he quietly decided two months in advance that he wanted to lose weight. He joined a gym, ate a little less, and never talked about it. Four months later, he had lost 40 lbs and everyone was telling him how great he looked. It helped me to eat better and work out more, but my results were anything but dramatic. I feel like I fight and struggle for miniscule victories, and he stubbornly stays the same despite my pleading for support. But when he decides on his own to give it a try, he has such an easy time of it. He must wonder why I am such a failure.

Dealing with failure

Hi folks! Anyone out there yet? Post a one word comment to let me know you're reading! It would be a great encouragement!

I spent Friday and Saturday with two friends who are on traditional diets, the kind I've failed dozens of times and don't have the heart to attempt again. We were refreshingly honest with each other, sharing our goals and ideals, but I didn't yet manage to tell them about my eating disordered past, about why I am approaching it the way I am. I have only ever told one friend about it. Another found out through a blog that I wasn't trying very hard to hide (I think I wanted to be found out). I told my mom and sister when one of them made an oblique reference to something related. Turns out they had both struggled with similar issues, though I have yet to learn the extent in the two or so years since that conversation. So this stuff is hard for me to talk about to folks I know.

Since I got back home from seeing my friends, I have had very strong desires to binge eat, which I have not controlled very well. I am looking for a job, so I am home alone all day, and it is so hard to control those destructive urges. I am feeling pretty down on myself and find myself wondering if I will ever lose the weight. I seem to have a lot of ups and downs, from being excited about getting healthy to giving up out of despondence. It doesn't help that money shortages preclude many other forms of entertainment. I put off getting in the shower in the morning because I hate having to wear tight jeans all day or settling for sweats again. I am starting to feel like a stereotype of a fat lady. At 177 lbs, 5'6", I am definitely overweight, but I am not morbidly obese or anything. I tell myself that, but what it really comes down to is that I am uncomfortable in my own skin.

When I feel that severe discomfort in my own skin, it is food, ironically, that provides a temporary numbness. The pleasure of eating and that feeling of fullness provide a satisfaction that takes my mind off my ongoing body problems and goals. I don't need to tell you it doesn't last.

Another problem is that for all my soapboxing and goal-setting, I have to admit that I have yet to eat a meal in silence, away from the TV. For some, that would be fine. For me, it is an unhealthy pattern. If I finish the meal and the show is still on, I grab a snack. If I finish the show but still have some snack left, I start another show. You see how that can get out of control. In order to start changing that, I promise myself that today I will eat at least one snack or meal with no distractions.

As in one of my favorite movies, What About Bob?, the key to dealing with failure is "baby steps". Gaaahh I wish it could be "giant leap for mankind" steps!