A kind friend wrote me a note after reading my last blog entry, all concerned about my mental state. She empathized with me, and shared my feelings, so it was a great, encouraging note for me. And not once did she mention a straight jacket or anything. I told you on my first post to watch the crazy happen as my blog continued. I must have had a premonition.
Crazy has been happening to me. I could feel myself unraveling like a wound up rubber band. I could feel the despair and self loathing rising to a fever pitch. And yet, I just sat inside myself, saying to myself, "Self, you are a nut case".
Sometimes I am. Maybe it is part of being female. Maybe in my 50's I'm finally going bonkers. Maybe I need to move to Peru or go see the Wizard of Oz or something.
I've been playing around with this and that method of losing weight. Cutting carbs here. Counting calories there. Hoping for a miracle to happen here, not treating random stomachaches in the hope of weight loss there. None of it seemed to work well. Crazy is just too powerful of an ailment for the usual treatments.
Maybe I could find an electric fence for some homemade shock therapy?
I am kidding. Really I am. I know I am not really crazy, not much anyway, but I am slowing driving myself crazy with this whole weight issue. Why am I making such a federal case out of this? Mostly my ailment is in my own mind. The mind is a powerful thing to lose. Or something like that.
I know that the one thing that has worked for me as I look back over my lifetime of dieting...and there has been a lifetime of it, believe me, is eating less. Way less. Way, way less. As in less than normal people. Not at the level of anorexia or anything, but definitely less than the standard american diet of 1800-2000 calories per day. Probably more in the 1000 calorie level per day. Cue the sad, melodramatic music here. Or at least play 'Somewhere over the rainbow'.
Maybe I damaged my metabolism over the years. Apparently making moderate, sane changes to my diet is not sufficient for weight loss. And I really need some weight loss. Really. I'm not feeling exactly comfortable in my own skin here.
6 months ago I lost about 15 pounds by simply eating less. Way less. I was eating with hunger and fullness, but something had turned inside me and I didn't want much food. I was probably eating somewhere in the 1000 calorie per day range, and I was doing great. I wasn't "counting calories" per se, but I was simply picking at my food in a way, and really, really being careful not to eat when I wasn't really hungry, and going slow when I did eat. Maybe I had a virus or something. Nice virus, how do I get it again?
Then I got sciatica in my back, which was not too much fun. Followed up nicely by a knee injury. Followed a few weeks later by two surgeries, one for the knee and one was a bladder sling). And what I chose to do in the midst of all that difficulty and angst and feeling sorry for myself was eat to make it better. And eat. And eat some more. But somehow it didn't seem to make it better. Go figure.
I gained back the 15 I had lost. Then I added another 10 pounds just to be sure that 15 was on for good. And now I am worse off than before. Heavier than I have ever been and not really liking it much at all. Understatement.
So what do I do with myself? "Self, you need to get with the program". Am I listening? I sure hope so. What program? I don't know, but certainly get off the program to keep gaining weight while I figure it out.
I've gotta find a way to eat less again. Way less than I want to. I am praying about this too. I am looking to God to help me find the path out of this pit. I know He can do it. And frankly, I know I can do it too. Faith. I must built that faith back up again. I must stop ruminating on the cobblestones of my mind, and start listening to Him again. Trusting and being obedient. Walk out of Crazy Town, starting now. Right before we go on vacation to the beach. Yeah. Great timing, right? But at least I know it is not based on my outer circumstances, but on God working on the inner me. He is able if I can find the courage to believe again.
And I do believe. I do believe. (Sounds familiar, isn't that what Peter Pan told the children to do to make Tinkerbell fly? Or was it the Cowardly Lion hoping that the flying monkeys would disappear? Either way, that was the moment something happened, right? Right?
Oh well, I'm off to see the wizard. Nah, not really. But I do have a mighty God. And He has some kind of answer for me, if I can open up my mind and heart to hear Him.
