Change and Commitment

As I was going through my morning routines I was thinking about change, or the lack of it, and how I felt about it.

Yesterday I had my final appointment with my therapist, who is retiring. I realized I've been seeing her since 2003, which is the longest I've ever stayed with one therapist. That's saying something, since I've been going to someone off and on since the mid 80s! Some of that has to do with the fact that since I graduated high school (20 years ago today, gulp!) I have made major moves four times, and within those four basic locations, I've lived in 12 different domiciles!

I then realized that other than my time with Dr. Karen and being a mother (for 10 years now), most of my adult "commitments," be they residences, jobs or relationships, have never been longer than 5 years... until now. In July I will have been in my current job five years, and in August I will have known my husband for 5 years. (I am excluding friendships in this list -- I must say the majority of my friends have been very long-term -- some since elementary school!)

I've discovered a strange paradox about myself in this train of thought. As much as I crave control and routine, I've consistently thrown myself into chaos by changing jobs and or locations. In most of the job situations I've seen the "writing on the wall" that I need to get out, move on, or go bonkers. Actually, my one relationship was that way, too. Part of me worries that I ran away from these situations rather than stick it out, but I'm pretty sure that I tried my best and realized when there was nothing more I could do to make it better. And I'm pretty confident that if I had remained in those situations that I would be a miserable soul.

As I ponder the longevity of my current job and relationship, I would like to think that I've managed to learn from past mistakes and was able to search out positive environments. No job or relationship is perfect, but my basic criteria are being met. In my job, I have some independence to work at my own pace, and I've got the flexibility to be able to juggle my job as mother, too. I truly feel appreciated and I believe I can make a difference in people's lives.

In my relationship I am with a person who is not afraid to be affectionate and share his feelings, and he's willing to discuss things and diffuse them before they blow up into big problems. These are so important to me, because it's something I never had before.

But as I move into the long term with many situations in my life, I do have some apprehensions. As much as I like my current stability, I do have these fleeting moments of restlessness. The positive side of that is being a person who is always looking for something new to learn and grow as a person. But I notice this trend I have of not finishing a lot of things in my life: I often start a project or hobby then let it drop. It happens with my efforts at tackling my eating issues, too. Once in a while I may come back to it for a little while, but I don't seem to have the sticktoitiveness to complete a lot of things. Is it fear of commitment, adult ADD? Or maybe something else I haven't even grasped yet. I don't know.

I am starting with a new therapist, probably next month. Maybe I can tackle these issues with her.

Ten Years Gone

Ten years ago today, in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, I participated in a Giving and Receiving Ceremony that made me the mother of a precious little girl. In a way it seems like eons ago, yet I can still remember the excitement, nervousness and major jet lag I was experiencing. My life was changing forever, and while I was thrilled about it, it was a little frightening, too, because I was now responsible for this child's well being.

That was abundantly clear 10 years later -- last night, to be exact -- when I found myself riding in an ambulance, looking down at this same child strapped down and immobilized as we headed to the ER. She landed wrong during gymnastics practice (doing a back tuck, if any of you know what that is!) and hyper-extended her neck. Even though she was moving all her extremities, her coach and I decided calling 911 would be the wise thing to do, just in case there was something wrong that we couldn't detect.

So we spent two hours in the ER, most of that waiting for the results of the CAT Scan. I'm kind of amazed at how well I took the whole evening in stride. Maybe it was shock, denial or disassociation, but I didn't freak out, I didn't cry, and I wasn't overcome with worst-case scenarios. In fact, she and I were acting like two big goofballs and giggling ourselves silly trying to kill time until we got the scan results.

We were very fortunate that there was no serious damage. She's sore today and staying home with Daddy (who has paid family sick leave) while I try to finish up my work before the holiday weekend. I think the potential seriousness of the event is hitting me more today, now that it's over and I'm working on very little sleep. It could have been a catastrophe, but the fates smiled upon us and let her walk out of there -- and craving french fries, to boot!

I'm going to try to get out of here early today and go home to my family, maybe get a nap, and be grateful that we're all healthy and together.

Here We Go Again

On Monday my dear husband started his low carbohydrate diet. He got this plan from some doctor or hospital back in the Atkins/South Beach heyday and lost a considerable amount of weight on it the first time he did it.

My sweetheart always tells everyone how well this diet works, and I always have to bite my tongue. Okay, in theory, the diet is supposed to work because by drastically reducing carbs and eating more protein and fat, our bodies are supposed to naturally lose by burning stored body fat more efficiently. But let's face it: any diet that reduces calories will work, but how effective is it when you hate doing it, and once you quit doing it, you gain all if not most of the weight back that you've lost. By Monday night my husband was already craving carbs, so I'm sitting back and waiting to see what happens.

Now, don't think I'm not being a supportive wife. I went grocery shopping last night and got him supplies for his diet -- green veggies and full-fat salad dressing, meats and cheeses, and nuts for snacks. But at the same time, I have a daughter who is in top physical condition from competitive gymnastics and is what I consider a normal eater. She needs a well-balanced diet for her three-hour gymnastic practices, and an essential part of that is carbohydrates. The trick with her is steering her towards healthier carbs. While her adoration of white rice knows no bounds, she has no problem with brown rice and will also eat other grains like quinoa. She also really loves beans, especially Lima beans. So I need to make sure she's getting that part of the food pyramid while her father is abstaining.

As for me, I'm watching myself for signs of "second-hand deprivation." In the past, whenever my husband went on one of his diets, I always seemed to do my worst with my eating. It was as if I was driven to overeat in rebellion of his restricting. This was really frustrating and confusing to me, because one would think it would be easier to be careful with my eating when the person I lived with was doing it, too. But I've realized that just witnessing and being around his dieting would set off the "feast or famine" response in the caveman recesses of my brain.

In fact, last night as I was wandering through the grocery store, I found myself on the hunt for something super carby to chow down on for an evening snack -- my 21st century version of the Woolly Mammoth hunt, I guess. But fortunately, something from all my IE work must be sticking, because nothing I saw appealed to me, and I've come to a place in my eating where I won't just buy any old junk to cram in my pie hole. If I'm going to eat it, I have to really love it. And nothing in the store reached those qualifications. The best thing was, instead of feeling bummed about not finding anything, it actually felt very empowering.

After my daughter got out of gymnastics she was starving (as usual), and her new fixation is Dairy Queen. She wants to go there all the time, and of course I usually get something, too. I've been trying various things, and I've realized that the size of the treat keeps getting smaller and smaller. Now I know a Buster Bar is NOT a low calorie, fat-free treat, but it's definitely smaller size and calorie-wise than a lot of stuff on their menu. And I'm actually more satisfied because it's what I prefer. I figure it's better than getting something sugar and fat free that tastes like cardboard, then going home and eating even more to make up for that disappointment.

I think what will really help me in this new challenge is a book I just got in the mail. I read some recommendations for it on one of the "normal" eating forums that I lurk on, so I thought I'd give it a go. I will let you know my findings very soon.

Motivation

Today I have been cleaning the house and really hitting it hard. It's the cleanest the house has been in ages. Why? I have company staying over tonight.

As I mentioned in the previous post, I am a control freak and hate chaos. That definitely includes my house -- clutter and chaos there makes me nuts nuts nuts! Yet why is it that I need outside motivation -- someone else coming to visit -- to propel me into high-octane cleaning?

I realized the same thing goes with my eating and my weight. I'd like to be a "normal" eater and achieve a healthier weight, yet why is it that I can't get motivated unless I have the threat of an impending doctor's appointment and stepping on his scale?

Again, what is going on inside of me that won't make the effort unless there's an outside force? Is it some basic lack of self esteem and negative thinking that doesn't think I deserve it? Do I think other people's opinions -- guests, doctors -- are more important than mine? Or do I fear their criticism more than I do my own?

Let's face it, most people follow the rules because there are consequences. Some of them are negative: We wouldn't worry too much about speed limits if there were no speeding tickets. We don't break laws because there are possible fines and even jail time. And then there's the positive reinforcement: would we care about doing well in school if we didn't get the A? Would we try to make the sales quota if there wasn't a commission or bonus tied to it? Most humans need rules and consequences, sometimes rewards and punishments, to motivate us to do the right thing.

I guess for me, dealing with my eating creates mixed signals in my head. While I know logically that it is better for my body and mind to eat healthier, i.e., a reward, it's hard to not feel deprived -- a form of punishment -- if I restrict or try to eliminate certain kinds of foods. And my reaction to that threat of punishment is to run away or rebel.

For example: yesterday I was reading a magazine that included a big section on one of those "get healthy now!" programs, and as I leafed through their suggested meals and treats I actually started to get anxious! Just the thought of "you can't have that" and "you have to eat this" sends me into that spiral of diet mentality that always has the reverse psychology effect on me. "I can't have it? Well, then, by God , I'm gonna' eat it twice as much as I did before!"

I am SO much happier when I eat intuitively. I have choices and don't have a huge list of don'ts and shoulds and no-nos hanging over my head. I'm not obsessing every minute of the day over how many calories I've consumed and how many more I'm "allowed" to have that day. The thing is, it is work focusing in on what my body actually wants and needs, and paying close attention to
those signals of hunger and satiety instead of following the rules of eating at this time and never eating after a certain hour. I'm sure when I was very young this was all automatic to me, but I "shoulded" myself until I lost that ability. Now I have to relearn it, which can be difficult when I'm trying to counteract the years of irrational thinking and emotional ties I've used instead.

My doctor's appointment is in an hour. I sure hope there isn't too much punishment in store for me.

Control Freak

I thought a lot about yesterday's post and the comment I made that breakfast and lunch were not a problem because those were the most controlled parts of my day. There is obviously a direct correlation between chaos in my life and the chaos in my eating, and it's something I really need to explore.

Just today someone said to me that I am very easy going and down-to-earth. I know I come off that way, but like my mother very astutely commented about me recently, "They just don't know all the turmoil that goes on below the surface." That's been my problem all my life -- suppressing my emotions, feelings and opinions. And here's the irony of it: I've done it to protect myself from the possible rejection, ridicule, and anger of others; but in doing that, I've caused so much damage by holding those emotions inside and not asserting myself.

The older I get, the more I realize how much of a control-freak and perfectionist I can be. I don't like chaos and drama; I don't like it when someone else holds the cards and causes problems in my life; and I often have to fight off that irrational thought "if it isn't done right, why bother doing it at all?" That comes into play a lot both in my work life and at home. Whether it's a task at the office or a housecleaning chore, it's very difficult for me to hand it off to someone else, dreading that it won't be done correctly and that I'll have to do it over or correct it later.

I think about all of this, because after ruminating over the first paragraph, my initial response was to figure out how to gain some control over the parts of my day that have become chaotic. I started thinking about how to do it "right" and how I could pre-plan and fix the situation. But then I realized, the REAL problem, the REAL solution I need to find, is how to learn to live with the chaos without falling apart! Because let's face it, no one can completely control every aspect of their lives, and chaos will always exist. How can I become more tolerant, more accepting of my lack of control over the universe? And how do I change my current coping mechanism, which is "treating" myself with food?

I made a step in the right direction today, at least as far as asserting myself. Rather than continuing to stew and steam over something that was making me crazy, I addressed the issue head-on with the person involved. I had a lot of anxiety doing this, but I knew I had to get it off my chest, even if the person got mad at me. And once again, I was pleasantly surprised that the person was very receptive and even complimented me and thanked me for all I do.

Now if I can tackle this control issue without being a control freak about it!

Been There, Done That

This past week Kirstie Alley has been the target, punching bag, object of ridicule, etc., because she came out on the Oprah show and admitted she regained the weight she very publicly lost. God bless her, I know what she's going through on several levels, although I consider myself lucky that I don't have paparazzi following me around calling me "fat a**." People are probably thinking it and muttering it to themselves behind my back, but at least it's not being yelled at me in airports or malls.

This came at an interesting time for me. I have another doctor's checkup this Friday, and I know it's not going to be fun. I haven't done well at all lately with the weight loss and exercise, and I totally expect to have gained when I step on the doctor's scale. I'm already trying to prepare myself for the fallout I'm going to get for it.

The sad thing is, when I get this way, even an upcoming doctor's appointment doesn't seem to give me the incentive to get myself into gear. "This way" includes major moodiness, prone to tears or anger, and a major lack of energy. Add a hectic schedule to the mix, and I'm reduced to getting the very basics done (work, basic housekeeping) and not being able to muster the motivation to attempt anything else. That means exercise for sure.

As far as eating, I do my best with breakfast and lunch to be a "normal" eater, as far as portion sizes and healthy food goes. It helps that it coincides with my most orderly and routine part of the day. After that, however, as my life goes chaotic, so does my eating. Definitely way too much night time snacking! I guess I should focus on that chaos=eating relationship and figure out how to combat that. Recognizing it is the first step. Doing something about it is the second. And sometimes that even goes well. At first. But then I lose motivation, the stressors of my life get the better of me, and I'm realizing more and more that I need help and support to keep it from collapsing once again.

I'm quickly coming to the realization that things really need to change in my life. It hasn't congealed into a formal plan, but I think within the next month or so, I have to come to some conclusions and make some real decisions. I'm sure Friday's appointment will contribute to that. And I have to realize that I can't do it all by myself. It's always been exceedingly hard for me to ask for help, but if I ever want to get some real progress in my life, it has to be done.