Mirror, Mirror on the Wall: OMG!

It was bound to happen; unfortunately, it took too many weeks for me to come face to face with myself in the mirror. I have weight issues, not because I eat too much (we all do), but because I eat all the wrong things for all the wrong reasons. When I'm stressed, I eat; when I'm depressed, I eat; when I'm happy, I eat; when I'm sad, I eat; when I'm with friends, I eat; when I'm lonely, I eat. My palate prefers sugar and grease, so that's what I shovel into my body in spite of the diabetes and the surge of weight gain associated with the kinds of food choices I make. Add to it 5 months waiting for surgery on the torn meniscus and the recovery afterward, followed by the closing of classes and decrease in physical activity, and the coming of summer and sunlight I have to avoid, and I'm huge.

Really. I'm huge. I look as if someone blew massive amounts of air into my body and inflated it to bursting. Not a good look on anyone, but most especially on me because I used to be tall and thin. At 5'8", I seldom weighed more than 125 pounds until after birthing 2 children, but even then I wore a size 10. Even post-partum, I kept my weight under control by running, but after the 3rd knee surgery on the left knee, running became problematic. Then, I hit 50 -- or maybe 50 hit me: I was older than younger, the same age as when my father died, and I started thinking that this could be the beginning of my end. I began yo-yoing in my personal life, my professional life, my public life, and my weight went along for the ride.

Sure, I'm still here, but the last decade has been challenging on far too many levels. A job I relocated to accept went suddenly south; a new position was perfect until it wasn't; I made new friends who weren't friendly; I was squeezed into making a home purchase that I never would have made in different circumstances; my first-tier family disintegrated after my mother died; my children's lives moved on well without me; I retired so I could have more time to go/do my long-deferred dreams, just in time for the economy to tank; and through it all, I've gorged and purged my body. I'm flabby where I should be firm, fat where I should be thin, and pieces of my geography are dropping at an alarming rate. I gave away all my clothes as it simply became easier to pull on pants and a t-shirt than try on outfit after outfit after outfit and have nothing fit.

When I'm not depressed, I eat well, exercise, get out and about, and enjoy life. When I am depressed, I eat whatever, sulk on the sofa, retreat to the safety of my barred doors, and have no energy to go anywhere/do anything/be with anyone. My weight has gone up and it has gone down; back up and back down; an endless cycle of stress on my body, my mind, and my emotions. Since the semester ended, I've shut myself off because there were things I wanted to do, places I wanted to go, people I wanted to spend time with, and none of it was going to happen for so many reasons that I just gave up. I've been sitting, the single worst thing I can do on any level of my life.

Yesterday, I changed my jammies and found that the ones I love best, the ones I wore last May, wouldn't stretch to accommodate my girth. Wow. You can't stuff two pounds of ground beef into a one-pound sausage casing because even it you can force it, the end result is gross. The mind's eye can fool the quick glance into the mirror, the pull-on pants covered with an extra large t-shirt, but the mirror is a harsh reflection of what's really there -- and it hurt to see myself staring back in disbelief at what I look like in the mirror.

I stayed awake most of the night, finally giving in to the sleeping tablet I sometimes have to take. Daisy snuggled close, licking my arm and giving me comfort as I tossed and turned, berating myself over and over for letting myself go again, and finally accepted that the time has come to do it again, to get back in control before there is no going back. I bounced out of bed at 6 am and did the first walk of the day: I used to walk every single day, but gave it up when the torn meniscus made using my right leg far too painful far too much of the time. It's fixed now, so it's back on the road. I stayed up last night surfing the web for the eating plan I know works for me and my diabetes, got it all ready, printed it this morning, and have begun the path forward. There are 5 weeks before I go back to work, and my expectation is that I will be able to wear my work clothes by then because using my eating plan, walking every day, and keeping myself off the couch usually gives me about 3 pounds a week weight loss -- and that's 15 pounds, which makes a difference in anyone's body, but, more importantly, attitude.

My sister-in-law has lost about 125 pounds during the past 18 months, one meal at a time, one day at a time. She gained control of what she puts into her mouth and onto her body, but she also learned that she's not a fat person, but a happy person who buried herself in layers of fat to protect herself from a life over which she had absolutely no control. By controlling her food intake, she controls herself, which is all she ever wanted. What other people do/say/think/believe is out of her hands, so she just works on herself and lets the rest of the world work on whatever floats their own boats.

I'm taking a lesson from my sister-in-law and taking back control of my life, as well as what I put into my mouth. I'm going to start making decisions that are important to me and then make happen what I need to happen. I'm going to stop using food as an escape from a reality that isn't working for me. I love people, I love going places/doing things, I want to be part of my life, not watching it from the couch. I'm going to take it one meal at a time, one day at a time, and as I plan my weekly menu, I'm also going to plan my weekly activities.

Finally, I love to read, and I've been reading far more than anyone could ever guess, but that, too, keeps me on the couch. As much as I HATE earbuds, I'm going to buy myself an I-Pod and download books on tape so I can read as I walk each day, as I do the yardwork, as I meander here and there. I am getting off the couch and back into my life -- because that's what I want and that's what I need.

Day One.