Been There, Done That

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

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

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

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

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

Out of the Ashes

“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."

Vacation-propelled Project

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.

Expectations

On the second day of our trip we did the typical tourist experience by taking the double decker bus tour. I recommended this to my travel companions because in my past trip to London, I felt it was a great way to see a general overview of the city, and we could then figure out what we would like to see in more detail the rest of the week. There are lots of positives to the bus tour: you listen to an entertaining and informative recording; you can get off at any of the stops to investigate a particular area in more depth, then hop back on when you're ready; you can buy tickets for other London events at a reduced price; and the cost of the bus trip includes a boat ride on the Thames.

We started out trying to ride in the back of the upper deck. I know, you're thinking, "In January?" But January weather in London was much warmer than what we had been dealing with in the mid-Atlantic of the United States. The day I left Pennsylvania it had been 5 degrees F that morning. I don't think it ever went below freezing during our stay in England. But it did get a little chilly in the wind after a while, and we moved forward to the covered section of the top level of the bus. The pictures weren't as nice (as you can see at right), but at least we warmed up a little!

My friends and I decided to get off the bus at Westminster Abbey. We took some pictures, drank some coffee, and I had to run into the gift shop and buy more batteries! At left is a photo of me and one of my fellow travelers. Here's an odd thing: when I look at this picture and the one I posted here a few days ago of me and my friends at Piccadilly Circus, I actually look smaller than I expected. I by no means think I look skinny, but knowing how much weight I've gained over the last six months, I thought I should look so much worse. In fact, ever since I've regained this weight, I haven't looked in the mirror or any of my pictures and seen a horror looking back at me. I know from the scale and the fit of my clothes that I've changed, but otherwise, I kind of feel pretty much the same. Is my self-image so distorted? Or am I actually beginning to find some of the grace, peace and concord that this engraving on the side of the abbey wishes for us?

Even so, I've got a long way to go. That evening we were supposed to meet up with some British friends of one of my companions, and I was a little nervous about this. I can get so self-conscious and uncomfortable when put in situations with new people, especially ones who I think are more cultured, sophisticated, intelligent or classier than I am. And let's face it: I figured they'd be thin and gorgeous and make it all the more obvious that I'm anything but these descriptions I've just listed.

We went to a pizzeria in Soho (I know, pizza in England) and I got to order an individual pizza with courgette and aubergine (what they call zuchinni squash and eggplant!) which was quite delicious. And guess what: when the Londoners arrived, they were normal, funny, charming people who were incredibly welcoming and wonderful to talk to. The one female in the group was round and lovely, had great hair and wore her clothes in a way that flattered and showed off her curves. And she urged me to order the chocolate cake for dessert because she knew I'd love it. It was a great evening and for once I didn't feel awkward, uncomfortable, dumb and hokey. We were a group of friends connecting, eating and making fantastic memories.

I Have Returned

After several days of recovery and catching up at home and work, I'm finally finding the time to report in on my incredible trip to England.

This is me on the left with two of my travel companions on our first day in London. We are standing in front of the fountain at Picadilly Circus, which over the course of our week became our hub and reference point. From here we could walk to Soho, Leicester Square and Trafalgar Square, to name a few. There were lots of shops, restaurants and theaters and of course, plenty of people! Although I've been told the crowds we encountered were paltry in comparison to the throngs that appear in the summer tourist season.

We stayed at a bed and breakfast on Lillie Road, Fulham, although we were very close to the Earl's Court expo centers, and our closest Underground station was West Brompton. The four of us stayed in a basement "flat" that was quite roomy. This was my bedroom for the week. I have to admit I found it odd that my bed didn't have a top sheet, just a bottom sheet and a duvet (what they call comforters over there). I also wasn't thrilled with my feather pillows and was fortunate that I brought my allergy medication along to reduce my reaction to them.

The picture at right was our little kitchen, but from what I gather it's fairly typical of an English kitchen. Compared to us Americans, they have tiny little refrigerators, which was fine for us since we weren't doing much eating there. Also located in the kitchen (behind the cupboard door between the sink and the white water heater) was a small front loading washing machine. But this was very similar to the one my sister had when she lived in the U.K. When I showed this picture to my sister she looked at the stove and recalled fondly having a similar small broiler section in the middle of the stove. In a little coincidence, our kitchen had a plug-in tea kettle that was very similar to the one my husband bought me recently, and it felt a little bit like home.

I won't get to all my journeys in England in today's post, but I will get to them in the next few days, with accompanying photographs. I have so many pictures from my trip! I borrowed my daughter's new digital camera which can hold up to 1500 photos, and I wound up using more than 500 of them! There's no way I can post them all, nor would anyone want me to, because I took a lot of extra shots of plaques and displays at museums to help me remember what certain buildings or items were once I got home. However, if you would be interested in seeing them, send me your e-mail address and I can invite you to see the entire album at Snapfish.

Being a Gemini, I always seem to have two opposing opinions or feelings on most things, and this trip had them, too. There were things I loved about England: the pop culture, the interesting foods, all the museums and historical sites, even just hearing the British accents and their colloquialisms. But there were things I missed, too: my American bathroom, my electrical hair gadgets (we couldn't get them to work), and of course missing my husband and daughter.

Having said that, there were things I didn't miss back home: all the endless housekeeping; chasing after my husband and daughter and reminding them of all the things they forget to do; being covered in dog hair 24 hours a day; and the crappy, wintry Appalachian weather which seemed to come full force while I was away.

As for England, my biggest problem was in the end my own fault, so I have no one to blame but myself. We had so much we wanted to see in a limited amount of time, so we crammed in as many activities and events as possible. This meant a LOT of walking, and I just couldn't keep up with my fast-walking travel companions. I don't blame them; I admit I'm out of shape because of my recent weight gain and falling woefully behind on my exercise. I had all these plans of getting back on track in December and January, busting hump on the treadmill and having myself ready to trek all over England, but then I got sick -- twice -- and I found myself barely able to get my daily chores done, let alone exercise.

I wound up spending the majority of the week in some kind of pain, whether it was my feet, knees, ankles or hips. My body just couldn't handle being on the run from 8 in the morning until 10 at night. My friends didn't have these problems, but let's face it, I weigh a lot more than they do. Perhaps if I had strapped on big, heavy backpacks on them and had them walk 12-14 hours a day they may have had a similar experience.

But, in true Gemini fashion, I did find a positive to all that walking! For the first time ever I didn't gain any weight on vacation, despite eating heavy meals like fish and chips or roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, drinking pints of cider and treating myself to desserts like a Cornish high tea (scones with clotted cream and strawberry preserves) or British biscuits (cookies). Being on the run all the time meant I didn't have time to mindlessly snack, and I pretty much stuck to three meals a day and maybe one snack.

This reminds me of a restaurant advertising campaign I saw everywhere in London and had to take a picture of it to share with you. If you can't read the caption, it says, "DIETS ARE SAD. Instead, enjoy proper food, three times a day. (Not too much, not too little.) Eat With Your Head." I saw this on the very first day in London, and I actually wound up practicing it while I was there. And the great thing was, I've been pretty much continuing it here now that I'm home. I realized on this trip that so much of my overeating has to do with boredom, filling up time, procrastinating, and of course the old attempt at comforting myself. And whether it was the busy schedule, the change of location or removal of my home triggers, it just didn't happen. As proof, I had taken a bag of candy bars along on the trip and I wound up bringing it back untouched. In addition, I brought home some British candy, biscuits and crisps (potato chips), but so far I've barely touched them. So far this "Eat With Your Head" plan is working, and I'll do my best to keep it going.