The Diary I Carry

PB Ain't Just Peanut Butter Anymore

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 15:47:00 +0000

I met with my new therapist on Friday and I was really pleased with her. Of course the first time was spent catching her up on my past and what I'm trying to do now. She seemed very receptive to my Intuitive or Normal Eating goals and tackling the emotional issues behind my eating. Next time I plan on taking some of my literature in with me (mainly the Food and Feelings workbook and Karen's new book "Nice Girls Finish Fat") and show her what I'd like to focus on with her in sessions.

In the meantime, I have been taking a more serious look at the LAP-Band surgery. First I went to my local hospital/surgeon's web site and went over all of their extensive information about the surgery and what happens after in their program. Then I went exploring on the web and found some blogs by people who have had the surgery. Not "success" stories hand-picked by bariatric surgery offices that only say how wonderful it is, but uncensored, unfiltered accounts by real people.

I have to say I am not convinced to have the procedure done. I learned a new term today -- Productive Burp, or PB as it's abbreviated on all of these blogs. This occurs once the band is in place when you eat food too quickly or the piece is too big to fit through the opening, and it all comes flying back out. Somewhere I read a recommendation to carry plastic bags with you wherever you go to collect these PBs. Bloggers wrote about PBing into an empty bottle and horrifying their friends with what could also be called Projectile Barfing. This didn't sound very fun at all.

But do you want to know what caused the biggest reaction? When I read that I couldn't drink carbonated beverages any more. I love my seltzer water (flavored, but no sugar or artificial sweeteners), and I looked at that information with a huge amount of sadness. There was a list of other foods that could also cause problems -- fibrous foods, beef, peanut butter (hey, I could PB on PB!) among others -- which all added up to me feeling uneasy about the whole thing.

Is that petty? Am I missing out on something that might benefit me because some foods or beverages would have to be eliminated or greatly reduced? I never eat raw onions because they upset my stomach, but I don't feel bad about that, because it benefits me in the long run. Maybe I would eventually feel the same way about seltzer water and steak. I guess I just don't like those decisions being forced on me.

What bothered me the most, though, was the general feeling from these blogs that they couldn't lose weight fast enough, that the band wasn't limiting their food intake enough, and their doctors were in agreement with this. One blogger said the doctor told her she should only be able to eat half of a frozen diet dinner, which just sounded crazy to me. It just smacked of that extremist diet mentality that I've worked so hard to recover from these last few years.

If any of you know more about this, please let me know. I just know I feel great about the future as far as my therapy as involved, but very wary about the surgical route. I should probably listen to my intuition, right? Or am I just afraid of making a serious commitment?

Decision Time

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 15:29:00 +0000

Well, I survived Tuesday's appointment. I didn't lose a lot of weight since last month -- 2 pounds -- but I consider that a miracle after all the picnics, reunions, birthday dinner and cake, and don't forget the carnival!

It's also amazing when I consider that summer for me has been a disaster stress/food wise for the past several years. The screwed-up family schedule, some part of the house in construction/remodeling chaos, and a variety of other elements I won't mention here always seems to lead me in three possible outcomes: tears, anxiety or mindless eating. I had one such crying bout the other morning when I got overwhelmed by all of it and everyone involved. And while I did kind of let myself go on a free-for-all around my birthday (as most "normal" people do, I think), the majority of my month was really good as far as IE goes.

I am not a fan going to the doctor, which was proven scientifically over this past six months. When I first come in they take my blood pressure and it's always high because I'm so anxious and nervous, but by the end my doctor takes it again and it's always 10 points lower. But I believe having that monthly appointment really helped to keep me on track and accountable. And while I had that monthly supervision, it helped me stay on track and start to establish some new habits that I believe are starting to stick.

I will admit, after the appointment I went home and "splurged": I had two cookies for a snack, allowed myself some fried food for supper, and then in the evening had a small ice cream sundae. That's it. No bags of chips, boxes of cookies, or quarts of ice cream. Compared to even the beginning of the year, this was small in comparison to previous "splurges". And you know what? It didn't agree with me at all! All that rich food upset my stomach, and the next morning I was GLAD to get right back to my "regular" food. A major milestone!

I'm going to admit something here, which I've only told a few people. There was an ulterior motive/reason for these monthly visits. In January when I first went to the doctor he wanted me to consider getting the LAP Band surgery. A requirement to be approved for it is a documented six-month, doctor-supervised weight loss plan. This last visit was the six-month mark, so technically I'm done and I should now make a decision about the surgery.

The problem is I'm completely undecided. I have always and will continue to swear I will never have the gastric bypass. I think it's the mutilation of a well-functioning digestive system. It's way too dangerous and full of risks, not only with the surgery itself, but with the recovery and the long-term problems of malnutrition and loss of bone density. Yes, I know some people who have had success; I also know some people who had a horrible time in recovery, some who have managed to regain a lot of weight despite the surgery, and I have read of the deaths caused by it, too. I just don't see enough positives here for me to ever consider it.

The LAP Band, however, has never received full condemnation from me. It's less invasive, doesn't involve cutting, and rerouting parts of your body, and it seems to cause far fewer problems. But I'm still leery. It still involves inserting foreign objects into your body, and there are always some risks with that.

I admit that I'm wary of the whole process of it. Going to doctors, being evaluated, all the requirements they expect of you before and after the procedure. It feels to me like I'd be selling my soul to the Weight Loss Devil. I could be totally wrong with these impressions, but after a lifetime of doctors, weight loss experts, magazine articles and news reports telling me I HAVE to do this or MUST do that, I'm very gun-shy about being forced to someone else's "rules." I've worked so hard at this intuitive eating process; what if their rules don't coincide or are the complete opposite of what I've tried to accomplish?

But then I look at recent pictures of myself and bemoan the fact that I regained all this weight from my all-time adult low a few years ago. Even though it was still extremely far from our culture's current ideal, I wish I could have that body back and think I'd do just about anything do get it. But then I realize I can't go back on another diet full of "shoulds," deprivation and perfectionism, that it nearly made me snap before, and I'm afraid that's exactly what I'd find in the LAP Band experience.

Of course, I won't know for sure unless I go to the informational meeting and find out what it's really all about. But I keep procrastinating, worried that once I get there they'll give me the hard sell and I'll be pressured into it. However, I know I'm not that weak-willed that I'll allow myself to be talked into something I know I don't want to do. I need to quit procrastinating and letting indecision rule my life.

For now, I'm concentrating on IE, because it seems to be working. Maybe not as fast as weight loss surgery, but progress is progress no matter how small. And on Friday I finally have my first appointment with my new therapist. We had a very brief phone conversation last week, and I told her I'm interested in cognitive behavioral therapy. At the appointment I'll go into more detail, and I'm really hopeful that she'll be able to help me reinforce new beliefs and more productive behaviors that will turn this weight battle around for good.

Surviving the Fourth

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 14:25:00 +0000

In a cruel twist of fate, I was scheduled for my monthly check in/weigh-in with my doctor July 7 -- yes, right after Independence Day weekend. That meant dealing with not one but two picnics laden with greasy burgers and hot dogs, mayo-laden salads and dips, and don't forget the cookies, pies and other desserts.

At first I was filled with dread; then, as the weekend approached I dealt with a big case of anxiety and fear of failure. But I sat with those feelings and did my best to use the cognitive behavioral skills I've tried to pick up along the way. The old belief was that I HAD to do not eat anything, or else I was a failure, loser, etc. And since that was impossible, why not just go "whole hog," so to speak, eat everything in sight, and just go to the doctor on Tuesday feeling miserable, embarrassed, ashamed, etc. Instead, I thought to myself, "I PREFER to eat intuitively this weekend: eat when I'm hungry, eat food I like and eat it until I'm satisfied. If I slip up a little, whether it's eating when I'm not that hungry, or eating past the point of satisfaction, there is no shame in that and it doesn't change my worth as a person."

I think it helped that both picnics were not in my home. Not only did I not have all the stress of getting the house ready for company, but we only had to make a few things and we weren't left with a pile of food when everyone left.

The first picnic was at my uncle's house, and he lives 2.5 hours away. We went there for a change, since we rarely get to see this uncle, his wife, his four kids and their families. There was lots of catching up with each other and re-connecting, plus paying lots of attention to our two-year old cousin who always steals the show, so food wasn't the end-all be-all that day. I sampled everything I wanted to, sometimes only a tiny bite, but that was enough to keep the deprivation monster at bay. I did make an effort to make some healthy choices -- I skipped the bread on my burger, and when I had the urge for snacking, I focused on the fresh fruit and vegetables that were in great supply and tasted wonderful -- and when I wanted something not-so-healthy, I made the serving small and took lots of time savoring it.

I did have a moment that evening that could have led to disaster. My husband thinks it's an atrocity if we don't see fireworks up close and personal on the Fourth of July, so when we got home (at 9 p.m.) we went directly to the fireworks display in a nearby town to watch them with his parents, his brother and his wife. I didn't really want to go -- we had been on the road since 9 a.m. and I was feeling tired and drained. Not to mention the fact that I'm just not that crazy about fireworks. Sure, they can be beautiful, but my husband and his family aren't content unless they're sitting directly underneath them. For me, it's too loud, too bright, and fighting with the traffic when it's over is a nightmare. And that's exactly what happened. I spent most of the presentation with my fingers in my ears -- it was so loud you could feel the booming in your chest cavity -- and half the time shielding my eyes from the ultra-bright flashes. When it was over my mother-in-law asked me if I liked it, and I decided not to hold any punches, replying, "Honestly, I think I like them less and less every year." And to make the evening complete, we got stuck in a horrible traffic jam, and it took us at least 40 minutes to get home, when it normally only takes 10-12.

By the time we got home I was so put out with myself for being Miss Nice and agreeing to go when I really didn't want to that I found myself wanting to gobble down the cookies I had saved from the picnic. But I took that crucial moment to gauge my level of true hunger, and I realized I would only be eating out of anger and frustration, and what I really needed was sleep. So I did.

The next day came picnic #2, which I knew would be the hardest one to survive. This was at my brother- and sister-in-law's house, which has been an infamous location for some historic binge eating in the past. This was my husband's family's picnic, and they are well known for making five times as much food as we really need and all of it as unhealthy as possible, so there were plenty of overeating opportunities. And there really wasn't going to be anything else to do all day except sit around, talk and eat, which is always a dangerous situation for me.

Perhaps the success of the previous day carried over and gave me enough confidence in myself to stay the IE course. I stuck to the same game plan as picnic #1, except for some pre-planning on my part: I brought along a bunch of fresh fruit I had in my refrigerator and used that for my snacking. It was definitely a life saver, because otherwise I would have had very few healthy options. And because they were my favorites -- strawberries and blueberries -- I didn't feel deprived at all.

So, here we are on Tuesday, ready to walk into the doctor's office knowing I was successful in my attempts to be a normal eater. I wasn't a "perfect" eater, I didn't count a single calorie, but I used my wisdom and common sense and felt good about it. I can't guarantee I lost a lot of weight, but I'm sure I didn't gain any. And that's a huge accomplishment for me.

(Not) In Treatment

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 16:05:00 +0000

When I get a chance, I like to watch episodes of HBO's show In Treatment. I have to sneak this viewing in when my husband isn't around, because he doesn't really like the show and calls it "depressing." This makes sense because 1) he's never had a great opinion of psychotherapy and 2) the episodes can be depressing at times. Maybe because I've dealt with depression for the majority of my life I'm somehow drawn to it. Is it because I relate to it so well? I like watching people revealing their inner thoughts to an objective person and often discovering things about themselves they didn't realize before. Yes, it can be sad to see someone falling apart, but I much prefer that emotional/mental drama than some 10-minute fight scene. Which is why I in turn leave the room when my husband turns on a Steven Seagal movie. Gag!

Psychiatrists, psychologists and counselors have played a major role in my life: I just realized I've had more therapists than significant others! I've definitely gone through longer periods in my life without a boyfriend than I have without a therapist.

At the end of May my most recent counselor retired. I was supposed to be referred to another colleague in her office, but I've yet to get a phone call to schedule an appointment. Yes, I've made a phone call to check in, about a week ago. I left a message on the new referral's voice mail, but haven't gotten a reply. I think I may call the person in charge today or tomorrow and see if I can't get any further that way.

This was a tough time for me to go cold turkey. For the last four years summer have been a very chaotic, trying time for me, and I've had major issues with anxiety attacks and difficult bouts of depression over it. Therapy was crucial for me because it was precious "me" time, where I was the focus for once, and I could vent and troubleshoot problem areas in my life. And this summer is no different: yesterday I had a pretty significant melt-down that left me feeling like a fragile, cracked piece of china.

But you know what? Looking back on the day, I actually saw it as a small victory. Instead of shoving down the feelings I was having, which would normally come out later in anger, anxiety and depression, I just left those feelings fly and let myself experience the emotions I was experiencing (frustration, hurt, helplessness). Even better, I didn't go out and comfort myself with overeating after the fact, either. I did go food shopping, but I didn't think once about buying any kind of binge foods. I stocked up on salad fixin's for myself; healthy, energy-packed snacks for my daughter so she can re-fuel after gymnastics practice; and fresh veggies for last night's dinner. Last evening I did find myself attacking my housecleaning with some unusual fervor, but better that than a tub of ice cream!

While it would be nice to have a therapist to tell all of this to, I guess for now I've got enough tools in my mental arsenal to keep me going. However, I've got a lot more summer to tackle, and it would be nice to have that "corner man" (yes, I'm using boxing terminology!) to advise me.

Hanging In There

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Wed, 10 Jun 2009 16:46:00 +0000

Often when I have lapses in writing, it means I'm not doing well; I'm not "journaling" (when did that officially become a verb?) because I'm emotionally shut down and in a bad way.

But this time, the last two weeks or so, I've just been too darn busy, and I've actually been doing pretty well. After foraging my way through the Foodie Fest known as Memorial Day weekend (including one family reunion and two picnics), I felt so bloated and sick of food that I found myself WANTING to eat better and more mindfully. And even though I had more foodie events (family birthday dinner, meals out, movies and a party laden with high-calorie hors d'oeuvres) I had a true desire not to go unconscious and mindlessly overeat. And I didn't!

I admit part of the motivation was another doctor's appointment, which I had yesterday. And I'll also confess that after the appointment I let myself splurge a little (it was the first night of our town's yearly carnival). But unlike the previous few months, where the two weeks or so after the appointment would be a free-for-all, this morning I truly wanted to get right back on the Intuitive Eating track. And I did.

Maybe it's my love of routine, which reduces my stress and allows me to have the illusion of control over some aspect of my life when so much of it is chaos. But it's just easier to get back to the "food plan" I've set up for myself. I use the term food plan in the loosest possible terms: while I do measure just a few things when I'd like to know the suggested portion size, I am not counting calories (which I know is driving my doctor nuts -- he keeps asking me how many calories I'm eating every day and I have no clue). I do eat some "diet" or lower calorie foods or condiments, but only because I like the taste of them. But otherwise I'm pretty much eating what I want.

A big thing I've been working on and getting better at is leaving some food on my plate. Even if it's just a spoonful of food, I try to leave something behind at least once a day. This is usually dinner, because my breakfasts aren't that big and my lunches are usually packed and both are somewhat measured out and portion-controlled. Dinner is more of a free-for-all, served family style at the table, and it's much easier to get big portions and seconds. So that's where it's most challenging -- and in the end rewarding -- to leave something on the plate.

I find when I'm eating out it tends to be bread that I leave on the plate -- restaurant sandwiches are so huge, with the majority of it being the bread or roll, that I wind up leaving half the bread behind, and I can still feel completely satisfied. I do find myself rebelling against ordering salads in restaurants: I make my own salads every day for lunch, and it's rare that I can get one better than mine that are still relatively healthy. I never use iceberg lettuce (I vary between Romaine, Boston, red or green leaf), and the low-calorie dressings in most restaurants are horrible. At home I use almost exclusively the Paul Newman salad dressings. My favorites are the Newman's Own Lighten Up Honey Mustard, Low Fat Sesame Ginger and Balsamic Vinaigrette -- I prefer them over a lot of regular, high calorie dressings. And I like using small portions of dried fruit, nuts and different cheeses like Gorgonzola or feta to jazz up the flavor. Compared to my creations, that little pile of tasteless iceberg lettuce with some nasty chemical-tasting dressing on it isn't worth putting in my mouth!

Unfortunately, in a lot of places it's hard to find something on the menu that's half-way healthy and isn't a salad, so in those instances I just order what I want and try to either leave something on the plate or take the rest home in a doggie bag. I will give props to the Black Bean Burger at Chili's and the Greek Salad at Panera. I got the salad to go the other day and realized they didn't give me any dressing; I went ahead and ate it without it, and it had plenty of flavor just with the feta and kalamata olives on it.

The biggest victory for me was the hors d'ouevres party I mentioned above. This was at a person's house that is often a binge-trigger place for me. I can't count the times I've left there feeling stuffed to the gills and miserable because I went on eating auto-pilot. The hostess is a good cook, and that day the finger food was primarily high-calorie and loaded with lots of sugar or fat -- it would have been so easy to go wild. And this time had an even bigger binge potential because it was attended by a lot of people I don't know very well and not that comfortable with. This is usually the recipe for a major binge episode for me. But I was amazed at my ability to eat a little without feeling deprived. I took one little tartlet (it had cheese and other yummies in it), one little piece of toasted bread with seafood dip on it (super creamy and fat-laden), and a couple bites of the dessert, a chocolate-dipped sugar cone bowl filled with mousse and topped with berries. It was my daughter's dessert, and after she had her couple bites, I took a couple more, then threw the rest away.

Part of my restraint was due to the fact that after the party I was planning to go out with my daughter for dinner and a movie and didn't want to snowball myself into a huge binge. And I didn't: I got a veggie sub for dinner and left half the roll on the plate, and at the movie I got Twizzlers and only ate three pieces of it. In fact, the bag is still sitting in my living room!

I'm not claiming victory here. I'm aware I'm in a good place right now food-wise, and I prefer to stay that way, but I know there will always be bumps in the road. This Intuitive Eating journey has been a difficult one with plenty of relapses, but I guess after trying again and again to implement better habits and beliefs, some of it might finally be sinking in and taking hold.

Change and Commitment

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Thu, 28 May 2009 16:00:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Thu, 21 May 2009 14:46:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Tue, 12 May 2009 12:30:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Fri, 08 May 2009 17:25:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Tue, 05 May 2009 17:26:00 +0000

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

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Mon, 04 May 2009 17:54:00 +0000

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.

AWOL again!

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 15:47:00 +0000

I have been absent again from the blog, and I give my apologies. Part of the reason was the time of year: as a church secretary, Holy Week and Easter are one of the busiest times of the year for me, and there were a couple weeks when I hardly had time to think straight, let alone blog. It's finally starting to slow down now that I've mailed my monthly newsletter (I'm the editor, type in all the copy, design all the pages, fold and label them, plus handle all the bulk mailing duties!) I can take a little breather. In fact, summer is really slow for me at work, and I have to admit I'm looking forward to the lighter schedule.

We also had some upheavals in my home routine. At the beginning of April, after debating over it for the past year, we made the decision to move my daughter from one gymnastics team which was 10 miles away, to another gym that is 40 miles away! In addition, we're bumping up from three days a week, at three hours a pop, to four days a week, with the Saturday class clocking in at four hours! It's meant a lot more running for me, although once we get settled in, I think some of the other parents and I will set up some turns at carpooling. It's already obvious it was the right decision to make; I know my daughter has learned more in the last three weeks than she learned in the last three months at her old gym. Her form is better, and she's definitely increasing her strength.

To add to all this "busyness," I've been dealing with some issues with a medication I take. I take a generic form of Ortho Tri-Cyclen, and last month my pharmacy switched the generics on me. Well, the last couple weeks have been rough. The PMS was rough with major moodiness. Then, when I was supposed to have my "visitor," it was nowhere to be found. And I'm usually as regular as clockwork. I was freaking out and even got a pregnancy test, which did turn out negative. A few days after that, a week after it was supposed to come, it arrived with a fury, with cramps from hell and moodiness that made me feel like a crazy woman. I was near tears three times that day!

It was weird that this "scare" happened right now, because I've been surrounded by a lot of babies recently, and I have to admit I've caught a little baby fever. Even my husband caught a bit of it from me. So we both were really doing some heavy thinking and talking during those days when I wasn't sure. Although in the midst of my hormonal breakdown I ranted to him, "If I had a baby right now on top of all this I'd jump in front of a truck!" So I don't know what will happen now.

To make matters worse, my daughter and I caught some kind of stomach bug, so while I stayed at home with her yesterday and tried to work from home, I was also making frequent and urgent trips to the bathroom.

Needless to say, add this all together, and I haven't been doing that great the last few weeks with my eating and exercising. But it hasn't been a total backslide. I will backtrack a little bit here and say that as of March 27 I had lost almost 20 pounds since January, and on April 8 I got weighed at a different doctor's appointment and was still at that weight. I can't even guess what it is right now, though, after these last two weeks of insanity. I didn't want to weigh myself and bum myself out more. However, my husband did mention yesterday morning that he could tell I've lost weight, so apparently I haven't undone all the work I've done. I have until May 8 until my next check-in with my doctor, so hopefully by then I can regroup and get myself together again.

The biggest bummer is that my exercise is almost nonexistent this month. It's not about using it to lose weight: I've got a 5K race in June and I really want to be able to do it without collapsing! That's me on the right in that picture over there from last year's race, with my friend Jen and my daughter standing in front of us. I've GOT to get myself back to walking regularly and at length, because I don't want to make an a** out of myself. It's just been so darn tough lately to find the time. There are days I'm up at 5:50 a.m., get daughter to school and be at work by 8; out at 3, make an early dinner for my daughter so we can leave by 4:15 to get to gymnastics; run errands during her practice, then get home at 8:45 p.m. and hope to be in bed by 9:30 so I can start it all over again the next day. The good news is, some of the other gym moms want to start walking together when the weather improves (it was snowing here today!), so maybe that will help.

I will do my best to stay more up-to-date here, but I've recently been bitten by another fever: Facebook! It's hard to stay away from it and I've tracked down a lot of friends from my college days, which is v.v. cool!

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Thu, 12 Mar 2009 17:57:00 +0000

The last couple days I've been telling a few people about what I feel is helping me a lot in my current battle with my eating issues. I feel a little weird about doing this, for a couple reasons: number one, I'm rarely one to toot my own horn, number two, I'm one of those superstitious types who are afraid I'll jinx the whole thing and it won't work anymore.

Plus I'm not even that confident that it's working: is it really the placebo effect, or maybe just the arrival of spring? I have to realize, however, that no matter what it is, for whatever reason, it is working.

Last year I started doing some self-hypnosis CDs, and at first they seemed to be working well. I downloaded them into my MP3 player and listened to them at night before I fell asleep, and I liked the positive messages and relaxation techniques in them. But then I fell into my depression and let it slide. While I still like those CDs, I must admit I've tried something new.

Anyone who gets e-mails from a certain book seller probably got inundated with the same e-mails I did about Paul McKenna's book "I Can Make You Thin." I had heard about the TV show of the same name that ran on a cable channel last year, but I never watched it. I'd heard of Paul before -- actually, I remember a number of his appearances on The Howard Stern Show, and he always seemed to be very effective there. So, having a gift card for the book seller, I clicked on the link and looked at the book and its reviews. Since the reviews were primarily positive and I wasn't paying anything out of my own pocket, I ordered the book and figured it couldn't hurt to try.

The book itself it basically a rehashing of the Intuitive Eating principles I've been trying to follow for the past few years. It was a nice repackaging of those "rules" and it was a nice, quick read. Kind of like a refresher course! I then downloaded the CD to my MP3 player and started listening to it at night.

While I'm still cautious about calling myself a success story, for now it seems to be helping me a lot. It happened by degrees over the last two months, but now, for the first time, the IE principles (eat when you're hungry, eat what you want, eat until you're satisfied) feel very second nature to me.

Here's a perfect example: this past Saturday night my husband was craving pizza from his favorite pizzeria. We went and ran into my mother, so we all went together. Mom and I ordered a medium pizza with green peppers and onions (my favorite!) and I dug in and enjoyed every bite. But after two pieces, I looked down at the remaining pizza and just knew that I was done. I was by no means full, but I reached this level of satisfaction I've been calling my "sweet spot." I didn't hear the old voices in my head, the ones that either make me feel deprived for stopping or else urging me on to eat it all.

The best news of all? Last post I was worried about the post-stress need to overeat, and I'm happy to say it never happened. I did have one evening of anxiety, which in the past would have driven me to dig into the boxes of Girl Scout cookies I have sitting in the dining room. Yet I never cracked open a single box.

Again, I don't know if I'm just on a "high" right now and in a few weeks this will all fall to pieces once the novelty has worn off. But for now it's working for me, and I'm going to continue to do it.

Hunger

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Thu, 05 Mar 2009 13:35:00 +0000

This morning I read the newspaper and saw the Cathy comic strip (March 5, 2009, in case you're reading this later). In case you can't find it or see it, Cathy is on yet another diet -- this time the Cookie Diet -- and she's marking off the minutes since her breakfast cookies at 7:15 a.m., exclaiming happily that she's not hungry. Finally, at 9:22 a.m., she announces "I miss being hungry." In the next frame her friend/co-worker says, "Incredible how your mind is completely off of food..." while Cathy replies, "I hunger for hunger!"

Back in January when I was hitting bottom, I went to my therapist and explained to her about hitting this bottom when it comes to food and not sure what I could do about it. In one of those odd coincidences, she had just done some extra research on eating issues, and she asked me a question that really made me think. "Most people overeat as a substitute for something they're not getting in their lives. What are you really hungry for?"

My answer? Well, it wasn't a clear-cut answer, but what it boils down to is that food equals comfort to me. Food doesn't judge me, look down on me, or look for something in return. And this isn't an uncommon notion in our society -- just look at the Lord's Prayer: "Give us this day our daily bread." This isn't just about filling our stomachs; it's about spiritual sustenance, too. From our first days of life our parents answered our cries with the bottle, beginning that connection between food and comfort.

But, unfortunately, people like me take it one or two or a million steps further. Due to life circumstances and our reactions to them, food becomes our only comfort. Or the only one we trust not to let us down. And once those habits are in place, it's so hard to break those connections and look elsewhere for our support. That's why it's so much more than counting calories -- it's learning to change our behaviors, to find other methods and trust other people to comfort us.

Since trying to pull myself out of the abyss in January, I've had some bumps along the way, but I've been very conscious of them and they haven't lasted long. I don't do well with stress, and I've had some pretty stressful moments lately. The funny thing is, I'm getting better about sitting with my emotions and not eating during the stress. But once the worst is over and I'm coming down from it, that's when the urge to overeat becomes the most overwhelming.

I had another one of those moments last night. I was so stressed, so emotional, and I did my best to work through it. I realized the main feelings I was experiencing were fear and helplessness, and being able to pinpoint that seemed to reduce the severity of it, because I didn't let it build out of control into an anxiety attack. My fear is that today I will now want to turn to food to "make it all better." I suppose it's a good thing that I'm very conscious of it, but I can't help feeling a little like Cathy. Without the emotional hunger on auto-pilot, I'm feeling kind of lost and not sure what to do with myself.

I know, I need to now implement those alternative methods of comfort that I've read about in various books and magazines and have written down in lists as I go through this IE process. I listened to a relaxation CD last night, and today I will do my daily exercise. I'm also writing this, which was something I couldn't bring myself to do for the last six months. I also have a good book I'm reading right now, which gives me the escape I crave without filling my belly with candy or cookies. I just hope that after all of this I'm not sitting there like Cathy hungering for my hunger.

Out of the Ashes

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Thu, 26 Feb 2009 15:00:00 +0000

“The phoenix hope, can wing her way through the desert skies, and still defying fortune's spite; revive from ashes and rise.”

Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

Six months. It seems both like a long time and hardly any time at all. Where was I all that time? Good question. Under the wet, heavy blanket of my depression, a blanket soaked with a good deal of stress, burn-out and mental exhaustion from a variety of issues going on in my life.

When I saw my general practitioner in January and he looked at the sorry state I was in, I tried to explain that I spent the majority of the past year fighting depression. His frank reply: "You've been battling depression most of your life, haven't you?" And I couldn't argue with that. I've had anxiety problems since I was 10, and suffered my first serious bout of depression around 14 or 15. It's been a lifetime of struggling.

I apologize to those friendly bloggers who left messages over the past six months. I left off here so positive, and I was nowhere near that mental state and couldn't collect myself enough to even explain. I wasn't only cut off from blogging, I was cut off from myself.

And in that process of cutting off, I ate. I must say, thank goodness, that it wasn't the compulsive, crazed binge eating I was doing at the end of my dieting days -- that was a scary time of hoarding binge foods, sneaking off to eat this "contraband" and mindlessly consuming it until I was often physically ill. I think the combination of the information I've learned from studying Intuitive Eating and the Wellbutrin I was taking kept me from that extreme.
Instead, it was just a "f#!*-it" attitude. I ate whatever I wanted and didn't think once about health or nutrition; it was all about comfort. I made lousy choices all day long. And exercise flew right out the window; other than housework and a little snow shoveling I was living a completely sedentary existence, escaping into TV, movies and reading books from the library.

I guess you could say my doctor's appointment was my wake-up call, my "hitting bottom." I finally realized the dark place I'd fallen into and knew I had to do something to pull myself out of it. I was in a sorry state and not just emotionally. My weight went up, and so did my blood pressure (it didn't help that I was fighting off a panic attack about the appointment before I even walked in the door, plus almost hitting a telephone pole on the icy roads getting to the office!). Fortunately it wasn't dangerously high -- yet -- and my other test results came back okay. My doctor wasn't mean, but he woke me up to the fact that I'm not getting any younger, and the time is quickly coming where my body won't be able to tolerate the excess weight, lousy diet and sedentary lifestyle without serious consequences.

So then I got home, cried, and tried to figure out what in the hell I was going to do with myself. The doctor brought up the idea of Lap-Band surgery, and I actually considered it for, oh, a day. But I realized once again that my problems have little to do with the size of my stomach -- it's about the beliefs in my head combined with my health issues, which include hypothyroidism and PCOS. I don't know if I'd put the depression in the mental or physical column -- it definitely runs in my family, but is that nature or nurture? The same thing goes with my body -- both sides of my family are made of up stocky, German and Eastern European ancestors. But is that genetics or the way our families ate and dealt with food? In any case, it adds up to the fact that I'm never going to have a body like a runway model. I don't think that's a negative belief, just a realistic one.

Putting all that aside, I looked at what were realistic goals and what I could tackle without making myself crazy(ier).

Dieting in the typical sense is out for me. I caught myself in the first couple weeks after the doctor's appointment falling into some dieting mentality (restricting too much, wanting to weigh myself obsessively, etc.) and quickly falling into an anxiety attack. I was lucky in a sense that I had an appointment with my therapist that day, and I was able to talk about the extremes in my thinking. This past year it's either not caring about anything (i.e. depression), or obsessing to the point of anxiety. And my question that day was, how do I find the balance in between these two points?

The biggest things were getting my blood pressure back to a healthier level, which tied directly into getting more physically active again. My doctor gave me a very basic walking program, and even though it seemed ridiculous to start off at 5 minutes a day for the first week, I realized that was my extreme, black or white thinking rearing its head. I looked at it in different, more positive ways: instead of being intimidated by a program that looked really hard and difficult, this was something that sounded very easy to do, and I'd be more apt to doing it because it would be over quickly! But more importantly, those 5 minutes a day would enable me to establish a habit. And it worked. I slowly crept up to 10 minutes a day, and now it's 15.

As fate would have it, a week after my appointment I once again became captain of my church's team for our local newspaper's fitness challenge, which wraps up with a 5K/10K walk and run in June. You keep track of your exercise and weight loss which are converted to points that are added in with your race result. In our case those points go towards a competition with other churches for a "Pastor's Cup" trophy. All of this benefits various charitable organizations in our area. This is my third year as captain of our team, and there is something to be said for having a chart to keep track of your exercise to keep you motivated to keep it up.

As for the food and eating? I'm doing my best with IE and its basic rules: eat when you're hungry, eat what you want, eat until you're satisfied. I am making an effort to make healthier choices, but only those foods that I really like. There have been some instances that I don't make the healthiest choice, or else there's nothing else available, but I took them in stride and didn't attach any bad feelings or guilt to them. I have had a couple instances of stress-eating, but they were limited and did not snowball into a feeding frenzy. I think it's because I was conscious of my actions, which cut down the intensity of my need for it.

Tomorrow I go back to the doctor to find out a) if I've lost any weight and b) if my blood pressure has gone down. While I've tried to stay away from the scale these past six weeks, I did take a peek this morning, just so I'd be prepared for tomorrow's appointment, and it appears I've lost somewhere between 10-15 pounds. I just hope the blood pressure has gone down, too.

I'm not getting too excited about the weight loss. My main focus right now is not about that. My main goal right now is taking care of myself, and that means physically and mentally. I can't go back to sacrificing my sanity for a smaller dress size, yet I can't sacrifice my health, either. So I'm doing my best to achieve balance -- balance in what I eat, balance in putting movement in my life, and balance in finding satisfying "me" time in the midst of working, housekeeping and being a wife, mother, daughter, sister and friend.

My biggest concern right now is the fear of the return of that blanket of depression. Even though I'm feeling better now, how long until it once again takes over and takes all the joy out of life? I'll end with another quote from Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra:

"Our greatest foes, and whom we must chiefly combat, are within."

The Sticky Roll Incident

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Wed, 06 Aug 2008 12:55:00 +0000

About two weeks ago I was having one of those days: the ones where nothing seems to be going right and you want to turn around and go back to bed, hoping you can start all over again and try to get it right the second time. It was also a very hectic day with longer hours at work, then chauffeuring my daughter to her orthodontist, grabbing a quick supper, then going to gymnastics (Mabel's hand is healed now and she's back to hand-springing and round-offing all over the place).

While I was waiting for the three hour (!!!) practice to end, occupying myself with book reading in my car, my cell phone rang and it was my hubby. He announced to me that since I had such a rough day he would have a surprise for me when I got home. By that point the day was almost over, and to be honest, the book reading had done wonders for my mood. Other than being tired from the long day, I actually didn't feel so bad anymore.

So I got home, and there on the kitchen island was an entire half sheet pan (11.5x16.5 inches) brimming with sticky nut rolls. Hubby was so proud of himself, and I must tell you, they looked and smelled fantastic. But to be honest, the very first thought in my head was, "Oh, no..." I did eat one; I had been planning to get some kind of snack on the way home from gymnastics (Mabel's always starving after her workout, and since on those days we eat supper around 4 p.m., by 8 I'm usually a little peckish, too), so I drove straight home, since I knew any surprise from hubby would more than likely be food-related. I guess I was hoping it would be some little individual treat made just for me, not a bevy big enough for a party.

Later I tried to explain to him that I'm learning and actually accepting the fact that food, especially treats like those rolls, cannot really comfort and give me "happiness." I appreciated the thought and effort he put into it, but the food itself is irrelevant, and I can no longer give it that power anymore. Hubby listened and nodded and said, "You're right, you're right..."

I also tried to tell him that making enough for a small army isn't a great idea; I didn't say it to him, but I equated it in my mind to giving a recovering alcoholic a case or keg of beer. He also listened to this and said he would make an effort to give most of the pan of rolls away. Within the next couple days we did just that: I gave some to my pastor and my mom, and he gave some to his parents, too. We even wound up throwing a couple away when they got too old. Out of that enormous pan, I wound up eating two of the rolls, which I considered a major accomplishment.

In fact, in recent weeks I've discovered that I'm doing much, much better with foods that in the past I would consider major binge trigger foods. There is a Mennonite-run bakery and store in our county that makes the best orange iced rolls, and normally when I buy the round pan of them I scarf them all down within 48 hours, and usually feeling sick to my stomach from the fat and sugar overload. About six weeks ago I bought a pan, and they tasted great as usual, but I didn't feel the drive or compulsion to eat them all. In fact, I wound up throwing two of the rolls away when they got stale! That was a completely new experience for me.

This healthier relationship with food has been pretty far-reaching: I can take two pieces of candy out of a full box full and walk away satisfied, whereas in the past I would not be able to pull myself away and the box would be emptied in an evening. This past Saturday my mom went to the local farmer's market and showed up at my house with some Amish-made snickerdoodle cookies. Last summer she got these for me, too, and I remember going wild over them and eating a whole pack of them in a day. This time she gave me four cookies, and I still have two in the plastic container where I'm storing them. We have an ice cream place near our house that's only open from May-October. Last summer we seemed to be there every other day and I always got something, usually a big sundae loaded with tons of goodies. While my daughter still goes fairly regularly, I couldn't tell you the last time I actually got any. The ice cream's still as good, but for some reason I never seem to be in the mood for it at the times she wants to go.

A couple nights ago during Mabel's gymnastics I went to the mega-mart to stock up on essentials: contact saline, deodorant, etc. These trips used to be the big hunt for binge foods, which I would then chow down on in the car until the end of practice, and the rest would be hidden away for secret binge eating later. Two nights ago I walked through the bakery and not a single thing appealed to me. I bought my daughter some cinnamon bagels (she hates raisins and it's really hard finding cinnamon bagels without them!), and the only food-related item I got for myself was seltzer water! I did have a passing thought of, "Hmmm, what treats can I find for myself?" but it was quickly answered with a shrug of indifference and the reply that I don't really need to or want to.

Here's the thing: I'm still eating cookies and ice cream and candy; I'm not telling myself I shouldn't eat them or that I should reduce the portions. Instead I find myself enjoying the amount I do eat, when I'm in the mood for it, and then I'm quite content. I'm not feeling deprived just eating one cookie or skipping a treat entirely, and I'm not obsessing over the remaining candy, cookies, etc., that are still in the house. Sometimes I actually even forget about them! And you know what? It's such a RELIEF not to feel that way. I feel like I've had some kind of demon exorcised from my body and mind. And I'm suspecting that just maybe, this is what "normal" eating is all about.

I'm not saying I have been the "perfect" normal eater. I have had a couple days here and there where I have the munchies and the drive to overeat. But I've noticed that these incidents were times when I felt tired and run-down by too much running around or not enough sleep. So I've been trying to get more sleep and more down time to help combat this. It's great to me to be able to start putting these things together -- for years it always seemed to be such a mystery why I was so preoccupied and needed eating. To be able to pinpoint these things is wonderful to me. And hopefully, I can avoid any more binge eating episodes of weeks and months that lead to more and more weight gain and its accompanying depression.

Vacation-propelled Project

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 14:30:00 +0000

Today I tackled a project I am always procrastinating about -- uploading photos. In this digital age it's so easy to let these pictures pile up until you have hundreds lingering around on these little memory cards. I have a digital camera, my daughter has one that I use a lot, and then there's my cell phone camera, too. So I spent this morning going through all three and realizing it's been MONTHS since I've gone through them.

I've been reticent about looking at any recent photos because of my regain. But I was pleasantly surprised when I found this one at right. It was taken at Easter, when I was feeling particularly bad about myself, and honest to God, I think I look okay. Of course, this isn't a full body shot, which means I get to ignore a lot, but I can see that I still have a neck (believe me, there was a point in my life that I had a lot less of one), and that I can still look fairly decent with a little makeup, etc. The funny thing is, most of the time now I feel pretty much the same about my body as I did when I was thinner. I have certain parts of my body that bother me more than others, and they bothered me just as much if not more when I was spending all my time trying to lose weight. I don't know if I'm starting to finally learn a little self-acceptance, or if it's shoving my head in the sand and living in the land of denial, but I don't seem to detest my body as much as I used to.

The reason I finally tackled the photo backlog was our recent trip to Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. We definitely had a fun time and the weather cooperated with us. I must admit I spent the majority of my beach time under an umbrella reading a good book and listening to my satellite radio (have I mentioned just how much I love Sirius? Our government needs to stop crappin' around and let them merge with XM already!). You also always find yourself people watching, and it was interesting to see the immense varieties of sizes, shapes, colors and ages you see walking around in swim suits. It makes you realize that life isn't a beauty pageant and you might as well just put the suit on and not worry about the cellulite and love handles. Isn't it better to live your life and accept yourself instead of hiding away and never venturing out because we don't meet some unrealistic standard?

Being the foodies we are, vacations have a lot to do with the meals and treats we find away from home. My husband introduced me to this crêperie on a little side street off the main strip. He and his family always went there and reveled in this French delicacy, whether it's sweet (Nutella and strawberries are my favorite), or a savory one like Hubby's ham, tomato and cheese one at right. They also sell croissants, and the big decision is whether to get the crepe or the croissant. My husband, of course, got both. I decided to go with the croissant, and I took one bite of his crepe just to try it. And while it tasted great, that one bite was enough.

In fact, my foodie tendencies were quite subdued on the whole trip. In the past, before we even left home I would stock up on a bunch of snacks for the road trip and the hotel room. This year I didn't do it for myself (although I did get some things for Hubby, daughter and her friend) and I didn't even miss it. The only thing I brought for myself was some flavored seltzer water because I know how hard it is to find in convenience stores and vending machines. Both days at the beach I did not spend the whole time thinking about what I could be eating from the boardwalk. Amazingly, both days at lunch all I ate were my daughter's leftover french fries with vinegar, and I was perfectly satisfied with that. In this instance I didn't mind eating what she left behind because they were the fries most drenched in vinegar. Yum!

I did buy some treats, but not nearly in the volume I have in the past. There's one kind of fudge I absolutely love from a candy store on the boardwalk, and normally I bring a whole pound home and eat every ounce of it. This year I decided to only get 1/4 pound. I ate it all myself, of course, but I felt just as content -- and I probably felt less sick to my stomach -- having eaten so much less.

Now, I was not a "perfect" eater; at supper time I definitely ate a lot, certainly overeating in most books, but I found myself much more particular about what I ate. I didn't clean my plate just because it was there and I didn't want to "waste" it. I was actually okay taking one or two bites of something just to savor the taste of it, and leaving the rest behind.

So I wasn't perfect. But I certainly felt a lot more "normal" about food and eating, and it was a really nice feeling. I hope it's a continuing trend.

Off to Make New Memories (and re-live old ones)

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 12:40:00 +0000

After some discussion, we finally decided to splurge a little with our rebate check and go to the beach this week. We're trying to be a little economical and go Tuesday, Wednesday and come back home Thursday, when the hotel rates are cheaper. Hopefully the beach won't be as crowded during the week, too.

We are going to Rehoboth Beach in Delaware. Since meeting my husband we've been going annually, which was fun for me because before that I hadn't gone since I was six years old. In those days my mother's cousin owned a beach house down the coast on Dewey Beach, and we (my mom, sister and I) would go down with cousins or friends while my Dad and his friends would go out west to fish for trout. This "girl trip" was always a lot of fun, even that last year when I had to go with my finger wrapped up in bandages after breaking it in a freak door-slamming accident. I can still vividly remember distracting myself while my mom changed the dressing on it (it looked pretty gross to a 6 year-old) by reading my first Wonder Woman comic book.

Sometimes I really think I have some sort of psychic abilities. I'm not saying I can foretell the future or find missing children, but there are these uncanny coincidences always seem to happen to me and the people close to me. A lot of it happens with the phone: sometimes I'll know exactly who's on the phone and what they want before I even see the Caller ID; more than once I've picked up the phone to call someone, and before I can dial the phone rings and it's them. Or I get the call through and it just so happens they were getting ready to call me.

I'm not going to go into the whole long list of incidents, but here's the most recent one. I have not talked to my dad since last Sunday, so I haven't informed him that we're going to Rehoboth. Yet this morning I checked my email and saw a message from my dad -- which is odd enough, because he rarely e-mails me -- which contained these photos. (Sorry they're small -- it's all I could download and save from Dad's email)

I had almost forgotten that my dad and his friend owned a boat called the Rusty Nail -- yeah, a real luxury yacht! -- and they kept it docked on the Indian River Inlet, which is in the Rehoboth area. That's me in the photo on the left, dressed in pink and looking like I'm on the telephone with someone. Even though it was so long ago -- in my preschool days! -- I can still remember pieces of these adventures out to sea, posing for the camera and holding a fish that was as long as I was tall, staying in our friend's camper, even the night we had a flat tire on the Bay Bridge. They were such fun times, in the days before my parents' marriage went downhill and life was still carefree and happy.

Maybe that's why I still have this fondness for these trips to Rehoboth, and I now try to create new happy memories for my daughter in this same location. Coincidentally, my husband and his family also made many summer trips to this beach, too, so we're both able to relive our childhoods through these visits. I'll try to take some photos while we're there and share them with you when we get back.

Leaving Food on the Plate

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 17:06:00 +0000

For the past two weeks I've been plugging away at this Intuitive Eating business, and I have to say it's been going pretty well. I've been reading my IE e-mails (I'm signed up for a couple yahoo forums that send me digests of posts), as well as finding some new resources online and in book form.

Here's the biggest accomplishment, and I'm willing to attribute some (if not a lot) of this to the Intuitive Eating hypnosis/meditation CD I've been listening to every night. More and more I'm able to leave food on my plate -- even throw it away!!!-- and not feel anxious, unhappy or deprived when I do it. This has been one of my biggest challenges, and it feels so liberating to be able to dump that food in the garbage and not be gripped by this compulsive need not to "waste" it.

I come from a family who shares this fear of wasting or throwing something away, just in case "you might need it later." So I know part of it is a learned belief that has been ingrained into my head all of my life. In the case of food, even if it wasn't that good, or if a certain food lost its appeal half-way through, I'd eat it all anyway because doing anything else would be (gasp!) wasteful.

But part of it, too, is the whole issue of deprivation and in turn "treating" myself with food. I have always felt that if I didn't eat everything on my plate --even if I was full or if it wasn't all that good -- I was taking comfort away from myself, in other words punishing myself.

For a long time I've been reading about changing my beliefs, which would then change my behavior (otherwise known as cognitive behavioral therapy), but it always seemed so difficult to put that theory into practice and actually believe it. But right now it all seems to be clicking. Instead of feeling deprived, I feel I'm giving myself the very best of my meal and not wasting my time -- perhaps even punishing myself ?-- with food that doesn't meet my standards.

For example, the other night we ate out for dinner. My meal came with two little rolls (2 to 2.5 inches in diameter), a dinner roll and a sticky roll. My daughter ate the dinner roll because it's her favorite. I looked at my sticky roll and noticed that the edges looked dry, but the center looked moist and tasty. In the past, not wanting to "waste," I would eat the edges first and save the best part for last. That way even though the whole thing wasn't that delicious, at least the last bite would be great.

This time, however, I picked the edges off and put them aside, and I only ate the center. My husband looked at my plate of discarded roll in a quizzical way, and I tried to explain to him that I only ate the best part and didn't bother with the rest. The best part was, I wasn't doing it because I "should" to be a good Intuitive Eater; it's what I truly believed.

The real test for me was this past July 4th weekend. I had two family picnics and a two meals out with my friends, events that have always led me to compulsive eating that left me feeling stuffed and miserable. At both picnics and the dinner party at my friend's house I was really selective on what I put on my plate. At the first picnic and the dinner party I chose to leave food on my plate and even threw it away. At the second picnic I did clean my plate, but I noticed that I picked up much less food than I usually do and did not continue to pick at things the rest of the day. At the meal out with my friends, I ordered less food than most people at the table, and I actually wound up being one of only two who brought leftovers home, which I ate today at lunch.

Throughout all of these meals/events I did not feel compelled to eat and eat and eat because it was there or because "everyone else is doing it." I by no means estimated calories or the "fattening" quotient of the food I selected. I picked what looked delicious to me, and if it wasn't, I didn't finish it.

I can't tell you if I'm losing weight. For one, I haven't weighed myself. And I don't want to, because I know it will trigger nothing but negativity whether the number's up or down. If I've gained, I'll get bummed out and feel like I'm not making "progress;" if the number's down, my perfectionism will kick in and I'll be tempted to start restricting or counting calories to do even better. Right now I'm rating my success by other means: my clothes aren't getting tighter; I don't walk away from a meal or end the day feeling stuffed and miserable; I don't feel anxious, resentful or deprived. Psychologically speaking, those are much healthier guidelines for me to follow right now.

Once I start digging into the new books and resources I've been investigating, I'll let you know what I think. Hang in there!

A Fresh Start?

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Wed, 25 Jun 2008 16:13:00 +0000

I don't know if it's the birthday, the beginning of summer, three weeks of using the Intuitive Eating hypnosis CD, my PCOS medication kicking in or any combination thereof, but this week I've finally, after months and months, felt like trying to try again to become a normal eater. For the past three days I've done my best to be more conscious about my eating, as well as catching up and reviewing IE material online. So far, so good.

It could just be that I've hit rock bottom, too, and there doesn't appear to be anywhere to go but up. The past few months have been a process of realization for me. Mostly that for the past year I had simply given up and didn't care anymore -- about tackling my eating issues or even working on non-food issues. Let's face it -- I didn't care about anything, including myself. Call it depression, a breakdown, whatever; but it has definitely been an emotional, physical and spiritual trough that has left me feeling pretty lousy about myself. I have realized that this is something that isn't going away and I have to cope with for the rest of my life, just like if I was diabetic, had cancer, you name it. I will always have a tendency for depression, and I will always have to be aware that food is my biggest form of self-medication.

Maybe this is all part of a process of metamorphosis for me. Perhaps this past year has been an incubation period, and if I'm lucky, I'll break free from this cocoon I've been in and emerge as a butterfly and not a gypsy moth. I know in my IE reading it's been stated that becoming a normal eater takes time -- even years -- until one is finally free of the old diet mentality or disordered thoughts about food and emotions and the new rational beliefs become ingrained. And in many of the cases I've read about there have been periods where there is a gaining and free-for-all period before reaching a saner, more intuitive state.

I know, it's only been three days, and in the past few months I've had a week here and there of "clarity," only to fall back into my old ways again. But like emerging from that cocoon, it takes work and effort to break through, and I'm beginning to accept the fact that this is going to be a long process. In fact, I may have to work at this for the rest of my life. But I have to remember that working towards something is better than giving up and doing nothing.

By the way, I never mentioned here that after a few weeks, my neck/arm pain has pretty much gone away. Again, it's something I'm going to have to continue to keep an eye on, but for now, thank goodness, I'm not in pain.

You Live in a Zoo...

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 11:15:00 +0000

Yes, today is the day of my birth. Long long ago, longer ago than seems possible, I entered life around 6:50 a.m. EDT. Maybe that's why I'm such a morning person now.

I think I'll take this day to reflect on others who share my special day.

Garfield the cartoon strip began on this day, and so it's the cat's birthday, too. As a kid I always used to think it was cool to share this day with Garfield -- he was very popular at the time. My sister in particular really liked the cartoon and had books of the strips. At one point my mom named one of our dogs Odie after the canine that shares his home, and one of my best friend's nickname is Nermi, Garfield's sickeningly cute nemesis. I have to admit I haven't been that thrilled with the recent Garfield movies, and while the idea of the Garfield ride at Kennywood Park is nice, the ride is woefully antiquated and could use some major upgrades.

Later on I discovered that Ann Wilson of Heart also shares my birthday. I've discussed before how I've felt a kind of affinity for Ann and have found several similarities in our lives (other than her being a massively talented musician and incredible vocalist, while I'm definitely NOT). We both have sisters who are blonde, we both have adopted children, and we both have struggled with our weight. Oh yeah, we're both huge Led Zeppelin fans, too! In the one instance in my life that I got hit on by a woman at a bar I was told I looked like Ann. While the incident freaked me out a little bit, I was in the end complimented immensely by the comparison. I always felt bad in the 80s when the video directors turned her sister into a sex symbol while Ann was relegated to close-up face shots in near darkness because she didn't meet the skinny rock slut standards. (Not that Nancy is a skinny rock slut, either! I think she's great, too). But I'm glad that Ann has continued to perform and look great, no matter what her size.

Other famous people who share my birthday are Nancy Marchand (Tony Soprano's mother and Lou Grant's publisher), author Salman Rushdie, Stooge Moe Howard, Serial Mom Kathleen Turner, baseball legend Lou Gherig, Wallis Simpson, who led King Edward VIII to give up the British crown, amongst others. Phylicia Rashad is one of them, but I have to say that fact always makes me cringe, because I always detested her character as Mrs. Huxtable on The Cosby Show. I realize TV is not reality and she is probably nothing like the character she portrayed, but I guess I'm petty and superficial. And as for Paula Abdul, who's also celebrating today, I don't know what the **** is up with her!

In history, today had some highs and lows. The Rosenbergs were executed for treason; slavery was outlawed in the U.S.; Father's Day was first celebrated; the Civil Rights Act of 1964 was approved; and the F.C.C. was created.

As for my personal history, yesterday two of my girlfriends took me out for Mexican (yea strawberry margaritas!), today I'm at work, but tonight my husband and daughter are taking me out for sushi (yea California roll!). And tomorrow night we'll have cake after watching my daughter's performance in "The Princess and the Pea" as Bride #2. I can't wait!

Puzzled

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Tue, 17 Jun 2008 18:39:00 +0000

mabel

I am so hooked on puzzles right now. I know, it's feeding into my OCD tendencies big time, but there are times it keeps me from overeating, so I guess it's a positive.

Will write more soon. I swear.

Adventures in Boredom

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Wed, 04 Jun 2008 16:06:00 +0000

Remember yesterday when I said how quick and easy it was to get Mabel x-rayed and splinted at the ER? Well, I wish it had been that fast at the orthopedic doctor's office. It took TWO AND HALF HOURS for her to be seen and get a cast on her arm. I think 40 minutes was spent in the waiting room, another 15 minutes waiting in the exam room for the doctor. We saw her for 5 to 10 minutes, then had to wait another 45 minutes in the exam room for the physician's assistant to get to us to cast her. This took the rest of the 2 1/2 hours.

My wonderful daughter did manage to entertain us with her antics. In the waiting room she was writhing in agony over her boredom. I asked her why she didn't bring her Nintendo DS along, and her reply was fast and mumbled (as usual), and I was sure she replied, "I wanted Lucky Charms but they died." This made us all laugh, and Hubby and I went on to ask her if it was the green pots of gold or the blue moons that actually died. In truth, she forgot to charge her DS, and that's what was dead.

During the interminably long wait in the exam room, Mabel was continuing her roller coaster ride of giggles, whining, mock crying, then back to the giggles again in this bizarre cycle of mood swings. During one of the whiny periods she asked us, "Do I have to go to Camp Aldo Nova?", referring to our unusually-named church camp (and it doesn't even remotely sound like Aldo Nova, by the way!). Hubby and I looked at each other and burst out laughing, both bursting into scary renditions of "Fantasy." This definitely helped relieve the drudgery of sitting there in the empty vacuum of a doctor's office.

But we finally got the heck out of there and manged to get back to our hometown just as the rain began, dampening our opportunity to go to our local volunteer fire department's carnival/block party. This has been a tradition in our town for generations, and every kid in the area looks forward to the week of rides, games, cotton candy, funnel cakes and candy apples. The adults play Bingo, eat hamburgers and hot dogs in our hometown bakery's rolls that everyone adores, and moan over how much money their kids beg them for to play "just one more game." We managed to get our supper and dessert, but it was too wet to ride, and we didn't really want Mabel out in the rain with her new cast. She was bummed, but I promised to take her later in the week. Hopefully the weather forecast will improve for us. But rain on Block Party week is pretty much tradition in these parts, too.

I must say the last two days my neck/shoulder/arm issue has been much better. There's still a little pain and ache there, but vastly improved from a week ago. Maybe I'm on the mend. Let's hope so.

Hand Out

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 12:14:00 +0000

I am not the only one in the house who is having physical problems right now. This past Thursday, the next-to-last day of school, my daughter (who I've referred to as Mabel in the past) broke her hand at the school carnival. She was trying to soak her teacher in the dunking booth and hit the target with the ball, but not hard enough to activate the dunker. The rule was that if this happened, the kids were allowed to go up and hit the target with their hand.

I'm assuming the apparatus was something like this image at right, because from what I've been told, once she hit the target with her hand, it sprang back and smashed the back of her hand. In typical drama queen fashion, I'm told she fell to the ground (which for 24 hours both the school nurse and I thought was the only thing that happened), then leapt up and gave the Ronnie James Dio rock 'n roll hand (with the uninjured hand) and yelled, "I'm alright!"

But she wasn't. She went to the nurse, gave one of her indecipherable explanations that make adults' heads spin, and got an ice pack. She came home, gave me a similarly convoluted tale, so I continued the ice packs and Ibuprofen. She didn't complain of a lot of pain, and the hand wasn't discolored, but I started to worry the next morning when the swelling didn't seem to be going down. It was the last day of school, and they only stayed for two hours, so I sent her with a note for the teacher to send her back to the school nurse for her second opinion. Once my daughter returned to the nurse she finally gave the full story of the killer dunking booth, so she called me and let me know, and it was pretty obvious that I needed to get this looked at.

I called the orthopedic doctor we went to three years ago when, again, on the last day of school, we took our Danger Prone Daphne there to cast a broken leg. Like me, we once again dealt with the medical rural community; no one who could cast her would be in the office until Tuesday. So when Mabel got off the bus we got in the vehicle and went to the ER. The good thing about rural medicine is that our emergency rooms tend to be pretty quiet, especially during the day. So we had a very short wait (probably shorter than most doctors' offices) and got right in to get x-rayed. Sure enough, there's a broken bone in the center of her hand, the bone below the middle finger. They put a splint on her hand and forearm and put it in a sling, and we were out of there in about an hour. Not bad.

Here's the cute 9 year-old part: At first Mabel didn't know what a splint was and was really scared about it. Once it was explained to her, she calmed down, but then asked me if she could get a splinter from a splint. Then, after we got the diagnosis and the nurse went off to get the supplies, Mabel turned to me and said, "I bet I'm gonna' get a slingshot!" At first I didn't know what she meant, but then of course I figured out she meant sling. When her daddy showed up at the end of the procedure she proudly showed him her "splinter in her slingshot."

Of course, we still have to get it casted, and that happens this afternoon. I think my daughter was born shot out of a cannon, and it's been incredibly difficult these past few days to keep her from leaping about, balancing on curbs, crawling into our Suburban through the window. We keep explaining to her that she needs to be careful until we can get her hand in the cast, but she can't seem to control her unending energy. It's also a major bummer because now she can't do her gymnastics, which she is so good at, and now she's going to fall behind, especially with her upper body strength. Besides that, she can't play piano, ride her bike or roller blade. If she's lucky she'll get a waterproof cast, or else she can't go swimming, either. What a way to start summer vacation.

So in a way we're having some mother-daughter bonding with our bum arms. One thing we can do is walk, and since we are both participating in a 5k walk June 14, I've been taking her out to train by walking around town. We're up to 2 miles now, and I have to say I'm a little surprised that her stamina isn't better. This child works out hard at gymnastics 4 to 6 hours a week -- the child has fantastic muscle tone -- but I realize now that the majority of that work is in short, fast bursts. They run laps, but only for a few minutes. She's not used to walking non-stop for 45-50 minutes straight. So it's definitely a conditioning experience for her, and we also get to talk and experience things together without a television or computer screen in front of us.

What a Pain

noreply@blogger.com (Andrea K) — Mon, 02 Jun 2008 17:11:00 +0000

Okay, I realize it's been almost a month to the day since I've posted last. I'm not pleased with that, and apologize to those who've posted messages here and I haven't responded right away.

For three and a half weeks I've been dealing with nearly constant pain in my neck, shoulder and arm, with some infrequent tingling in both arms. For those of you who have been with me from the beginning of my blogging life, you'll know about my previous problems in this area, which is fully documented in this old blog entry.

I have tremendous respect for people who deal with permanent chronic pain, because these past three weeks have been tough. I rarely get through a full night's sleep without waking up with my shoulder and arm in agony.

You may wonder if I'm getting this treated. Almost two weeks ago I called my surgeon, but it right before Memorial Day and he was away. To add to it, he is based out of Pittsburgh and only visits our Podunk little area once a week. But the nurse knew me from my previous visits there and took my health insurance information. The hope was that we could get an MRI scheduled and the doctor could have it on hand when I have my appointment. Well, because MRIs are so expensive, my health insurance won't approve it until they receive doctor's "notes." So now I have to wait until June 23 to even see the guy so he can write something up, THEN wait for approval from the health insurance, then get the MRI scheduled, have it done, then wait God knows how long to get another appointment with the doctor!

So in the meantime I'm popping Ibuprofen, trying to do the stretching exercises I learned in physical therapy last time, and icing the shoulder down. I did heat at first, which turned out to be a mistake, because while it felt good at first, it seemed to make the area even more inflamed later, and seemed to be causing the excruciating pain I was having at night. The cold treatment has cut that down greatly, thank goodness. It's still not gone, though. Sleeping involves a complicated operation of body and pillow positioning that still never gives me a completely pain-free night.

On the bright side, I really think the Clearing Emotional Blocks hypnosis CD I started last month has kept me sane through all of this. My irritability and frustration has been quite low, and I can only attribute my level of tolerance and calm to that half an hour I spend every night listening to the CD and relaxing my body while listening to those positive, affirmative statements and suggestions.

In fact, I truly believe the CD has helped me throughout my life. I'm much more patient with my family, which I'm really glad about because I didn't like how frazzled I would get in the mornings trying to get my daughter despite her lack of organization and tiny attention span. I feel calmer throughout the day and have found it easier to speak my mind in a calm, confident way. I have had a goodly number of stresses in my life right now -- I'll get to some here when I can -- and I'm amazed that I've been able to handle them as well as I have.

Now that my first month is over, I'm now beginning a month of the second CD, Intuitive Eating for Weight Release. I'm really hoping the CD will help me as much as the first one has.