Friday, May 30, 2008

Life Changing.

Last night, as I was writing the Burger King post, I realised that I'm ready for the next step in intuitive eating. And it scared the crap out of me. I've got the intuitive part of the eating down pat: I eat what I want, when I want. I'm starting allow myself more exercise as I know my body can cope with it: exercising from a place of love rather than punishment. Most importantly, I'm so over the impetus to diet, I cannot even imagine myself attempting one ever again.

But it's the fallout of from so many years of dieting, that's got me scared about this next phase. Principle 10: Honor Your Health – Gentle Nutrition. You'd think that being an ex-chef this phase would be an absolute breeze for me. You'd be incorrect. Sure I know a lot about food preparation and nutrition, but I know very little about eating for a healthy diet. Restaurant food is often made with boatloads of fat, salt, and is all about making money with stuff that tastes great, rather than for its nutritive value. Dieting, for me, was all about low fat. Tasty food, with the lowest fat content possible.

I don't know how to follow a happy medium. Tasty food with all or nothing, basically. Add into the equation my newfound verve for my writing career, renewed confidence with housework, plus figuring out we want to do more with our weekends than chores or sit in front of the computer. . .and all of a sudden, I'm struggling. Living as a true grown up, with life, household and relationship responsibilities is showing me my woeful lack of time management skills. And the first thing that's gone by the wayside is nutrition.

Often my body has several ideas of what would constitute heaven at each meal time. Recently I've been going with the easiest option, every single time. I've come to loathe the dishes with a deeply personal hatred. Last weekend, in conversation with Alaskaboy, it came out that I see the dishes as the perfect analogy for what I see as the life of an adult: endless repetitions of mind numbing chores. I've directly transferred that idea to food. If I cook meals, then there's more dishes, so I get away with cooking as little as possible.

All this as a direct result of my fear of attempting good nutrition without the rules of a diet to follow. And this hasn't been good for my health, my waistline, or my presence of mind. Just like my fear of confronting my emotions wasn't good for me either. Avoidance behaviour and me don't mix.

I'm pretty sure the difficulties I'm having are completely normal; especially for those new to running a house or switching to self employment. Doesn't make it any less frustrating though. It's so much easier to turn up to work and have your boss tell you what your task is for the day, or have someone train you in your job description and then leave you to get on with it. I've never been good as my own taskmaster which is one of the main reasons I never got past the business plan for the Luscious Low Fat restaurant we talked about opening.

I am fabulous at planning weekly and monthly dinner menus, and sticking to them. But this flies completely in the face of intuitive eating. So I'm floundering big time. Perhaps I need to go back to advice I've given many other people over the years; cook up batches of stuff to have in the freezer. With a new twist on it. Don't have umpteen containers of one or two things, but a few containers of multiple dishes.

In light of that, I'm soaking some mixed dried beans. Am planning on a bean salad, three bean chilli, and another kind of dish once I find a recipe I want to try. I'm also going to go through the pantry and see what foods we have that have been in there long enough for me to ignore them completely. What's the point of having a well-stocked house if I'm not going to ever use half the stuff we have? And then, I'm gonna cook up a storm over the next couple of weeks.

Perhaps even find me some good time management books too.

Nutritional intuitive eating, gah! I feel as intimidated and hopeful, yet completely ready for this next step, as I did when I first began this intuitive eating journey. Who'd've thought that buying one little book would result in such a complete overhaul of my whole life. I guess that's what all those successful “dieters” mean when they say, “It's a lifestyle change.”


Thursday, May 29, 2008

Off with the Burger King's Head.

I've been craving Burger King for the last couple of weeks. I kept driving past one when I was full though, so I didn't get a chance to have any until today. Not having much of an appetite, but feeling peckish, I took the opportunity as it presented itself. My reasoning being that I could get a Whopper Jr. meal and stop eating once I was full. Satisfy the craving and keep the wallet happy. ;)

The chips/fries are what I usually crave for, because they're the closest thing to fast food fries in Australia. I enjoyed the first few, especially since they were piping hot. Mmm, fresh chippies. I opened the burger, bit into it and thought, Hmmm, yep, that's a Burger King burger; fake smoke flavour, lotsa mustard and mayo, with a pickle. And it's mushy. Omg. Where's the texture? Where's the feeling like I'm actually eating something? Wait? Has the bun been steamed? (Yeah, apparently that's how they heat the buns.)

And then it hit me after a couple of bites, I don't like Burger King anymore. It used to be my go to burger choice. Now, I'd much rather an In'n'Out burger. I can get the bun extra toasted, not steamed. The chips are cut on the premises, not strange chip-like mushiness. There's a LOT of lettuce and tomato and the onions are cooked if you ask for it Animal Style. Plus their soft drinks are flavours I prefer.

I ate a few more bites of the burger, hoping it would get better. Even argued with myself that I shouldn't be eating what I don't like. But, I was hungrier than I'd thought before I started. I ended up leaving a 1/4 of the burger, eating all the chips, and drinking half the drink. I didn't enjoy any of it beyond the first two lots of fries I put in my mouth.

Wow. I never thought I'd say it, but I believe Burger King has joined McDonald's as a place I no longer frequent.

Anyone else find that their tastes have changed over the course of gaining a healthy relationship with food?


Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Peekaboo, I see you.

Pleasantly sore, became plain old sore over the weekend; mostly in part because I held my neck at such an unnatural angle for so long when swimming on Friday. The rest of my muscles were caught between feeling elated that they were back in the exercise saddle again, and bemoaning how out of shape they'd become.

My brain, that squishy but smart organ, knew we had cause to celebrate. Not only was I back into exercise, but I'm now sleeping eight hours most nights, rather than the twelve to fourteen I was sleeping for several months. Saturday, I shared a mocha slushy with Alaskaboy, and later that evening had a glass of wine. Sunday we dined at a restaurant for dinner, with which I had a pina colada, went and saw a movie and I walked up and down stairs with only the slightest thought as to how my body might react. Monday I had half a can of coke, and a glass of wine.

For those of you keeping count, that's three alcoholic drinks and two caffeinated ones over the course of three days. Earlier this year, a can of coke gave me heart palpitations and a 1/4 cup of wine would have me very tipsy: Both gave me a hangover the following day. Despite having only six hours sleep on Saturday night, plus the drinks, I had no hint of a hangover this weekend.

Not only that, but I found some interesting photos. A little while ago I'd asked Mum to look for some photos of a younger thinner me. I've been curious for quite some time to look back and see how distorted my inner vision actually was. She's been super busy with her own life and hasn't had a chance to do that yet. So, imagine my shock, when in the spirit of reminiscing with Alaskaboy I opened up one of our photo albums, containing shots from five and six years ago, and saw nothing but a normal, pretty woman. Pleasantly plump, happy, and nothing like the horrid monster she thought she was.

So, I flicked through a few more. One from my first trip to America in 2001, and another from 2002/2003. It was amazing. Not only could I remember how I'd felt when certain pictures were being taken, but I remember some of the things I'd THOUGHT to myself. Well, okay, to be fair it was LSED doing the thinking. Funny thing is, she's been strangely quiet since I bought those clothes last week. Last night, while looking through those photos. . .I noticed an absence. No, not an absence, the very opposite of an absence. It was like the part of my psyche where she hangs out had been torn down, renovated and a brand spanking new residence was there. One full to the brim with something right. Something that belonged to me. It was even a different feeling than what I get from when HSEG is talking.

There was no looking at the photos and thinking how skinny I looked compared to myself now. Yes, I am healthier, physically, in those photos. Yes, I'm fatter now than I've been in quite awhile. Yes, I'm having to work slowly at building my fitness levels. Looking at those photos I knew, deep down in my soul, that the reason my innards felt different than they've ever felt before was because I saw all of me. It was me in that picture, Kada. Me, a person worthy of love and life.

That new place is full of me and my self respect.

I saw my past. I see my present. I have hopes and dreams for the future. And I accept all of them. I accept that learning about myself is an ongoing thing that will take the rest of my life. Because I'm still living my life. Without all of my past, I wouldn't be the complex, unique individual that is wholly myself. By releasing and feeling all those emotions and experiences I'd kept bottled for so long, I've let them find the place they belong, and they've shown me perspective.

And by asking for, and receiving, my Magic Mirror I've gained yet another sense of perspective. I didn't receive responses from everyone. I received replies from some I never expected to hear from, and nothing from a few I had. Some are still planning on sending a response, they're not quite sure how to word it just yet, and a few have given me nothing but silence in return. A couple responded, but were unable to resist "improvement tidbits". Knowing the personalities of those people, I accepted their words in the spirit they were meant.

One thing I learned pretty early on as a writer, is that when one or two people tell you something about your story, it might not necessarily be true. If you receive the same advice from nearly all your critique or writing group partners, then take heed, as that bit truly does need fixing. Or that aspect really is pretty damn good. Imagine how I felt, when ALL of the magic mirror letters agreed on quite a few things. They all had unique aspects to share, but they all agreed on several key aspects of me.

I would declare the Magic Mirror exercise a resounding success. The light of their regard lit the path to my inner self. I see myself through their eyes, and I also see deeper than that. Through eyes unclouded by the gunk I've set aside, I see me. And I like what I see.


Saturday, May 24, 2008

Sort Of Dunno Nothin

HAHAHAHAAHAH Got, had or know any teenagers? You might like this new Aussie song. "Sort Of Dunno Nothin'" by Peter Denahy


Promises, Promises.

I was talking with my Dad on the phone last night, as per usual, about new recipes we'd made up recently. Funnily enough, he's an intuitive cook also. So, you can imagine how much fun we have inspiring each other, "You used those ingredients all together? Oh wow, I'll try and reproduce that dish later this week." LOL

And just before he hung up, he asked me if I'd been to the Y since I joined up. I made much of being too busy to have gone yet, but then I heard myself promise him I'd go the next day.


This morning I actually woke up with enough time to get to the pool for water aerobics. I scrambled the swimming bag together, threw a nutella sandwich in my face while driving to the pool, and made it only five minutes late. I woulda been in time for the class if I hadn't forgotten my goggles, nor locked my shoes outside the locker forcing me to have to unlock it again and shove the shoes inside. Sheesh.

Considering I'd planned on watching the class as I swam up and down a lane, this wasn't so bad. I really wanted to do the aerobics, but I wasn't sure how hot the pool was, what kinds of exercises they did, or how my body would react to resistance exercise after doing none for so long. So, I played it safe, once more.

I'm glad I did, because I'm pleasantly sore from 500m of slow swimming. Could only do backstroke and breaststroke without the goggles, but hey, at lest I got IN the pool instead of turning around and going back home. That's what I get for making a promise to my dad, no escape hatch!


Friday, May 23, 2008

Intuitive Eating Interviews.

Found these online and thought they were pretty interesting.

Segment One: Lara interviews Carol and Haifaa about intuitive eating

Segment Two: Lara Interviews Elyse Resch about Intuitive Eating.

Segment Three: Continues the interview with Carol and Haifaa about how Intuitive Eating has affected them..


Thursday, May 22, 2008

I'm so angry, I could binge.

But, I wont.

Lately I've been feeling like a recluse. While not exactly happy to stay at home all day, every day, I haven't been keen to head on out into the big bad world either. I've been wanting to walk and to exercise, but somehow or other I end up going to bed at night thinking, Maybe I should go for a walk now. My brain and eyes are tired, but the rest of me really isn't. Nah, I'll do it tomorrow.

Three weeks later, tomorrow still hasn't come.

Yesterday, I had a Fat Day. Yes, you heard me, a Fat Day. I'd forgotten how awful those things truly are. And I used to feel like that almost constantly? HOLY SHIT! No wonder my self esteem and confidence were in the toilet. So, I acknowledged the fact of my fat freak out, and got on with my day. I ate intuitively; worked; even showered—a rare occurrence for a fat day.

As I was getting dressed to go to the post office, I looked in the mirror and figured out what was going on. I didn't want to go out because my clothes aren't fitting me properly, or at all. And because I don't want to go out and exercise, less and less of my clothes are fitting me as the weeks go by.

And how can I be feeling so much confidence in some areas, but lack complete confidence in my physical strength and abilities?

Arrgh. Two Catch-22s.

This time last year, when we moved house, I threw out all of my clothes that were too big, and most of the clothes that were too small. Physically, I was the fittest I've been in quite awhile. Therefore my body was toned enough to fit comfortably into the new summer clothes I'd bought for myself. Over the USA winter and AUS summer, my body was still slim due to the bout of antibiotic-induced anorexia. Physically, my body composition was more fat, but I'd lost a shit load of “weight” so could keep wearing those clothes.

Logically, I know why my body is so much fatter than it was, but emotionally I'm resenting the hell out of it. I've worked so hard these past two years to sort out most of my emotional and mental crap. So in that particular way I'm healthier than I've been in over a decade. Physically, I'm fat. And not in a good way. I really didn't mind being fat when I was still fit. I felt strong and empowered. Don't mess with me, I'm strong, I'm woman, I'll knock ya bloody block off! Reading all the fat acceptance websites that I have been lately, I feel like I don't fit in anywhere at the moment. FA movement promotes exactly how I was feeling last year.

And yet, how I'm currently feeling is SO bad, that I have trouble looking myself in the eye in the mirror.

God, I can't believe I just admitted that. She, who's all about the positive affirmations and feel good about yourself, can't look herself in the eye! Well, I can, but I have to force myself to do it.

I'm so tired of starting over again. Infuriated that I have to buy new clothes AGAIN when I have a whole, fairly new, wardrobe that I cannot wear at the moment. I hate coming into summer dreading the heat. The last two years I've looked forward to summer, the only times in my adult life I've done so! Now, I don't know this body. I'm uncomfortable in it. I'm angry with it. I resent it. I even hate it.

No wonder I can't look myself in the face.

But, it gets worse.

Last night, I bit the bullet and went out and bought four pairs of thin pants. Two long-legged and two bermuda short length, hoping to fix the problem. I deserve clothes that fit and are comfortable to wear for the season, so I got clothes. And it bought back all my resentment of shopping. Because I've now gone back up into the size that takes me into Fatty Territory. The dreaded Land of Unnatural Fabrics. And I don't know about anyone else, but I prefer to wear cotton, especially in summer! Store people, pay attention! “I'm hot enough with the extra insulation on my body, and you want me to wear plastic that doesn't breathe? Fuck you!”

Oh? What's that? NOW I get it. If I wear this, it'll be like one of those fancy sauna suits, and I'll sweat off the pounds, finally making me worthy of shopping in your store. How selfish of me to want to rape so very many cotton plants just to make outfits that actually fit my unworthy self. You HAVE cotton pants in my size? Oh bless your equality-minded sel—Ahhh! I see. These are made ultra thin, so that my gigantic thighs rub together and tear holes in them so I have to come back and buy yet more of your over-priced shit. No, No, I promise I won't look at the “Normal” people racks just two feet to my left, where the nice sturdy 100% cotton workout clothes live. I know I don't deserve them, so I'll take these and run. Well, okay how about waddle?

Any wonder why I can't look myself in the eye this morning, even though I bought enough pants to fix the current problem?

P.S. I'm also very scared of getting back on the exercise horse. But, I'll cover that in another post.


Saturday, May 17, 2008

Two Sides Of The Same Coin.

Knowing I could sit at home with cramps and use them as a good excuse for relaxing all day long--although, seriously, who relaxes with cramps?--I looked at my To Do List and let it slide. For all of five minutes until I thought to myself, Fuck this! How is this nurturing myself? So, for the first time in a long time, I went out, despite painful cramps and a Bad Hair Day.

The bad hair I fixed by putting on a baseball cap, the cramps I tried to ignore as much as possible. Besides, I REALLY wanted a burger and fries for lunch. MMMM Beeefy iron-rich goodness. I swear I become Cave Girl during menstruation. If you presented me with a whole roast leg of lamb, I'd dive in, teeth first.

With one part of my abdomen satisfied, I felt more able to complete the rest of my tasks. First, to the post office. Fly, little letters, to your destinations! Second stop, The YMCA. I liked what I saw on the way in, plus it was a short enough trip from home to do a few times a week. Inside, there was a gaggle of elderly folk walking past reception on their way to the change rooms. They were all leaving the water aerobics class with smiles on their faces. A good sign.

Even better sign was the handsome specimen at the registration desk. Even with my reproductive system in purge mode, my libido definitely sat up and noticed when he smiled at me. And he kept smiling at me and making small talk. As I asked questions about the place and he answered them more and more readily, I began to get flustered. It wasn't until he handed me the registration forms to fill out that I figured out why, I was so affected. He was flirting with me!

And I noticed!

I don't know if I blushed or not, but I definitely noticed that I'd begun to look at him coyly through my lashes in shy delight. Mr Beefcake with the delicious eyes was flirting with me! Thank Christ he went off shift as I started to fill the forms out. I was so stunned by the whole thing that I filled out the first bits wrong. Then the next guy came on duty and I kept my gaze firmly affixed to the form as Sir HunkaSpunk walked away. I didn't dare look at his rear, his face and shoulders had been devastating enough.

New guy gave me and another pair of ladies a quick tour of the facilities, then I was off to shop for presents for my niece's birthday. On the twenty minute trip I went through various scenarios in my head, wondering what it'd be like to be held in HunkaSpunk's arms. Came to the conclusion it'd be nice, but not as nice as being in Alaskaboy's embrace. Mmmm naked Alaskaboy. Oh wait. Driving! Must concentrate.

Then it hit me. That's the first time EVER that I've noticed that a guy was attracted to me and flirting with me in the exact moment that the flirtation was actually happening And I can't believe I recognised it. How many of those other guys that I'd assumed were looking in disgust at the fat chick, or being nice to the fat chick, were actually thinking I was smokin' hot?

Probably more than I think there'd be.

I parked the car at my next destination, but couldn't get out of the car until I'd had a five minute sob session. As if in response to my libido's foolishness, when it was all too late to be impregnated, the cramps had kicked it up a notch.

Having recovered, and tossed my ball cap aside because it gave my overheated bod a headache, I left the car and moseyed on into the shopping centre. (A mosey being all I could manage at that point if I wanted to stay vertical.) My encounter in the toy store was another a first. Several in fact. When chatting with the saleswoman she asked me what I did, “I'm an author.” I replied quite blithely, as though I'd said it a thousand times before. Inside my head I freaked out a little about it, but oh well, the worm was out of the book. Over the course of the conversation, the woman told me, in her delightful Indian accent, several different variations on the theme,“You're so brainy!”

Knowing how important intelligence is to most Asian people and Indians in particular, I felt my ego being plumped up nicely by this woman's obvious delight in talking to me. We went through the usual Big 4 questions that Asians and Indians usually ask even total strangers: Employed? Income? In a relationship? Kids?

She also included several more iterations of You So Brainy!

As she was bagging up my stuff, she said something that made me blink, (paraphrasing here) “And to think, to start with you looked so simple.” Not really comfortable with a lot of the questions she'd been asking, (I know she was asking them from a cultural imperative, but still, it made me cautious,) I merely thanked her when she handed me my goodies.

It wasn't until I got back in the car that it hit me. Did she just say what I think she just said? Even now, I don't know if she truly knew how it came across. I hope she meant it as “Wow, I shouldn't judge a book by it's cover.” But, I can't help but wonder if she felt threatened by me in any way and had to chop me off at the knees after all that building up.

Or whether her first impression had been, Fat, Bad Hair, Wearing a Waist Pack and Sweatpants in our La Di Da part of town...the woman must be simple! Especially when in response to my, “Have you been here long?” she replied, “Yes, I haven't seen you in here before. Are you from around here?”

Now, a very small inner part of me started to question all of this, and I started to get angry. Who the fuck did she think she was? Simple? SIMPLE! And then I realised what I'd done. I'd told a Real Live Person that my job description was Author. I didn't even mention that I hadn't been published yet. When she asked if it paid money, I answered yes. I was without apology and quite proud of my job. I could tell she was envious that I worked from home and that I could keep up with my housework as I needed to. And that I had no children under foot yet.

I recognised the earlier parts of the conversation when she's looked at me with respect. And in doing so, I realised that her prejudgment of me as simple was her problem, and not mine. I'd walked into that hoighty toighty place, with no apologies as to who or what I was, and come out with my self respect still in place.

The first side of the coin was understanding that I'm a desirable women and men other than my husband find me so, and I didn't feel threatened. In fact I felt flattered. The flip side of the coin was acknowledging that I'm an author, and accepting that the woman's statement about my simplicity, or lack thereof, was nothing more than that, a statement.

What currency is this coin part of? Confidence. And I'm learning to both bank and spend it.


Thursday, May 15, 2008

Body Confidence Issues.

In many ways I'm feeling better about my body than I ever have. Case in point: the other day I woke up and noticed in the mirror on the way to the kitchen that my belly looked HUGE. Instead of freaking about how fat I'd all of a sudden become, I stopped and thought back over the last few days. I'd eaten a lot of salty food. That, plus the other kinds of foods I'd been wanting to eat usually meant PMS. A-HA! Premenstrual bloating = HUGENORMOUS tummy. And I shrugged and went on with my day.

But in another way, I'm completely unsure about my body. I feel weak. And I don't like it or know how to deal with it. Because I was a gymnast at an early age and continued sports up until the age of twenty, plus then did aerobics on an fairly regular irregular basis, if that makes any sense!, I'd kept most of my muscle tone. . .until now.

As a result, I'm having a confidence crisis.

Physically, I can tell I've lost muscle tone, not only because of the antibiotic reaction, but also the enforced rest period I've had to go through since. I'm longing to do aerobics and lift weights like I used to, but I'm not strong enough to do that yet. And I'm so Booooored with mere walking. Mentally, I don't trust my body. Before, if I did x + y, my body would give me z results. Now x + y = god only knows. I've never been weak, I don't know how to treat this new weaker body. I feel like a failure for getting puffed or sore as soon as I do. Emotionally, I'm scared. I feel like I'm holding myself back too much, but I'm afraid that if I push, I'll end up crippled or with pulled muscles / ripped tendons etc. I'm scared to push how good I'm feeling and go too far and undo all the progress I've done in the last 8 months. And swimming? HA! That's what got me into this mess in the first place.

So, for the last two months I've become totally insecure about what my body is capable of doing physically. I don't know this new body and I'm having a great deal of trouble accepting it and my weakness. I'm guessing that this is a step that all injured people go through during their rehab, but it doesn't make my dislike or fear any less.

I'm also VERY tired of exercising alone. I've tried looking all over the place for walking groups. No luck there, they're all power walkers, or hikers, or mum groups, none of which I am. So, I'm looking into buying an mp3 player of some kind. Hopefully that'll at least make walking more enjoyable again.

Having given up on our apartment block's pool ever being warm enough for me to get into again--My tendons don't like water that's 55-65F / 13-18C anymore-- I'm summoning up my courage to go check out water aerobics classes. Having finally found an indoor pool, this may be a little easier than I think it will be. But! I have to get up the courage to go check out the place, find out how much it costs, and then, if it's affordable, somehow find the confidence to actually go.

And, again, it's not a matter of worrying about how I'll look in bathers, but the fear that I may get carried away and hurt something. I hate feeling like this!


Monday, May 12, 2008

Baked Oatmeal/Porridge.

Here it is at last, the baked oatmeal we had in Pennsylvania earlier this year. YUM!

Alaskaboy and I tend to make a double batch, in a large lasagne tray, and it lasts us the whole working week; refrigerates very well. Don't know about freezing though, haven't tried it. Do try the smaller batch though first to see if you like it. Hope you do!

This makes enough for a square cake or lasagne dish. (approx 9”x9” or 20cmx20cm)
Preheat oven to 175C (350F)
serves 4-6. Very filling!

1/2 cup vegetable oil (or 1/4 oil & 1/4 c apple sauce. All sauce = too sweet.)
1 cup sugar
2 eggs, beaten
3 cups rolled oats
1 tsp salt (optional)
1 tsp baking powder
1 1/4 cup milk
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp cinnamon
Optional extra: chopped tinned apple, pear or peach pieces (drained of juice)

Mix oil, sugar and eggs in a mixing bowl
Add remaining ingredients (except fruit) and mix well.
If using fruit, cover the bottom of the non-metal baking dish with it, then pour mixture over the top.
Cook for 35-40mins. (Check after 25-30 if fan forced to see how it's going)

Serve with a dash of milk and any extra dried fruit/nuts you'd like.


Friday, May 09, 2008

On a more positive note....

Here's my victories so far this week.

I'd been at Borders, studying for several hours. While there, I had a small hot chocolate, a donut and a peppermint tea, when I felt like them. Because I forgot to say No Whipped Cream when ordering, I had to ask the girl to scrape off the whipped cream, when I got to the counter. WHY do they insist on whipped cream on a hot chocolate, as standard?! Did compliment her on how pretty it looked, and felt the need to explain I'm from a country where they don't DO that whipped cream thing. (Perhaps hoping to mitigate my arseholeness for saying Off With The Hot Chocolate's Head?)

On the way home, I was feeling kinda hungry, and the only two drive-thrus that were open were McDonald's and El Pollo Loco. I swung into El Pollo Loco, assuming they'd have SOMEthing I could eat. And they did!

I ordered a large garden salad, with thousand island dressing, a large fries, and a small coleslaw. Hooray for veggies, right? Wrong. I REALLY wanted rotisserie chicken. Have been wanting it for several weeks now. But, I can't have it. There's nowhere that cooks certified organic rotisserie chicken.

By the time the line dribbled around to the car in front of me, I knew I was only buying the food because it was something to buy. I admit I welled up with tears of anger and self pity as I watched the cashier hand through two bags worth of chicken-containing dishes. (Funny thing is the only time I've tried El Pollo Loco, I didn't like it because it was too dry.)

Wiping my tears away, I got myself under control. The woman had her mouth open to tell me the cost of my meal as I pulled up to the window, and her expression changed to a frown as I said, "Thanks, but I've changed my mind. I don't want the meal." She continued frowning at me as she said, "Okay." And I drove away.

I knew that they'd be unhappy with me. I knew I'd look silly. I knew I'd wasted all of our time and effort. But I said "No Thanks" anyway!

Arriving home, the first time in several years that he's beaten me home from work and Alaskaboy greets me at the door with, "Did you collect the mail?, and we'll need to swap the cars for tomorrow."(He only borrows my more fuel efficient car on days he's working a fair distance from home.)

I stormed back down to the cars. Swapped them around with him then grabbed the mail off the front seat from where I'd left it, and shoved the letters into his hands. Dodging his attempt at a smile, and possibly a kiss, I said, "There's your mail." in an angry tone of voice, and kept walking.

He called out, "What's wrong?"
I responded with something dramatically sarcastic along the lines of, "It's the mail you want, isn't it? So you got it!"

Back up in the apartment, no longer even the slightly peckish I was earlier, I sat on the couch and read a book. No way was I broaching the subject, or making it any easier for him. It took him about 10-15 minutes, but eventually he came out from the office, where he did some budget stuff while thinking it through, gave me a hug and said, "Welcome home."

And THAT is what happens when I express my emotions. The issue comes to a head straight away, no stewing for days or weeks and no binging.

All the talking we did one night last week about the myriad of tiny ways he(and others) makes me feel unloved, and how it builds up over the years, was perfectly illustrated that night. Alaskaboy finally understood how something as simple as forgetting to make a person feel welcomed when they come home, can seriously fuck them up emotionally. (As I sobbed to him on the couch, Where was MY "Yay, Mummy's home!"?)

He was proud of me for expressing my anger, and for not leading him by the hand through the reasons why I was angry.
I was proud of him for figuring it out and knowing what to say to help start mending the problem.

The next night, he rushed in the door, swooped down on me, gave me an extravagant kiss and said, "Welcome home." Sarcastic bitch, isn't he? To be fair the following night after that I switched my welcome home to "Did you check the mail?" Less than a week and we're already joking about it. God that feels good! Previously, I would have leaned into that smile/kiss of his, pretended nothing was wrong, and blown up over something else much later, and slipped that instance in as well.


Back To Basics

Because we haven't had much food in the fridge, and I've been too lazy to go shopping. Because we found some of the elusive Bear Claw Icecream, the last one in the shop's freezer! Because this time I'm not on a diet and can eat as much of it as I want, so we have a repeat of the chocolate raisins episode. Because I didn't get a response to the Magic Mirror letter from someone that I was desperately needing to receive a reply from. That's only some of the reasons, but they all start with Because.

Because, Because, BeCAAAAAAAUUUUUSE.

You'd think with my own personal Oz practicing such fantastic sleight of hand that I'd been living in Emerald city these last few days, but no, it's been Binge City

Those charts are doing their job, very effectively. All the becauses are there for me to see. And I, the great Oz, can no longer fool myself on how much I'm binging. And have been binging, now that I look back over the last few months. So, I'm ditching the fanciful delusions and sound effects and going back to basics.

This morning I got up and made myself a sandwich for breakfast. I waited until I was hungry and made what I wanted, but only the one sandwich. If I'd been still hungry after eating just the one, I would have sat a bit longer and waited to see if the hunger stayed, or went away before making another half sandwich. But, I was full after one sandwich.

I read a little bit more of the book I'd been reading with breakfast, and between five-to-ten minutes later I found my gaze wandering over the kitchen. The urge to eat was there, even though I wasn't actually physically hungry. I thought of the indigestion I've had the last two nights. Indigestion I've had to suffer through since we have no celery, or antacids, in the house. I thought of my husband coming home early for a change, and me not being able to make love with him, because my stomach was too uncomfortably full. So I didn't even let him know I was feeling horny. I thought of several other things, and finally I said to myself, "No."

No, to dishing up portions size LSED says I need.
No, to punishing myself by buying only a small variety of food.
No, to irregular exercise.
No, to shoving down how much other people's in/actions hurt me.
No, to taking on the World's Ills. (A new version of lost puppy dog syndrome.)
No, to anything that makes me feel bad about myself.

Yes, Yes, YES, to intuitive eating.
Yes, Yes! To regular exercise.
YES! To being me.

Yes, to going back to basics.


Monday, May 05, 2008

Intuitive Eating

The one thing I took away from the Intuitive Eating Group I used to belong to, was that no matter the manifestation of our eating disorders, we were all coming from the same place. Fear, anger, self hatred etc were the prime motivators, it was our expression of those negative emotions/feelings that was different.

In light of that, after going from homebirths, puppy births, baking techniques and breastfeeding tips, to intuitive eating tips--basically newly exploring the world of You Tube for informative rather than entertainment purposes--I found this.

He's a transgendered male that is recovering from three separate eating disorders. And just like the anorexics and bulimics in my eating group, I found listening to him was like listening to my own story in several ways. A lot of this is stuff I already know, but I like the way he presents the information and I felt like it renewed my own commitment to follow intuitive eating.

This series I found very interesting. Please do try and watch all four as each has something positive to say about Intuitive Eating and ways to help you recover from eating disorders. Well, at least I thought so. I'd be very interested in hearing your thoughts on them. Either via comments on this post, a blog post of your own or in an email.

Healthy Eating Tips Part 1: Nutrition Education and Servings

Healthy Eating Tips Part 2: Personalization and Presentation

Healthy Eating Tips: Part 3 (A) Peaceful and Intuitive Eating

Healthy Eating Tips Part 3 (B)

:) It also made me want to go out and buy the bento box lunchpack that I've been eying off for weeks now. . .and felt silly for wanting to have.


Thursday, May 01, 2008

A picture really is worth a thousand words.

This was just one of the responses I've received since sending out that email/post yesterday.

Isn't it ace?