I feel like I’m beating a dead horse, or more likely beating a bag of M&Ms, but I have food issues. This weekend, being Easter, only highlighted these issues, and with this past week being a combo pre-holiday, Aunt Flo week, all bets were off.
For those you also obsessed with vampire shows, I often compare myself in vampire folklore terms. Take Vampire Diaries, where they have this nifty thing that if you are a vampire and life gets too unbearable, you have a “humanity switch.” This switch can be flipped and will let said vampire turn off their emotions and just live without feeling anything. Very good for upping the drama factor and making good girls and boys look cool doing bad things and excusing it later type thing.
My “switch” that I oftentimes turn off pertains to food. It’s what I would term my “self-control” switch. The one that tells me, Hey Jen, why don’t you stop at the first row of Oreo’s, that’s plenty dontcha think? Or maybe, Hey girl, how about we not eat our weight in candy today mkay? The inside voice that shuts down my inner voice that can justify eating anything as long as no one sees me doing it. Like a tree in the woods, if no one sees me wreck that plate of cookies, did it really just happen?
I battle to keep this switch on every single day, and sometimes, the fight just goes out of me. I stress eat. I tired eat. I bored eat. I eat because if someone doesn’t eat those ice cream sandwiches currently in my fridge, no one will. I am always thinking about food. I know it’s unhealthy, but therapy is freakin expensive, and I currently can’t afford to pay someone to listen to me whine about food, which in turn, will only make me hungry.
I feel like food is a drug I can’t quit. Besides I can’t quit, we humans technically need it to survive, and besides, it would completely put me in a whole other psychological mess category, and I’ve tried not eating, it doesn’t work. Usually a half hour in, I’m like, I’M DYING, MY STOMACH IS STARTING TO EAT MY LIVER, GET ME SOME FOOD, and I end up eating half the McDonald’s menu, which by the way McD’s thanks for the calorie count buzzkill on the menus now. I prefer ignorance; I know your restaurant is not good for me, please stop preaching it when I am trying to get my Double-cheese on. (Quiet KQ, I am not eating your ridiculous apples. What’s the point? You took away the caramel months ago, which almost caused complete anarchy in my backseat by the way, a little warning would have been nice.)
I will jump back on the wagon tomorrow. I will once again try to be good, but another stumbling block I face is even when I am super good, drink water like a camel, love me some fruits and veggies, and eat smaller quantities, I lose approximately 1 pound. I was awesomely good for the entire months of February and March (with the exception of last week, doesn’t count, see above Shark Week and Easter combo). I ate well, worked out three to four times a week, I didn’t eat at night, and I actually choked down my 8 glasses of water every day. I only lost 4 freakin pounds. Now, in this time, I did feel pretty darn great, my muffin top got smaller, I did have more energy and other things, but it’s HARD when you just don’t see the results on the scale or start to get Madonna arms after like 10 whole pushups.
Another problem is I LOVE food. Not good food mind you. Crap food. I love Little Debbie’s, Chef Boy R Dee, anything chocolate, and anything pre-packaged and convenient. I hate thinking ahead and planning. I hate vegetables. I am the person that buys like $30 of fresh fruits and veggies at the store on Saturday and am throwing them away untouched on Friday to make way for the next cycle. If I can’t grab it, rip the top off the container and shove it down my gullet, I am not eating it. Nachos are awesome to me, but only on special days, because those are a lot of work. Probably not wondering anymore why my cholesterol is 265 are you?
This post is a cry for help. I need motivation. I need something. I have only one idea left. Basically I need people in all areas of my life shaming me into not eating badly. I need people judging me at get togethers. I need people at work to call me names when I am gorging on donuts and M&Ms. I need to know I am being watched, or else I won’t quit. Nighttime is the hardest, but I guess I’m on my own there. But if I can make it the rest of the day, I might just have enough willpower to finish the day strong.
I have to do something. I am killing myself. I am teaching my kids awful food habits. I want to put dinners on the table every night, not just mac and cheese and nuggets. I need to get my butt in gear and grow up. I am 33 years old and it is time to get organized. I bet there’s something on Pinterest for that, and most likely, I pinned it months ago, and then went back to funny memes without reading it. So, I issue my inner circle a challenge: watch me, comment on my eating, shame me, it’s the only way I will stop, or at least get started down the right path. I will warn you though, in approximately 28 days, if I come at you looking for chocolate, you best move out of my way, because this week can make me violent.
Happy Easter everyone!
UPDATE 4/1/13: Just called the doctor’s office to get my updated cholesterol bloodwork results and I am down from 265 to 216 just with the dieting and exercising I am doing! There’s a little motivation to not jump off the wagon! I may be fat, but by God, I am making myself healthier! Yay! No meds yet for me.
Confessions of an Introvert 