Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Headcolds suck!

Or should that be blow? Feel like I'm single-handedly murdering the amazon forest for my never-ending supply of tissues. Will be moving onto the groovy aloe vera ones tomorrow if this keeps up.

Groin strain's all gone. But, because of the headcold had to fight very hard to get up and do aerobics this evening. Just didn't have the motivation today. I did manage 25 minutes of very lacklustre aerobics before going on to stretching. Feel a little light headed and woozy now.

Everything is harder when you got a head full of snotcrete!

I'm off to have a hot bath/shower in hopes of loosening some of the crud up. (tabs are helping, but steam's always good!)

Will definitely be in bed early this evening. Sorry about the blah post.. but that's all yas get when I feel like shit. Did have a fabulous weekend in San Diego. More on that when I'm feeling better.


Friday, October 27, 2006

My life as a braggart.

This new, (not so) secret life as a confident woman is beginning to feel suspiciously like the life of an extroverted braggart. Perhaps living in a country that is renowned for its Me First Capitalism is having more than one kind of broadening effect on my horizons.

I'm finding it all very unsettling actually, if a little liberating.

You see, I grew up in a country where the tall poppy syndrome is not only alive, but thriving. It's not enough for one to be gracious in success, one must be almost downright arse backwards in proclaiming any hint that you might have actually had something to do with your own achievements. Unless you're a sporting superstar of course. But even then, you have to be careful not to seem too uppity, lest the media's darling all of a sudden become yesterday's hero.

Religious types have it easy, they can lay their success at the feet of whichever higher being they happen to believe in. What do the rest of us do? Thank our mates, our spouses, our coach, everybody else involved rates a mention, but as soon as you say "Yeah me!" you're labelled as a conceited prick.

Somehow there has to be a healthy middle ground between cockiness and self-abasement. Or maybe it's just a Catch 22 situtation. Ever-shifting ground that no matter where you tread, or how carefully, you always end up on your arse with people standing around jeering.

The tall poppy syndrome really is well ingrained. It's like I've supped at the teat of overweening obsequiousness for all of my formative years and now all of a sudden I've realised how much of a reverse snobbery it is. Isn't it just another form of competitiveness to see who can be the most laconic about their own success? Even with realising that though, I've had to work bloody hard to share my success these last few weeks.

And I still feel like I've got tickets on meself every time I brag.


Thursday, October 26, 2006

Come on baby toot my horn!

I didn't binge this week!

Two weeks ago we received a debt collection letter regarding a hopsital visit we'd had back in October last year. A hospital visit where we'd given them our insurance information upon first receiving the bill for the visit. And each successive time we received another part of the bill. (You know how emergency rooms go. room visit, blood tests, Dr bill blah blah all come separately.) We woulda given them the insurance stuff right away when we were there. In fact I remember having the card out ready to write it... but there was no space for it on the admission form. Silly huh?

Anyway. Two weeks ago, on Columbus Day, I called the hospital to get it sorted out. They agreed that they were at fault and despite receiving the insurance info in a timely manner from us, they just plain forgot to bill the insurance company for this particular portion of the bill. And we're talking big bikkies here. Nearly $4,000. (over $4K after interest was added.) We had that money saved up, preferrably for a house, but if need be the money was there. (It made me ill to think of that money not being for our home, but possibly our hard-earned money for their bullshit!)

Having the money wasn't the point.. They made the mistake, and wanted US to pay for it? Bollocks to that!

They agreed that they'd just have to absorb the bill.

Gave them two weeks and checked the phone balance this weekend just gone. It still had a balance owing. The full balance.


I called first thing Monday morning. At first the guy tried to play it off like I'd never called previously, "I'm sorry, we have no record of that in our computer!" Funny? I had written down, day, time, and name of the call centre employee I'd spoken too, which ironically enough was the same guy I was then speaking to. I recognised both his name and voice. When I repeated back his own words to him, he hurried off to again check with someone else. "Sorry, you were right, and I was wrong."

Not trusting his assertion that it'd be fixed, (why should I he'd already lied once about it?) I called the debt collector myself to sort it out! (what's that old saying? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me?")

I called up today to see how it was going. The debt collector said the medical centre had cancelled the account. Her words struck we as rather strange though. "If you receive any notification, it'll be from the hospital."
IF. Doncha love it? Weeks of stress and they may not even bother to send me the written confirmation that I've asked for on several occasions.

If this ever happens again, I won't be quite as trusting. I'll call the debt collector the first time after sorting it out.

But, yeah, despite being nerve-wracked for several days now. And I mean shaking and nauseous, I've kept my shit together fairly well. No binging on food, books, computer or anything else. Just went about my day as per usual, stressed and worried natch, but no binging!

HUGE step for me.


Wednesday, October 25, 2006


I've lost a stone since July. Damn, that feels SO good.


Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Robert Palmer Didn't Get It Quite Right.

"You're gonna have to face it you're addicted to love!" No, not love. Food. I was addicted to the false comfort of food.

This is part of someone's comment in response to my admission on the 19th of October about the binge from the previous weekend.

"Second; I hesitate to suggest this because there's such taboo in society about admitting feeling powerless over food, but I wonder if you wouldn't benefit from Overeater's Anonymous. The reason I mention it is because the way you describe your relationship with eating, i.e. the sense of hopelessness of staying on track; feeling like you don't have control over what or how much you eat; asking if you will binge again; not wanting to eat, but doing it anyway; eating when not hungry; it reminds me of an addict, only your addiction is food. If you look into it and decide, "no way--it's not for me" nothing lost, but if it helps you, then all the better. Whatever you decide know that I hope you are able to find peace and are able to acheive the goals you have set for yourself. hell, i wish that for myself. :P

I hope my suggestion does not offend you. Please know that is the last thing on earth I want. I love reading your comments and think you are insightful and funny. Hang in there! :)"

It's taken me three days to get my thoughts in order enough to post a reply. I didn't wanna go off half-baked and possibly come across as my way is the only way and you suck for even suggesting such a thing, because I don't feel that way at all. I did appreciate her questions, all of everyone's questions. It makes me sit back and think some more about what I'm doing and where I'm going. It helps me to put into words what I'm actually feeling. Well as long as the comments and questions are constructive, of course.

This'll be a long'un, bear with me please. ;)

Thanks, P. I know that emotional binging has been my biggest issue in the past, it's one I've been working at dealing with since April this year (since reading Losing Your Pounds Of Pain and making great inroads into understanding just what has caused my obesity. Have posted much of that journey on the weight loss forum this comment came from, and in my various livejournals.)

Her suggestion didn't offend me in the slightest. I believe that Overeaters Anonymous do a fantastic job of helping many, many people overcome their addictions to food. I did go and look at their website, and read it through thoroughly after watching some television show where a woman did successfully (by successfully I mean lose the weight and keep it off by continuing to live a healthy lifestyle) lose weight with them.

Unfortunately for my participation in their program? I'm not a religious person. I do have my own set of beliefs, but I don't follow any organised religion and a lot of their 12 steps do involve dealing with God. So, I knew I would not be comfortable with their program, even before attempting to use it. Looking at the steps I realise I have followed the spirit of some of their steps, but others have just not applied to me in the slightest, and so consequently I would have “failed” their program. For the people who find this works for them, I think it's wonderful. Same with weight watchers, Jenny Craig, or any other lifestyle change that people do to become healthy, fully functioning members of society. Finding what works for us is what matters. Finding good health truly is a wonderful thing to achieve.

OA wouldn't have worked for me, but their website did encourage me to keep looking. I knew there had to be something out there for me.

Eventually it wasn't some nebulous Out There, it was In Here, that did it for me.

You see, food wasn't really my addiction. Binge eating for me was a band aid that I put on any emotions that I didn't want to feel, or felt uncomfortable feeling. It was also about making my outer reality reflect the inner vision of how I saw myself. So, that was another reason that OA really didn't resonate for me. I'm sure that if it had been right for me, it wouldn't have mattered about God being a big part of their steps, I could have substituted in whatever higher power I believed in, be it Allah, Buddha, Universal Soul Mind, Earth Mother, Tree Spirits, or Little Green Men. I'm sure even agnostics or atheists could find a way to make it work. But I just knew deep in my heart it wasn't right, for me.

My binging wasn't just on food, it was also on reading. Whenever I was depressed in the past, I would read book after book after book for days or even weeks and months on end, as well as eating to deny my feelings.

Dieting was also part of my problem. I'd count calories and exercise and obsess over food completely. I remember one phone call with my mother (who also has had an obesity problem in the past, she's actually only about ten kilos from her goal weight now, also through eating intuitively and exercising regularly. She's been leading the way for over 18 months now and I was just too stubborn to LISTEN to what she, and my body, were actually saying to me.) where she said something along the lines of: For fuck's sake can't we talk about something other than food and weight loss?
I'd diet so well, that my body would rebel and demand feedings every month or so of the nutrition I was denying my very active self, and I'd feel like I'd blown the diet so what was the point. And so on into a depression cycle that would see me balloon even bigger than I'd ever previously been. This cycle has gone on for about ten years now.

Finally after much soul searching I realised that my self-hatred and feelings of being fat all stemmed from when I started puberty. It's a bit of a kick in the head to realise that you're letting your ten year old self still dictate your actions when you were coming up thirty! So I went back and thought, over many months, about how my relationship with food has changed since then. How I've reacted to various events in my life. How my family relates to food and reacts to stress (either good or bad) and which bits were learned behaviour, and which was self-inflicted.

Once I'd worked all that out, I then set about figuring out just what I'd done in previous attempts to lose weight that had actually been successful.

Every single one involved intuitive eating and regular exercise. Varied exercise too. OK. So, perhaps counting calories wasn't for me. But, as a learning exercise I decided to eat intuitively, and at the end of every several days or a week, or whenever it took my fancy, to calculate what I was eating. So, yeah, I was still keeping a food diary, but I wasn't sticking to some figure out of a book. Sure, I did take advice from Karen Daly's Fats and Figures about what was a healthy fat and calories range to eat from, but if I went over, so what? I was going to listen to my body once and for all. My stomach that is, not my tastebuds. Sure, they'd get the occasional look in if I felt like a binge, but they wouldn't be the boss of me and my emotions anymore.

That was the easy part. Well, okay, not easy by any means, but easier than some of the other stuff. Again it took me a few months to get into the swing of that.

Next, well that was learning to accept and feel my “negative” emotions without judging them or me. They're just emotions. Anger, Fear, Sadness, Loneliness, even Hate, they're all natural things to feel at certain times. I wasn't a bad person for feeling them, they just happen.

Then, a few weeks after that I discovered the book Overcoming Overeating. Now a great deal in the book resonated with me. I took what I needed, and left what didn't work for me, or what I'd already achieved. Yes, I admit it, it was nice receiving validation from Out There about what I'd been trying to do for years upon years. Funny how we need validation instead of just trusting ourselves isn't it? The thing that amazed me the most is that not just obese people have overeating or binging problems with food. Or an addiction to food. It was the first time that I'd come to realise that 'skinny' people can have overeating disorders as well. Food Addicts come in all shapes and sizesl.

The last few weeks I've been studying 'normal' people. Watching how they eat, how they exercise, asking them about how they see food and how it plays a part in their lives. And the thing I've come to realise is that all these years I haven't really loved food as much as I thought I did. Love means acceptance. I wasn't accepting food, I was abusing it.

OK, so yeah that did make me a food addict, but the solution that OA offered was not one that would work for my addiction. We weren't compatible. Does that make sense? It was kinda like going on a blind date, and instinctively knowing that we were completely wrong for each other, but would be perfectly happy with other people. Like how you sometimes don't get what your best friend sees in one of her other friends, but they adore each other. LOL I needed to find what worked for me. And thankfully I have.

The binge from the other week was brought on by several factors. My birthday had been coming up that week and it was an important birthday. I believed I would be spending it home alone with no friends and no family around me. For a very social person who'd always believed she'd have a big party for it, it was a big letdown. It also brought home to me the fact that after living here for three and a half years I was no closer to finding any friends here in the same city. I have many close friends, a lot of good acquaintances and a large and loving family. We only have one close friend within several hundred miles, and he is one of Hubby's college friends. Not disparaging him or his lovely wife in the slightest, but despite being close friends, they are friends we associate with maybe twice a year, if we're lucky. Mainly due to us not wanting to be always calling them and saying come hang out with us. Don't want to chase them away, and they do have their own lives with lots of friends to go out with. Kinda hard to have a party with only four of us. Besides I really didn't want to do the whole go out to dinner thing again like we've done every year since I've been here. I certainly didn't feel like cooking on my own birthday. (rambling on I know, sorry just trying to explain where I was at that weekend).
I was depressed, really truly depressed. And I wanted to see all my family and friends... and dammit I wanted to hug my dog! My great-aunt was also in hospital with renal failure.. or had just come out, can't quite remember. We'd had a bullshit letter that week from a debt collection agency (That I dealt with again today.. without binging yay!) It was a shitty week. If any of you have suffered depression you know how debilitating it can be. My medication of choice? Food.

Adding to that melting pot of stormy angst was the fact that I had finally reached the point where I'm no longer going to count calories. Sure, I'll keep the food diary, but I will no longer be measuring anything or counting so much as a single calorie or gram of whatever.

Scary concept to a girl who loves to crunch numbers and be “in control” of her shit. I'd finally told myself “I trust you” and “I believe you are a healthy person” and I was right! I was like the kid learning to ride a bike. Mum or Dad running behind me holding onto the seat whilst I ride on completely confident and assured of my safety net. Shock! Horror! When I complete my big curving turn and face back down the street . . . there's the safety net a hundred metres behind me looking on proud as can be. Of course I fell off the damn bike. LOL

But I went with the binge. I didn't judge myself. I acknowledged it. Definitely admitted to feeling scared and all negative-like, and then picked myself back up as soon as was possible. It was kinda like how I imagined they felt in the sixties when burning their bras. No more would the man oppress me and tell me what to do. I was me, free and unfettered at last.

Scary, exhilarating, joyous and downright weird all at once is how it feels.

Do you know how much more time I have to live my life now that I'm not counting calories? That was another scary thing. I couldn't avoid living my life. Writing, chores, going outside of the house for more than just exercise. So much more to see and do when I'm not obsessing over food.

And no, I'm not preaching or advocating here in the slightest. I'm only sharing what has worked and is working for me. Just like OA wasn't my bag baybee, this way of doing things is not going to be for everyone else. Shit, it may not be for anyone else, but in the long run, that doesn't matter. Because it's working for me.

One really liberating experience was eating just a banana for dinner one night. That may not sound like ground-breaking stuff but for me it was. It was the first time in my life that I didn't eat a full meal just because I was “s'posed to”. I wasn't all that hungry and all I really felt like was that banana. Yet, I got out the ingredients for a cup of tea and toast or muffins or something. Then I put them back, because even though it was “dinner time” I just wasn't hungry for anything else. And so what if I woke up hungry later in the evening and wanted a snack. That'd be just fine. If I slept through, then that'd be just fine too. The other day for lunch I ate half a pizza because I was very hungry. So what? It was what I wanted at the time. The other day at hubby's work, I went back for seconds at lunch. I was starving. Today so far all I've eaten is a couple of sandwiches and a few dried apricots. Really am not all that hungry.
Another breakthrough last night. Hubby wanted minestrone, or something vegetable-ish. He eats an animal protein every day at work, so he always once lighter type foods at home on the weekend. I really wanted meat of some kind last night. So I reheated his minestrone, and went looking for what I wanted. I'd thought it was steak, but nope, it was won-tons/gyozas/potstickers. LOL We both got what satisfied our appetites and felt good for it.

Sorry to go on blowing my horn here, but I just feel SO good about all this. Such little things but believe you me, in my world, they're huge steps forward.

And watching the people who've never had a food addiction eat? I came to realise that they do indeed listen to their bodies. They'll have hungry days, not so hungry days, bingey days (or weeks) but on the most part they just eat as much as they want and no more.

My whole view of food is changing and I don't know where it's gonna take me. I love food. For me food is an exercise in sensuality. But you know what? It's becoming just that, a PART of my life that I enjoy, not my whole reason for being.
I also am beginning to love the sensual feeling that is a strong healthy body. My womanly body. I'm not a ten year old kid. I love my curves. I love my freckles. I love my wrinkles and signs of maturity. I love my blemishes. All of this and more makes up who I am. It shows the path I've taken to become the person I am today. I'm also learning to love the scared child/woman that needed food to comfort her. I'm accepting her, but also showing her that she doesn't need to keep living in that self destructive way. In many ways I'm treating her like I hope to treat my own kids some day, like how I treat anyone else in my life that I love and respect, and how they treat me.

Love, trust and respect. Those other people deserve it from me, and I deserve to have me apply them to myself also.

So I'm living my life to the best of my ability each day. One day at a time. That's all any of us can do.

Some days I may not like me very much either, but that's perfectly OK. No one's agreeable 100% of the time. If they tell you so, they're a bullshit artist of the highest sort, even if that person is yourself.


Monday, October 23, 2006

Week One - Check. (320 minutes.)
Week Two - Check. (405 minutes.)
Week Three - Check. (397 minutes.)
Day Twenty Two - Check. (40 minutes walk. Up and down hills. not sure of the distance.)
Day Twenty Three - Check. (40 minutes yoga, stretching, meditation.)
Day Twenty Four - Check. (35 minutes cross train aerobics. 5 minutes stretching.)
Day Twent Five - Check. (40 minutes yoga)
Day Twenty Six - Check. (40 minutes cross-train aerobics.)
Day Twenty Seven - Check. (50 minutes Strength training. 50 minutes walk, 2 miles. 10 minute abs workout)

MMMmmmmmm Got my massage a day early. 'Scuse me while I go melt into a puddle of goo on the bed. LOL


Sunday, October 22, 2006

Progress Report Two

Weight: 225lbs, 102.3kgs
Body fat: 49%
BMI: 39.9.

All measurements are in centimetres.

Upper Chest: 101.7
Bustline: 120.9
Upper Right Arm: 43.8
Midriff: 98.8
Waistline: 105.1
Upper Hips: 135.4
Hips/Buttocks: 135.8
Right Thigh: 69.4
Left Thigh: 72.8
Right Calf: 44.4
Left Calf: 44.1

TOTAL: 972.2 cms
Loss of 10.2 cms / 4 inches


Friday, October 20, 2006

Exercise = Good. Food = Bad.

Week One - Check. (320 minutes.)
Week Two - Check. (405 minutes.)
Day Fifteen - Check. (40 minutes cross-train aerobics.)
Day Sixteen - Check. (50 minutes strength training.)
Day Seventeen - Check. (1 hour and 5 minute walk. 3 miles. 7 minutes stretching and cool down walk.)
Day Eighteen - Check. (30 minutes step aerobics. 2 minutes sit ups. 15 minutes stretching.)
Day Nineteen - Check. (20 minutes low impact aerobics. 1 hour walk. 2.5 miles)
Day Twenty - Check. (20 minute walk. 1 mile. 50 minutes strength training.)
Day Twenty One - Check. (40 minutes aerobics)
Day Twenty Two - Check. (40 minutes walk. Up and down hills. not sure of the distance.)
Day Twenty Three - Check. (40 minutes yoga, stretching, meditation.)

Saturday, ate reasonably healthy knowing we'd be going out on Sunday, and on Tuesday. But since Saturday I haven't eaten one healthy meal! I've gorged non-stop.

I don't know if it was brought on by my fear of succeeding so well at this lately, my 30th birthday being this week (and being apart from most of my family and friends) or just plain old depression, but whatever the cause, oh boy did I binge. Lunch on Sunday was at a brewery restaurant and I admit I did do well there, stopped when I was full, even left half my beer and burger behind, and didn't eat dinner because I was still too full.
Monday? I gorged on pickles and cream cheese sandwiches, a whole packet and a half of Stacey's baked pita chips and we're not talking the small packet here. Salami pasta, cheese cheese and more cheese. Tuesday I was at hubby's work, and I guess I didn't do too badly, but every meal was catered. oh boy. And I did eat some three snack packs of Cheeto's and a snack pack/yogo chocolate thing that I didn't really want.
Yesterday, don't really remember what I had for the early part of the day... no wait, I do remember the rest of the pita chips, and about 6 each miniature milkyway midnights and snickers, but then dinner rolled around and I ate half an extra large pizza with the works (I did substitute out the sausage and olives for pineapple and extra mushrooms, so it wasn't AS fatty... but still!)
Today so far? The rest of the pizza. Even after putting it in the freezer before bed last night! I just pulled it out and bunged it in the oven to re-heat.


Hopefully, since I've gone with the binge, it'll be done with now. Oh and haagen dazs ice cream yesterday. But that was so rich that I could only manage a bit over half a cup. Phew!

I'm not gonna exercise like a mad thing trying to get rid of the excess cals. The binge has happened, now I just need to pick myself back up and keep going. I was SO close to failing the streak comp last night. But about midnight I thought fuck it! At least I can do yoga and stretching, it's not that strenuous and hopefully it'll help me digest the massive amount of in my stomach, plus ease the soreness in my legs from the hill walking the day before.
It did.

But oh god the discomfort when I went to bed. Just to think, I used to go to bed every night feeling like that! No wonder I was always tired and grumpy. Am hoping my bod will want something healthy for dinner tonight, I'm just about salted out to be honest.

Off to drink some water, shower, then go buy my 21 days reward. Mmm booksies.


Monday, October 16, 2006

Definitely seeing progress.

Week One - Check. (320 minutes.)
Week Two - Check. (405 minutes.)
Day Fifteen - Check. (40 minutes cross-train aerobics.)
Day Sixteen - Check. (50 minutes stregnth training.)
Day Seventeen - Check. (1 hour and 5 minute walk. 3 miles. 7 minutes stretching and cooldown walk.)
Day Eighteen - Check. (30 minutes step aerobics. 2 minutes sit ups. 15 minutes stretching.)
Day Nineteen - Check. (20 minutes ow impact aerobics. 1 hour walk. 2.5 miles)
Day Twenty - Check. (20 minute walk. 1 mile. 50 minutes strength training.)

Can you believe tomorrow I'll be a quarter of the way through this already? :D
I'm already feeling so much fitter, leaner, and yes, sexier, can't wait to see how I am at the end of these 12 weeks!

Went and bought some new clothes and shoes on sale today. Most of them are now x-larges. But I did buy some mediums (in the plus sizes section) that fit. And some smalls to grow into of a slinky skirt and top combo that I really adored, as well as the mediums to wear now. (Well, we both agreed it was really sexy on me. YAY!)

and today, I went up half a lb on most of my weights for the strength training. Had to hold two lbs in each hand for the squats since the last time they did nothing for me, AND went up a lb on the bicep curls. Woohoo!


Saturday, October 14, 2006

Oh yeah, baybee!

Week One - Check. (320 minutes.)
Week Two - Check. (405 minutes.)
Day Fifteen - Check. (40 minutes cross-train aerobics.)
Day Sixteen - Check. (50 minutes stregnth training.)
Day Seventeen - Check. (1 hour and 5 minute walk. 3 miles. 7 minutes stretching and cooldown walk.)
Day Eighteen - Check. (30 minutes step aerobics. 2 minutes sit ups. 15 minutes stretching.)

Was SO excited yesterday that I took 5 minutes off my three miles time. definitely puts me on target to have the ten minutes off by the end of October. Yippee!

And I'm extremely pleased that I managed to complete that workout today. When we first tried it the other day I didn't even get halfway in before having to quit and switch to just side stepping, and even then didn't make the whole workout. AND BONUS, I completed one of the moves that hubby's been having trouble with all week. LOL

My outer thighs and hips are really feeling the burn tonight, I tell ya. Should probably do some yoga tomorrow and give them a niiiice big stretch out. Maybe even a hot bath tonight and some ice, just to be shurr to be shurr.


Thursday, October 12, 2006

The kindness of strangers.

The other month we had to go back to the INS office, oops 'scuse me, that's now the USCIS office, for yet another round with the lovely immigration officers. This time it was to remove the conditional element from my permanent residency status. (We'd been married less than two years when I applied to be a permanent resident, hence the conditional bit so you have to come back two years later and prove you're still married.) Assuming that it would be exactly like when we came in the last time to get the country of birth changed to the correct one on my greencard, hubby agreed to wait in the car, whilst I popped in to get it all sorted. Ass-U-Me. Yeah huh. It was gonna be a three hour plus wait! I didn't have my mobile phone with me, that arse you and me thing again, nor any quarters, so I had to find someone to exchange money with in order to be able to use the pay phones, which luckily they had.

After much debating on his behalf, and whining on mine, he said “Don't you dare leave, I'm coming in! We're here, and we're not leaving without the bloody thing.” I was feeling shitty because I was having a fat day and a half. Hungry because I hadn't thought to bring a snack or any water with me. Shitty because I'd not even brought a book to distract myself from the boredom or the hunger, and hubby had thought to. Most of all I was pissed off that hubby didn't give in to my exhortations to allow us to forget this visit and come again another day. (this was the third appointment we'd made, I'd had to cancel the other two due to stupid mistakes) No way, no bloody how, was he going back home that day without fulfilling every last friggen criteria.

So, I bashed the phone into its cradle and hurried over to the guard. Asked him, “Can I leave the premises to duck out and meet my husband?” to which I received an affirmative response. Hurried back to the phone to let hubby now it was all good.
Then, I stomped out, and then back in through security with him in tow. I smiled at the guard and said, “Thank you.”
He asked, “Is that your husband?”
I said, “Yes.”
He replied, “Lucky husband!” and gave me a very broad smile.

I know I blushed really badly because I could swear the sprinkler system gave a nervous chirp due to the intense heat flaring out from my cheeks.

Bad mood? What bad mood? I'd just been hit on! Talk about an ego boost. In front of my husband too! It gave both of us a reason to smile. Even now, I'll occasionally look over at him with a big smile on my face and say, “Lucky husband.” and we'll both crack up.

It's little kindnesses such as that genuine, heartfelt compliment that can make the difference between going home and binging out of frustration or looking in the mirror and liking what you see.


Mr Men.

Bear with me, this gets a little rambly.

Anyone remember those Mr Men and Little Miss books by Roger Hargreaves? I loved them as a child, still do love 'em, but they're packed away in boxes for whenever we have kids of our own to enjoy them. My brother and I loved them so much that Mum and Dad even got us some stuffed toys. Mine were Mr Greedy, Mr Tickle, and Mr Funny. Poor Mr Tickle only has one arm, he was so much fun to fling around and spin and whirl and turn in all kinds of acrobatic tumbles. (My brother had Mr Snow, Mr Bump and Mr Happy.) I remember I always wanted to trade Mr Funny for Mr Bump. Mr Funny was a bit poncy with that flower in his hat, and Mr Bump was the colour of my favourite football team.

Now, if I were to be a Little Miss character, this week I'd have to be Little Miss Grumpybum. I know she doesn't exist, but that's who I've been these last few days. It all started on the weekend when we got a debt collection bill, for an emergency room visit last year, that we'd already taken care of by giving the hospital our insurance information -- nearly ELEVEN MONTHS AGO! Thankfully, that got sorted out on Monday morning, and there was a brief return to my usual self. But, that Little Miss Grumpybum, she's persistent.

I was out on my walk Monday evening, and halfway across the pedestrian crossing at the traffic lights I noticed I was starting to hurry. Now, I know this is something I do quite often, and I know why I do it, I just had never fully realised the complete connotations of what I was doing, before. I got through the intersection and continued on my merry way, and sure enough, once I'd gotten off the crossing and onto the footpath, I slowed down to my more normal walking pace. But the damage had been done. I couldn't get my stride back. I had nearly re-strained my groin by going out too fast before I was really ready for it, and I was furious with myself for doing so. There was also the icing on the cake, a stitch! Say hello again to Little Miss Grumpybum. I walked the rest of the walk like that. It was agony. And it showed in my times too. Despite feeling like I was walking at a fairly quick pace, it took me five minutes longer than usual to complete my route.

As I continued around the course I was berating myself for being so stupid and nearly putting myself through the same injury hell I went through around this time last year. Then I stopped doing it when my brain thought of something else. I'd just got done over the weekend reading through the archives of Dietgirl. (The blog of an Aussie woman living in Scotland, and her battle with losing weight. http://www.dietgirl.org/) Almost stalkerish, but hey, I felt I could empathise with a lot of what she was saying. Not only the losing weight stuff, but the whole being a fellow expat thing as well.

Aaaaanyway, something she had said at various times had obviously struck a nerve within and I was finally ready to deal with yet another aspect of my weight and low self esteem. (I'd think after twelve months of this psychobabble shit that I'd be out of things to deal with, but nope.) Basically, I've long looked at myself as a second class citizen. This would manifest itself in a few different ways. There was trying harder than everyone else, just to prove the fat chick wasn't lazy. There was not bothering at all, because honestly, who expects anything from a fat chick? There was pretending I was invisible. There was pretending I was still “normal” and not fat in the slightest. That selective amnesia was always fun while it lasted. And then there was the defiance, screw yas all I'll be however I damn well please.

The entry that really resonated with me was when she talked about watching an obese women getting on a train and making a beeline straight for the single seat in the back. How being obese is constantly about calculations of how you're going to move your mass through the day. It's all true, I remember being at my heaviest and constantly having bruises on various body parts, because in my head I was still svelte and didn't have to turn quite so much to avoid objects as much as I obviously did. Then there was needing to move my boobs with my hands when I rolled over in bed. Why? Because I was afraid that it would hurt when I rolled over and they went plonk on the other side, and more importantly I was sure I'd drown in them halfway through the manoeuvre. I could even see the headlines, “Fat Woman Drowns In Own Tits! Looks Like You CAN Have Too Much Of A Good Thing.”

Other entries also got me right where I didn't wanna look just yet. The invisible factor. Dietgirl talked about how she always tried to be invisible. Looks like my subconscious agreed with hers. Second class citizens should be seen and not heard.
Why did I feel the need to hurry across every single traffic intersection whenever there was a car waiting to turn the corner?
Why did I apologise within my own head for my very existence?
Fat, people, the fat!
I know what people are like, especially when impatient or in a hurry. I was projecting up on a big movie screen inside my head, the soundtrack and inner dialogue of what those drivers were saying as they watching me walk towards them. “If she lost a few pounds, she'd be able to get out of my way faster.” “Look at that! She's so fat she can't even walk at a normal speed.” “Move it, Bargearse!” “It's, Waddle McDuck. Waddle faster, fatty!” And so, I'd walk faster. It doesn't help that I'm short, so I feel even more conscientious about trying to hurry across the road at a fair clip. Heaven help me if the light went red before I made it and I'd have to jog. There was the obscure pride that I still could muster up a jog, with good form, but there was the horror of knowing all my bits would be sproinging around with minds of their own.

And so, I nearly strained my groin because I felt like I didn't have the right to walk across a fucking road going whatever speed I felt comfortable. Never mind the fact that even if a slimtastic Barbie jogged across the road the drivers'd still be shitty for having to wait, it's still ALL YOUR FAULT YOU WORTHLESS HUNK OF FAT! And so, I gave myself a stern talking to the whole way through the walk. Hopefully today out on my walk I can be a little less self-conscious when crossing major intersections.

Little Miss Grumpybum wasn't listening though. Especially when I got up yesterday morning and weighed, and it said I was back up to 227lbs. WTF? Two whole weeks of exercising at least 40 minutes a day, and I GAINED two lbs? This is bullshit. Logically I knew I was bloated from the salt I'd had at dinner the night before, and from not drinking as much water as I normally would during the day, but two whole lbs! I waited a while longer, had another pee, and got back on the scales. Ahh.. much more respectable. But, then I was grumpy at myself for the whole day because I'd let those stupid numbers dictate how I was feeling. I know I'm healthier, I know I'm stronger, fitter and there's a whole lot less fat than two weeks ago, but I wanted to not be bloated. I wanted to see 223 or 224 on that scale, since I'd weighed in on Saturday at 225, not fuckin' 227! To make matters worse I was shitty with hubby all evening. In the end I did apologise for it, but I did make progress, I didn't apologise for the fact I was grumpy, just apologised for how I was snipping at him. I admitted I was feeling grumpy, and just allowed myself to be that way, instead of feeling like (as a second class citizen) that I didn't deserve to be grumpy, or that I had to always be as perky as bloody Pixie-Anne Wheatley

Last night at dinner time I nearly reached for the hot Milo, Vegemite toast with a shitload of butter, as well as the banana I'd been craving. But, I stopped myself. Did I wanna put back on those 13 lbs? Had I gone to the trouble of making a yummy, filling and healthy lunch, just so I could scarf down food I really didn't want for tea? NO! And then I realised the reason I wasn't all that hungry was because I'd had a substantial lunch, and a good-sized snack only a few hours before. So, I just had the banana, which is what I really wanted anyway, and some more water. You know what? I was satisfied. So many times in the past I'd eat, just because I thought it was dinner time, and so, I should eat. Who eats just a banana for a meal? That's just nuckin' futs that is. But, normal people do do that. If they're not that hungry, they'll just have something small, or won't have anything at all. It's all about listening to the body! And I figured, if I wake up hungry during the night, there's nothing that says I can't have a snack then anyway!

Little Miss Grumpybum? She got the arse, and I got to sleep really well last night without the unwanted food repeating on me all night long! Woohoo!


Wednesday, October 11, 2006

3rd reward reached already!

Week One - Check. (320 minutes.)
Week Two - Check. (405 minutes.)
Day Fifteen - Check. (40 minutes cross-train aerobics.)

I'll get hubby to give me the massage on the weekend though. Not really in the mood for it tonight.


3rd week

Last Week: 226 lbs (102.7 kgs)
This Week: 225 lbs (102.2 kgs)


Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Two Weeks' Notice.

If you hadda told me 3 weekends ago to listen up and take note because you had a secret to tell me. And that the secret you so whisperingly divulged was that I would be about to embark on two weeks of doing exericse every day. I woulda laughed in your face and called you a liar!

Yet here I am, having successfully completed that very thing.

Day One - Check. (35 minutes cross-train aerobics. 5 mins yoga.)
Day Two - Check. (40 minutes cross-train aerobics.)
Day Three - Check. (1 hr and 10 minutes walk. 3 miles.)
Day Four - Check. (40 minutes walk, 2 miles. 20 minutes cross-train aerobics.)
Day Five - Check. (40 minutes walk. Not sure of the distance as it was somewhere different than usual.)

5 days: Special Bath (aka candles, oils, book, drink of choice)

Day Six - Check. (50 minutes strength training.)
Day Seven. - Check. (40 minute walk. 1 3/4 miles.)
Day Eight - Check. (40 minutes cross-train aerobics. 5 minutes stretching.
Day Nine - Check. (1 hour and 5 minutes walk. 2 1/3 miles. 20 minutes Yoga.)
Day Ten - Check. (40 minutes Yoga.)

10 days: Lunch at my favourite sushi takeaway

Day Eleven - Check. (20 minutes A.M yoga. 20 minutes P.M. yoga.)
Day Twelve - Check. (50 minutes strength training. 40 minute walk.)
Day Thirteen - Check. (20 minutes aerobics. 40 minute walk.)
Day Fourteen - Check. (45 minutes walk. 2 miles.)

I felt like I was walking faster today, but my times attest that it wasn't actually fast. I wonder if that was the cold air making my legs feel crampy as I was going along? Next walk I'll try wearing long pants and see what that does for me.



I have this nice pair of green capris that are a few years old. I bought them my first autumn of living here and loved 'em to death. I haven't been able to wear them since that autumn. (2003)

Last time I tried them on, not sure when it was but it was at least eighteen months ago, I could get them up, but they were tight across the bum, and couldn't get them closed. Not by a good inch and a half at least! They went nowhere near each other. I promptly shoved them in the back of the closet and forgot about them.

On a whim, I just tried them on when clearing out the wardrobe. They do up! The button does up easily, and they fit very comfortably on the hips, bum, thighs and legs.

Only problem?

The fly won't budge.

No, no, not due to it being a dud zipper or anything, the belly just protrudes a little too much for any self-respecting zipper to happily oblige. (That damn yo-yo-ing again, it does nothing but add extra fat deposits!) My 18W jeans that I was so happy to buy last year, they fit again as of last night, but then again they did stretch upwards with me by several pounds until they too could take no more. These 18w capris didn't stretch no way no how.

My goal for this month? To at least get the capris fastened. Even if I can't walk, bend or sit in them. I want that zipper UP!

In July I could only *just* fasten my 22W cargo shorts (the ones I'm wearing in the progress shots), now I'm almost into my 18W capri pants. Cool huh!

(For the Aussies. 22W American is a 26 in Aussie sizes. and an 18W is a 22. And we're talking big is beautiful sizes not "regular" people sizes.)


Monday, October 09, 2006

Bright-eyed and Bushy-tailed

Day One - Check. (35 minutes cross-train aerobics. 5 mins yoga.)
Day Two - Check. (40 minutes cross-train aerobics.)
Day Three - Check. (1 hr and 10 minutes walk. 3 miles.)
Day Four - Check. (40 minutes walk, 2 miles. 20 minutes cross-train aerobics.)
Day Five - Check. (40 minutes walk. Not sure of the distance as it was somewhere different than usual.)

5 days: Special Bath (aka candles, oils, book, drink of choice)

Day Six - Check. (50 minutes strength training.)
Day Seven. - Check. (40 minute walk. 1 3/4 miles.)
Day Eight - Check. (40 minutes cross-train aerobics. 5 minutes stretching.
Day Nine - Check. (1 hour and 5 minutes walk. 2 1/3 miles. 20 minutes Yoga.)
Day Ten - Check. (40 minutes Yoga.)

10 days: Lunch at my favourite sushi takeaway

Day Eleven - Check. (20 minutes A.M yoga. 20 minutes P.M. yoga.)
Day Twelve - Check. (50 minutes strength training. 40 minute walk.)
Day Thirteen - Check. (20 minutes aerobics. 40 minute walk.)


Sunday, October 08, 2006

Rested and Refreshed!

Two days in a row of yoga and I'm feeling good again!

Day One - Check. (35 minutes cross-train aerobics. 5 mins yoga.)
Day Two - Check. (40 minutes cross-train aerobics.)
Day Three - Check. (1 hr and 10 minutes walk. 3 miles.)
Day Four - Check. (40 minutes walk, 2 miles. 20 minutes cross-train aerobics.)
Day Five - Check. (40 minutes walk. Not sure of the distance as it was somewhere different than usual.)

5 days: Special Bath (aka candles, oils, book, drink of choice)

Day Six - Check. (50 minutes strength training.)
Day Seven. - Check. (40 minute walk. 1 3/4 miles.)
Day Eight - Check. (40 minutes cross-train aerobics. 5 minutes stretching.
Day Nine - Check. (1 hour and 5 minutes walk. 2 1/3 miles. 20 minutes Yoga.)
Day Ten - Check. (40 minutes Yoga.)

10 days: Lunch at my favourite sushi takeaway

Day Eleven - Check. (20 minutes A.M yoga. 20 minutes P.M. yoga.)
Day Twelve - Check. (50 minutes strength training. 40 minute walk.)


Saturday, October 07, 2006


Day One - Check. (35 minutes cross-train aerobics. 5 mins yoga.)
Day Two - Check. (40 minutes cross-train aerobics.)
Day Three - Check. (1 hr and 10 minutes walk. 3 miles.)
Day Four - Check. (40 minutes walk, 2 miles. 20 minutes cross-train aerobics.)
Day Five - Check. (40 minutes walk. Not sure of the distance as it was somewhere different than usual.)

5 days: Special Bath (aka candles, oils, book, drink of choice)

Day Six - Check. (50 minutes strength training.)
Day Seven. - Check. (40 minute walk. 1 3/4 miles.)
Day Eight - Check. (40 minutes cross-train aerobics. 5 minutes stretching.
Day Nine - Check. (1 hour and 5 minutes walk. 2 1/3 miles. 20 minutes Yoga.)
Day Ten - Check. (40 minutes Yoga.)

10 days: Lunch at my favourite sushi takeaway

Day Eleven - Check. (20 minutes A.M yoga. 20 minutes P.M. yoga.)

Enjoyed the yoga so much yesterday that I did some more today. A different dvd, but still just as good. My body really appreciated the two days of flexibility sessions after so many strenuous workout days in a row.

This is something I also have to remember to keep doing. So many times in the past I completely neglected the flexibility/relaxation part of having a healthy body. I remember even as a gymnast I'd get bored or frustrated with the stretching because I wanted to be running and tumbling and building my muscles. As a swimmer and softball player I'd invariably wind up bored with the flexibility conditioning. I was too bendy to be dealing with the stretches mere mortals have to be content with.

Now? I need to modify stretches and yoga poses. Not just because I'm less flexible, but because I have girth that interferes with my ability to bend and flex like I know I should be able to. It's very frustrating at times. But, keep working at it and soon I'll be able to twist myself any which way I choose. With the onset of autumn and then winter leading me to be less inclined to shave various bits, I may well end up having more than a passing resemblance to those pipe cleaners we used to play with in art class in primary school. But, you know, with much better cleavage.


Apologies to my Friendslist!

I must apologise for the big glut of posts that will show up today after my posting spreeeeeeeee.

I posted them because I'm wanting to remember how far I've come in the past few years. And wanted to get all these up whilst I was remembering to do it. I've been meaning to do this for weeks now.

Once again, I beg your indulgence and ask you to accept ten thousand kisses upon your toesies as I prostrate my humble self before your magificent benevolence.


13th March 2006. Perception

The mind is a marvellous affair. Complex, yet capable of complete simplicity.

And perception is everything.

I couldn't possibly count the number of times I've received a compliment over the course of my life, and disbelieved that very sincere form of appreciation. Not just compliments about my looks, but my abilities, or tasks I've done for others, or things I've said. But I'm mainly going to focus on compliments about my looks for the moment.

“You look lovely today” “Gosh that outfit suits you!” “That really is your colour” “Hubba hubba” or the ubiquitous wolf whistle. All things that gave a momentary flutter of ego stroking, which was then ruthlessly squashed by my nemesis which dwells in the depths of my sub-conscious; the Low Self Esteem Demon. You all know what I mean. That voice that tells you terrible things about yourself. Most often those things are not true, but if you're told something often enough, especially by something that resides inside your head and can whisper at you when you're not even aware of it, you tend to believe it.

I was in the shower last night and thinking back over my weight gain/loss journey and it amazed me to realise that this is the most comfortable I've ever felt in my skin. I have strength. My health is good. My nails, hair, and teeth are all strong and clean. There's a sparkle in my eyes. I have self confidence.

You know what? It feels wonderful.

So why is it that at 229lbs I can see and appreciate all of those things, yet at age 16-19 when I was an elite athlete, I couldn't?

Did I take my strength, flexibility and fitness for granted? Sure, in some ways I did, because I hadn't known any other way of being. I revelled in the physical power I had, whilst at the same time abhorring the bulk that I had. Well. . . perceived myself to have.

Short, curvy, with an abundance of cleavage, and well defined (as opposed to over defined) muscles. That was me during my teenage years. What hell that is when you're surrounded by willowy creatures. Tall and lean girls who were long distance runners. Studious type girls who never exercised a day in their lives. The ever present 'popular' clique that due to some mysterious substance are deemed to be better than us mere mortals.

I could flit from group to group, talk to them all, yet never seemed to belong to any. At the time that was horrible, but now i realise that's part of who I am. A born communicator.

Oops, but there I go digressing. Sorry about that, where was I? Ahh, yes. All those specimens of leanness that I longed to emulate, and would never be able to. A lifetime of conditioning one's muscles tends to lead to an inability to be scrawny. LOL It was against those perceived divas of perfection that I judged myself. And it was against my childhood self, that I judged my own body also. Lean, powerful gymnastic body, against the voluptuous young woman I had become. All I could see was that I was fat!

Fat, Fat, FAT! And mustn't forget ugly. I had an abundance of freckles and long red hair. No olive skin to tan, no blond hair that the gentlemen prefer. I was fat, ugly, and horrible.

When I graduated high school, eleven years ago, it seemed I was subconsciously hell bent on proving to everyone how fat, ugly and horrible I truly was, since they were all lying to me. I knew myself better than them, how dare they say nice things about me! Ten years I punished myself, and to be honest those around me, with my destructive need to stuff myself stupid.

It was with striking clarity that I could look at pictures we found this week.
Pictures from our December 2004 Christmas holiday. In that picture, I can see a happy, vibrant woman. She's dressed prettily. She's full of love for those in the picture with her, the person taking the shot, and for herself. She feels confident and beautiful. Yet, she's morbidly obese. Mentally and spiritually I can see that the woman is on the mend from the damage done in the decade prior, but physically she's still got a few more steps along the self hatred road to travel. Thankfully, the last leg was mercifully short. Just three weeks later the long road finally reached the bottom. Then began the climb upwards to healing.

Feeling pretty, thinking you're getting fitter and are regaining control of yourself, to three weeks later standing at the bottom of a huge hill in sweaty pants and t-shirt and realising that if you climb that hill you could possibly die, is a BIG slap in the face.

Coming home from that moment and looking in the mirror and seeing that, yes you are really and truly fat; ugly; and horrible to yourself and those around you without cause or justification, is heartrending.

What's truly despicable is that I'd done it to myself!

Killing myself because I didn't measure up to how I perceived other self absorbed, confidence-lacking teenagers to be is ridiculous! Turning myself into the twisted reflection of my teenage perceptions was horrendous.

Ugly? Ugly is believing that you are not worthy, and bludgeoning your sense of self nearly to death with spiteful words.
Horrible? That's being a prisoner amongst your own self hatred, and coming to realise just what you've done to yourself.
Fat? Yes, I definitely am that still. But I'm going to live the rest of my life as healthily as I possibly can, one day at a time.

This ten year journey has been arduous, but it's also been necessary. For much of that time all I was doing was looking backwards and being dissatisfied with the comparisons between the current 'now', and the prior 'then'.
Today I can look back and see how young, immature and selfish I actually was. Well, maybe self absorbed instead of selfish. Completely focused on me and my perceptions and believing that mine was the only point of view that mattered. Other people sometimes have a clearer perspective than I do. Sometimes their perspective can alter your own. Sometimes yours can alter all by itself in the blink of an eyelid, or the glimpse of a photo. LOL

It's amazing how love changes things.

No, I'm not talking about love from your relatives or friends. I'm talking about loving yourself. Loving yourself for who you are inside, not what you think you should be on the outside. Even loving that Low Self Esteem Demon for making life interesting. (It's a war I intend to win, even if the LSED wins some battles occasionally.)

Now, I'm not gonna start the esoteric psychobabble about loving thyself, because I believe that is personal and private. Each person has their own way of loving themselves, and what works for me may not work for anybody else. I'm just trying to share my joy at finding myself. My joy of discovering how far I've come in the past twelve months. My joy at living the rest of my life improving. The single moment when looking at the photo and realising that I'd been blinding myself in many different ways, but that now I could see.

My complex and long lasting problem was finally solved by something as simple and profound as love. One little step in a direction, and all the previous steps are now given a different perspective. As I said, the mind is an amazing thing. Life is too much fun to spend wallowing in self perpetuating bullshit.

I'm looking forward to enriching my life so that I can be both selfish and selfless in positive ways.

I love being strong. I enjoy being flexible. My curves are beautiful. I love my red hair and freckles.

Most of all, I believe in ME!


Selfishness (sometime around July last year)


Things that are s'posed to be bad for us, right?


Women are taught from an early age to be selfless. We must be caring, giving, and nurturing -- of others. If we take time for ourselves that's considered to be almost evil. Well, OK it's socially acceptable to take the time to go have our hair or nails done, to make ourselves more pleasing in aspect whilst we work hard at that caring and nurturing others thing again, but to actually take time to nurture ourselves?
That's selfish and downright BAD!

Women must give and give and give, and never take time for ourselves, so we sublimate our wants or needs and nurture ourselves by shoving a pound cake or two into our faces and call it good.
Food = love remember, therefore if I'm shoving food into my face at an exorbitant rate, I'm loving myself, right?


I tell my husband and family members I love them. They know I love them, they feel great whilst basking in my love. I know they love me, they often tell me so, it feels wonderful to be surrounded by so much love.
Keeping that last paragraph in mind, i have two questions for you.
a) When was the last time you told yourself "I love you?"
b) When was the last time you told yourself you're a fat ugly cow? (or something to that effect.)

But if I love myself, that means I'm a stuck up bitch, right?

Lemme hear you say it.. WRONG!

Loving yourself. Taking time for yourself. Nurturing yourself. Why is this concept so abhorrent to so many of us? That question I cannot answer, only because each of us has our own reasons for such pernicious feelings, but we can ALL fix it, if we wish.

Most of us clean our teeth at least once a day, right? Every time you're cleaning your teeth, look yourself in the mirror. Go ahead, look yourself right in the eyes. Trust me at first even THAT is hard to do. Once you're OK with that, look yourself in the eye and think "I love you."
The catch is to say it like you mean it. Think of how you feel when you look into the love of your life's eyes, or your children's, dog's, cat's or whatever's eyes and you tell THEM that you love them. We're looking for THAT kind of truth when telling ourselves that we love us.
You wouldn't look into your kids eyes and lie about loving them, would you? So please be honest with yourself.

If this one is too tricky to start with, how about next time you seek a glimpse of yourself in a shop window as you walk by to stare at X body part that you loathe.. yes i know we all do it, how about instead you give yourself a compliment?
It may be something as simple as your skin looks good today. Pick something to compliment yourself on. If something negative tries to intrude, tell it to sod off and think of something positive. Even just congratulate yourself on trying to think of something positive if you can't quite get to a positive thought yet.
Don't worry it'll come with practice.

Once you begin to try this stuff.. i bet you'll be horrified at just how many times a day you say something hurtful, negative or even downright NASTY to yourself.

Please, start to love yourself.

Now.. how does this all tie in with being greedy and selfish you might be wondering? All this loving is surely a part of being selfless and nurturing, in no way is it greedy.

Well, actually it sets you up to be greedy and selfish, in a good way.

Once you start to realise that you are a person worth as much love as you lavish on everyone else that you care for and nurture, you'll start to realise that it's ok to be selfish and greedy with yourself.

You do not have to be on call for your family 24 hours a day. If you take just 30 minutes every day to do something healthy for yourself, you're not a bad mother/wife/daughter/friend. Your family won't hate you. They may be uncomfortable with this new selfish you for awhile, but once they realise that for just HALF AN HOUR out of every 24, you are unreachable, they'll adjust to it.
In fact it will probably improve your relationships because they won't take you for a selfless doormat anymore.

Be greedy with your half an hour, it's yours dammit, and nobody else's.
If you can't do it every day, start with 1 day, or 2, and work your way up to 5.
Take the time to nurture and love yourself.
Be greedy about your health.
Because if we're to keep nurturing, loving and caring for the ones we love -- we need to be healthy and whole within ourselves.

Who thinks they can spare half an hour today, just for themselves?
I know I can.
In fact I just did.

The half an hour that it took me to write this piece helped me solidify my own sense of purpose, it helped me renew my sense of commitment to my own health and wellbeing. It helped clear away the negative clutter I'd been starting to accumulate over the last two weeks of NOT taking my half an hour for myself. How? By putting the need of my in-laws' to be with me whilst they were visiting -- ahead of my own need to keep my daily food diary and exercise schedule.

Now i'm off to look in the mirror and tell myself "I love you." And then i'm going to do some writing, then guess what? I'm going to be super greedy and take ANOTHER half hour out from my daily chores and writing to do my exercises.
Who's got half an hour they can use to nurture themselves? Or even thirty seconds to look themselves in the eye and say, "ya know what, if those that I love and respect find something in me to love, surely I can trust their opinion?"

Go ahead try it. It's only three little words. "I. Love. You."


Dec 2nd 2005

I just got back from my usual morning walk, and today I'm absolutely knackered! Sure it was a little longer than normal at 2 1/3 miles instead of the more normal 2, but the last mile was a killer.


I'd been grocery shopping.

There wasn't really all that much that I'd bought: 6 packets cake mix, tomatoes, limes, cilantro/coriander, and spinach, (plus my two water bottles that always come with me when i walk.)

Having one of those nifty backpacks that has not only the waist strap and shoulder straps, but also the ones that go around your chest, the weight was fairly well distributed so that my shoulders didn't die and my arms numb, which is what used to happen with my old backpack.

anyway I digress.

Starting out on the way back home I felt great -- 2/3's of the way home and i was head down trudging along slowly and wishing for the house to magically have moved closer to the shops.

Out of curiosity when i got home I got on the scales, bag and all. Then took the bag off and weighed myself.

The difference? A measly 20 lbs!

Here I was thinking that 16-20lbs is ok, but not really that much. Not bloody likely, it's a LOT!

To think i used to walk around almost that much heavier. Sleep, eat, make love, exercise, carry shopping, EVERYthing was me carrying around that much extra weight. No wonder I was always exhausted!

Oh and I s'pose for those that are finding their daily walks a little easier and don't want to jog or power walk, there's another option, pile ten lbs in your backpack and off ya go! No sore ankles or wrists from weights, just nice comfy supported weight.

Enough waffling Kada, get to the point already!

OK the experiment.

For those that wish to participate of course, you don't HAVE to do this.
Take a backpack, shove it full of stuff(i.e. bags of sugar, cans of goodies, books, dumbbells, whatever) to equal the amount of weight you've lost.. then go for a walk with that backpack on, and come back and tell us how you felt? LOL


The Great Groin Fiasco of 2005

18th October 2005

I'm starting to feel what's the point?
I work really hard at getting myself fitter, somehow keep myself motivated throughout that really long plateau and just as I break the damn thing -- I strain my groin.
The rest of my body is raring to go, but I'm not allowed to anymore. It could be 4-6 weeks before I can even think about getting back on the exercise schedule.. and then I'm back where I was several months ago.

My positive usual self is saying "at least it wasn't a tear, it's not a hernia, it's only a minor thing. Be grateful. Just drop the calories down and go for a walk as often as possible, stretch the hips as often as is comfy and we'll be back on track soon."

The rest of me says "f**k off!"

I was really enjoying the feeling of being healthier and stronger, also looking forward to making even more progress and being as fit as I possibly could be, by the end of the year.

I'm just so sick of the setbacks, actually I'm almost ready to say "fine, i get the hint, I'm not s'posed to be a healthy weight!"

Almost... but, not quite there yet.
I've still got enough self respect to put the head down and plod on through this and hopefully come out the other side without losing too much ground.

19th October 2005

Yesterday was a Bad, Bad day, I don't have them often, but when I do, they're horrible. Hubby and I went for a stroll last night and it was while we were talking about our respective days that I realised I was overwhelmed by the unfairness of it all. This time I really had gotten my sh*t together, making steady progress, really believing that I am able to get fit and healthy. This wasn't like all the other times where I'd self-sabotaged myself, I really had no control over this injury. Same with the other injuries/mishaps, but this time it is different, I know for a fact it'll be 4-6 weeks before I can even contemplate starting to get back to my regular amount of exercise. My hope of being below 200 for Christmas has now become an impossibility. Add into this the fact that my sister-in-law is due to give birth at the end of this month, another friend gave birth this week, and another friend is also due in 6 weeks. I'd been hiding all day yesterday from the fact that I too would have been due to give birth within the next four weeks. Thankfully once I acknowledged that thought whilst out and about walking, I could have a little cry and deal with it. Dealing successfully with that allowed me to move on from it and concentrate on the weight-loss issue.

So this morning I've sat down and thought long and hard about where I am, what I'm doing and where I'm going. The dream of 200lbs by Christmas/New year's is a dream that's been laid to rest, and even if I was totally fit, there's no guarantees I would have gotten there anyway.
The dream has been put aside, and now I deal with reality. I must allow this injury time to heal, 4-6 weeks is nothing in the grand scheme of things. I can continue my short strolls of an evening, slowly but surely moving up to two strolls a day.. and then lengthening them as my injury will allow. NO pushing too hard. If I need to stay at one stroll a day for the next 6 weeks.. well so be it, I'm going to get well, not make myself sicker. This bull is ignoring the gate! honest!

I have two goals for the rest of the year.
Remain as fit as I am now, if not get a little fitter.
Get to my first mini goal weight by the time I come back from Christmas holidays on the 5th January.

That's 12 weeks to lose 11 lbs. But I won't be disheartened if I don't lose the whole amount, as long as I'm lighter than I am now, and fitter.. that's all that matters. They're goals to strive towards, not absolutes that I'll hurt myself to achieve.

Yes, Ladies and Gents, I'm back. Still slightly sad and bummed out, but you've helped me restore my sense of determination. So once again, Thank you.


4th August 2005

Who eats only half a sandwich for lunch?

Hands up, c'mon you must be out there somewhere!

Why do i assume there must be those out there who eat half a sandwich for lunch? I *know* they're out there and I'm guessing they must be the exact same people who eat only 7 doritos and stop.

Was out on a job with hubby on Monday, and the only place we could stop for lunch was a circle K.

I read the ingredients listings on the sandwiches (you all know those triangle cut sandwiches in their cute plastic containers in the fridges) and picked for me the healthiest one available. 8 gms of fat per serve and 240 calories.

Hubby's was a little higher as his had American cheese rather than provolone on it, we both had turkey. and a small packet of baked doritos each and some fruit juice.

I was munching away happily, whilst he was checking the loading of the truck, and went to check the nutritional information again. (i think i was looking at the salt or something) and nearly fell of the chair.

Servings per packet: 2!!

2 servings for one sandwich. So that made my happy and healthy choice .. not so happy or healthy. It also ruined my plans for a steak dinner. 16gms and 480 calories for a friggen sandwich, and that's without the baked doritos and fruit juice. If i hadda known i wouldn't have got the doritos. Man i was SO pissed off. Who eats half a friggen sandwich?!

Honestly, they should be made to make the serving sizes realistic, not unrealistic so that people fall for it. or at least have the serving size, and then info for 100gms (or some other common amount) like they have to in Australia.
No wonder there's so many obese people in the world these days. I feel sorry for the ones who wouldn't have noticed and thought they WERE eating a healthy lunch. (well as healthy as you can get from circle k.)

Anyway, that's how i know there must be those who only eat half a sandwich for lunch, because food companies accept that a half a sandwich is a serving size.
Smacks of false advertising or at the least misleading advertising if you ask me.

Kada - shaking her head and muttering "half a sandwich."


21st March 2005

The best way to describe the last week is: Emotional Rollercoaster.

Monday and Tuesday i was feeling wonderful as I'm still losing weight, regularly exercising and working towards my goal of being fit and healthy enough to seriously look for work. Hubby and I had worked out a sensible budget to work towards saving for a house of our own within the next few years. The day was drawing closer when we were going to visit K for her graduation and Sis-in-law and Family for our niece's b'day.
Wednesday i went to the gynaecologist for a routine pap smear, and was very surprised to discover that i was pregnant.

There went everything i had been so ecstatic about the day before.

No trips, no getting fit and physically prepared as i could before becoming pregnant, and worst of all there went our chance to budget.

At first Hubby and i were shocked, but prepared to scramble to make it all work. Friday we went to the obstetrician and had an ultrasound, and sure enough there was definitely another being inside me. Not old enough to get a clear picture or hear a heartbeat, but definitely something was there.

Now the fear about budgeting and everything lessened as we worked to figure out ways to make this possible. We told both sets of parents with strict instructions not to tell anyone else yet. We told Sis'n'Family and K and were going to tell my brother when he was over for dinner at my parents place sometime this week. (he doesn't have his own phone on at the moment or he would have already known.)
We figured this happened for a reason and finally passed through all the negative emotions and progressed into realising that we were pregnant. Man, what a feeling that is!
Mum and Dad were also scrambling to budget a trip in for later this year.

Saturday, just 8 hrs hours after telling my parents, i started having hard cramps. Now some cramping and spotting is normal, so we held onto hopes, i took Tylenol and went to bed. By Sunday morning it was apparent that i was losing the pregnancy.

This time there was the plunge into bittersweet topsyturvyness. Sadness because we'd just scrambled to figure a way to make things work and finally got around to being a little scared still but mostly happy, relief that we could continue on with our original plan of saving and working towards good health. Bitterness because of all this we've realised that we really can't afford the trips we've been looking forward to for well over six months. Determination to find a way to move the tickets we do have to a time that we can afford to visit.
In so many ways we were sad, but the one thing we were truly thankful for is that the miscarriage happened so soon after finding out we were pregnant, not weeks from now when we were wholeheartedly involved in the pregnancy. (Ironically today we'll get the blood work back to tell us how far along the pregnancy had gone as of Friday.)

All in all both of us are emotionally exhausted after the last few days, but we definitely feel even closer to one another than we ever have before.
Our sense of determination to get out of this house and into one of our own has increased about a hundred fold. My plan to get fit and healthy has been bolstered and I'm even more bound and determined to be well before getting pregnant again.

Finally Hubby and i realised that this was probably the main reason that the timing of my pap smear occurred. If i hadn't had it then i would have had NO idea i was pregnant and we would have kept merrily plodding along. Now we have a renewed sense of purpose and won't let anything stand in our way of getting into a position where we can welcome a child into the world, without any fear of being stuck in this house and neighbourhood.

Up, down and roundabout though this week has been it's been a good learning experience, but one i certainly do not wish to go through again.


22nd oct 2004

Aftermath when coming home from a 5 day trip to visit friends.

All the anticipation of the trip, the lead up to the surprise, 5 wonderful days with beloved friends.. then home. Tuesday was OK because i had to go meet Hubby for lunch, tlak to the guys there and go do grocery shopping.
The last two days have been horrid. I've done nothing but sit at home reading the books i got on the gift card from my inlaw's and stuffing my face. Yesterday was the third day that i'd promised Hubby i'd go out and mail an important letter. I stood there and argued with myself and had to literally force myself out the door. On the way to the post office i debated internally with myself about why i was having so much trouble getting out the door. I'm not a recluse so why did i have to force myself to go to the post office?
The people walking by me were giving me funny looks and it wasn't until this morning, as i write this, that i reaised why.
Hair uncombed for two days, wearing purple tracksuit pants, a green t-shirt, no bra, a black fleecy jacket that was too small, sweating with the low grade fever i had, carrying a plastic sleeve with the documents in them, my face screwed up all funny as i debated with myself, and occasionally emitting a strangled kind of keening noise.

can anybody say "crazy lady?!"

When Hubby got home last night i spilled the story, about arguing with myself, to him. We're both glad that it took me only two days to realise i was depressed, rather than the sometimes two weeks it can take.

SO this morning i'm feeling much better, realsied i was depressed last night so could start to combat it, the fever has broken this morning which probably helped also.
I also realised it's only 5 weeks until we go to Australia, and there's SO much to be done!


3rd Sept 2004.

It’s times like these that I really don’t understand myself.
.. Or maybe for the first time i do!

I have been dreaming on and off over the past few weeks about my boyfriend from highschool, J. Along with a host of friends from my past.

I’ve woken up some mornings horrified by dreams of being married to J, or being forced to choose between Hubby and J. One point a few weeks ago I woke up, repeating emphatically to myself, “*Hubby* is my husband, *Hubby* is my husband!”

It wasn’t until this morning after a dream with even more than the usual amount of clarity than I normally have, that I realised what’s been happening. My subconscious has been answering the questions I asked myself about a month ago. “Why will I lose a few kilos and then sabotage myself? Why can’t I lose weight, even with the best motivation in the world? And finally I got to.. Why am I scared to lose weight?”

The answer is quite simple. Fear.

Easygoing me, afraid! Of what?

Many things.

Fear of not listening to that little voice in the back of my head. Fear that my friends and family may be right. Fear to admit that I’ve been lying to myself all these years. Fear of finally having to be responsible for my own emotional health.

But most of all, afraid to admit that the negative self image I’ve had ever since I was a young teenager, is NOT the true picture of myself.

The reason I don’t understand myself at the moment is WHY the hell would I willingly choose to hang on to so much emotional baggage? Especially to the detriment of my relationship with my husband! Would you believe that a few months ago I was almost to the point of believing Hubby, was having an affair. Hubby, of all people?!
All because I’m still hanging on to the doubts caused by bad relationship break ups in the past.. Nearly 10 years ago!!

These dreams have helped me realise that I’ve been putting on weight, cutting my hair really short, acting like a total bitch to Hubby on a number of occasions. In essence making myself as unattractive as I can.. All just to test the poor guy!

“J cheated on me, so that means he will” whispered the little voice in my head.

No matter how screwy I get, or how fat I get. Hubby still continues to love me. How shallow have I (and that little voice) been, assuming that love is only based on skin deep values? Hubby loves me, all of me! Fat, thin, depressed, happy, crazy, whatever.

It’s hard to wake up with the realisation that you can no longer blame the past for your actions, but it’s yourself that’s been perpetuating your own mental anguish. Yes, I found J in bed with another girl. I’d had clues before that he was cheating, but I hadn’t been strong enough to actually leave him. I had enjoyed the drama of it all. (Yes, I was a drama queen. Weren’t we all though?)
Quite patently, the little self esteem demon in the back of my head was still enjoying the drama, up until this morning.
Yes, I picked bad friends for a number of years after that breakup and they all ended badly too.
The result of those breakups was the reinforcement of my own negative self image. All these years I’d thought I was a bad friend, a loser. Good for nothing!

Why? Because it’s easy to be average. It’s easy to blame the friendships for breaking up. Instead of admitting to myself that I picked friends because it was easier to fix their problems, instead of my own.

Easy to be average and dumb myself down, to go with the flow at highschool. Rather than be strong and stand up and say “Fuck you, bitches. I’m smarter than you, and I don’t need your friendship.” (Hindsight is a wonderful thing, no?)

Easy to say “I’m no good” Rather than put in the hard work to refine the natural talents I have and actually make a real go of being an author.

Easy to blame l.a. people for being unfriendly, when it’s my own shyness and fear of rejection that’s preventing me from going out and joining a sports or book club or something to make local friends.

Easy to stuff myself to death. Instead of admitting I’m hiding behind the fat and using that as an excuse for things that have gone wrong in my life. Insane concept I know, but who said emotions and paranoias were logical!

So now that I’ve had this moment of epiphany, how do I move on from it? 10 years of bad eating habits, and at least 20 years of negative self esteem and little to no self respect is a hard thing to overcome.
Hard is something I’ve never been good at. Everything came easy as a kid. Sports, School, Friendships. I hit puberty, and all of a sudden things weren’t easy or clear cut anymore and I didn’t know how to handle it. I had a woman’s body at 12 years old. A classic hourglass figure. That does strange things to a girl’s head, let me tell you. Especially when all of her friends look like Twiggy, and the girl in question had been a gymnast up until that point.
All the sex education books in the world didn’t help with the emotional impact of maturing so early.
The only reason I bring that aspect up is so that I can adequately explain the way my subconscious has worked for the past ten years. I think deep down even though I felt fat and ugly, I knew I was pretty. Else why would my reasoning be, “well thin didn’t get me happiness, let’s see how fat goes!” That was my moment of epiphany this morning. I have been using being overweight as an excuse to not have to put in 100% to anything I do.

I’m not really fat, I’m not really lazy, I’ve just been using them as an excuse to plod through life without any responsibility for my own emotional bullshit.
“J cheated on me because I’d put on a stone.” No J cheated on me because he was a teenaged male who wasn’t emotionally ready for the things I expected of him, and the relationship wasn’t a healthy one anyway.
“Hubby wont/can’t love me because I’m fat” Hubby got to know ME as a person before ever meeting me. He was also a grounded enough person to go against his prior expectations of what the woman of his dreams would look like. Fat to him doesn’t matter. He loves the whole of ME. (I know babe, you keep saying that, it’s only taken me till today to understand what you meant. I kept adding qualifiers to that statement within my own mind)

It’s hard to wake up and realise you’ve been pretty shallow for the previous decade of your life, and yet despite all that you’ve managed to score some truly wonderful friends and an amazing husband. And that you’re family is still talking to you even after all the crap you put them through.

It’s hard to wake up and realise some of the things I was yelling at a friend to change, I was guilty of as well.

It’s gonna be hard to shed so many years of self conditioning. I guess i can only do it one step at a time.

With perseverance and patience.

Two virtues I am NOT good at! LOL

Thanks for listening. I love you all.

And yes, finally, I love.. myself.


A rant from 23rd July 2006

(This rant is not directed at anyone on this board! It's just long-held frustration that I'm finally expressing. And more importantly, ridding myself of, in order to continue getting healthy.)

Thanks for listening. And if you don't get very far into it before going elsewhere, that's fine too. LOL

Disclaimer: Please, don't take this as me trying to tell anyone else how to eat.
I'm not doing this to say sod off and don't give me advice ever again. I appreciate advice.(don't always take it, but I do appreciate it and take what works for me. As anyone should do with advice.) This is just me re-having an epiphany about MY OWN BODY AND WEIGHTLOSS!

These subjects has been weighing on my mind for some time now, and I am finally ready to confront them. Only in part is this brought about by the binge from yesterday (Saturday) Here's my diary entry for then. (The rant is not brought to you by the letters P, M and S, even though the binge was. I've been thinking about it, and what's actually bugging me about the whole problem, for awhile now.. I felt good writing this. Catharsis is a wonderful thing, :D)

Yes I have read, re-read, and revised this and am happy with it. I even take my own advice sometimes. :P

Wasn't that good today,(Saturday) but I've learned through this last twelve months of watching what I eat, that if when PMS-ey I don't give into the cravings, I have multiple days of binge-eating, rather than just the one.
(not telling anyone else to do this, only saying what works for myself)
I eat whatever my body wants on that initial craving day (with some ways to mitigate the fat if I can) and then go back to healthy eating the next day.

My food diary has shown a clear pattern; I binge properly on the one day, I'm fine. If i try and cheat on the binge.. i end up binging for at least four days, on low fat stuff, until the bod gives in to the initial high fat binge. Silly, and self-defeating. So, I go with the initial one, and I'm done! :D

That's only one way in which coming here and putting my food diary up, and being easily able to go back through it, even if I lose the bits of paper, has helped!


My mum will even back me up on this. That first time I joined TOWN (Aussie version of TOPS) I would give into one day of cravings with PMS, whether it be fish and chips, a whole packet of timt tams, or whatever. But still add them into my calorie counts.. it's not a cheat, believe you me. I'd own up to everything I ate. (and subsequently got in BIG trouble from the leader.. in front of everyone, for being honest about how I'd lost the two kilos/4.5lbs that WEEK -- whilst PMS-ing.)
I'll still exercise like usual, but LISTEN to my body.
Same thing happened back on HWF, someone expressed 'concern' about how much I was eating.. when I'd lost over 16 lbs in two months DESPITE HAVING STRAINED MY GROIN.. and once again, I listened to them. Got angry, and told them to get stuffed, I'd listen to my own body and successful weight loss.. but in reality their words sunk in, and I didn't trust myself, again. {sigh} Look where I ended up by trying to do it 'right', frustrated, hungry, and then off the wagon completely.

Those women's comments tore down all my confidence, so I stopped listening to my bod, and even the times I've listened again, their words have come back to haunt me. NO MORE! I AM listening to MY body from now on.

Screw anyone who tries to tell me how my body works. >:( They don't live in it, *I* do!

As I remember saying in the past to the woman on HWF: “Do me the courtesy of knowing how my own body works.”

Others may be horrified, jealous, concerned or whatever about the high calories and fat I have some days, but they're usually for a good reason. Reasons that matter only to me and my body.
I freely confess when I'm binging for no good reason, and get back on track when I can, but I also admit when I'm binging for a reason. depression, or PMS, or healing a wound.
I do you the courtesy of supporting you in the ways you choose to lose weight, I don't say you should do this that or the other. We're all doing what works for ourselves, in the ways that work for our own bodies.

Here are some thoughts that have been going through my head this last week or two: Feel free to ignore any and all as you wish. They're just my opinions after all, and things that I'm trying to understand and do.

Think. Take the time to read over a post or email. Even keep it overnight saved as a draft, or a .doc file, before sending. Most importantly, think about how you'd feel if you received the email you're about to send. Just because we have instant communication, doesn't mean we should use it. Same goes with conversing face-to-face with someone. Think about what you say, before you say it. Words cannot be unsaid, text cannot be unwritten. Posts may be edited, but what if someone's already read and saved what you initially said? These boards are public, what if someone you know, now or in the future is able to attribute those words to the REAL you. Just take the time to think.

Support. Is what we're here for. To give AND receive.

Nourishment. Of our confidence, our souls and our bodies is necessary for a healthy life.

Understanding. Not only of ourselves, but of others is the key to support. The key to many things.

Communication. Talk, but also listen. Make sure what you say is clear and concise. If in doubt, explain why you're saying what you're saying. Respect and accept that others may never understand what you're trying to say.

Trust. Your gut instincts, yourself, your body. Trust you to know what you need. Trust yourself to ask for help when you need it. Trust those that care for you to give what you need. Trust that you can ask for clarification if you feel it is necessary.

Empathise. Put yourself in someone else's shoes. We all have equally valid reasons, emotions, and concerns. Just because someone or something is different, does not make you any more or less correct.

We're all people, not just nameless, faceless pixels on a screen.
Love and respect yourselves.. but also respect the other person on the end of the communication.

Kada - pleased to re-discover her own sense of confidence and belief in self.


18th May 2006. More on working through my shit!

Again with keeping it as was written.


Well, a lot of the stuff she does talk about in the first half of the book is sexual abuse. . . but not just the physical kind. There's the mental kind, the invisible kind, and the unintentional kind.

Pretty powerful stuff when you realise that one of the main reasons you're fat is because you're afraid of attention from men... unsolicited attention. And it's all been brought about by early puberty and being well endowed, fit, muscular and curvy with long, glorious hair at the age of 14 or so but despite this physical deliciousness being mentally not ready to deal with the complimentary, and well intentioned not sleazy, remarks or wolf whistles that males will invariably offer in response to such a creature. Not only this but feeling betrayed by your body's blossoming in that you were suddenly too 'fat' to be a gymnast anymore.


And yet another powerful thing to realise that yes you do resent your husband for making you realise that you can't afford a dog even though you desperately want one, and despite this resentment you continue being a team player, because adults do the rational thing, and go along with it and don't mention how horribly lonely you are and that a dog would help matters greatly. Even more powerful to realise that what you're feeling is perfectly normal, but you've been bought up not to express it.

Or that you're extremely angry with yourself for becoming a little scaredy cat who hides in the house every day rather than being the strong adventurous woman you know you really are and going out and about.

Or that you desperately want kids, but are petrified of doing it without friends or family around like you'd assumed you'd have when you grew up and got married. So you keep yourself extremely fat so that 'gosh darn it we can't have kids yet' and don't have to confront your fear.

Or that you didn't really realise the extent to which you were denying the affect your last two jobs have had on your self confidence and work confidence.

or how guilty you're feeling about living your dream job as an author when you feel you should be out with a 'real' job because your mum and Nan always worked away from home. And how much you resent feeling that way when writing is a real job, and bloody long hours of hard work.

What bought all these realisations on?
Reading the book.
Despite her talking a lot about sexual kinds of abuse, the one thing she's always asking you to think about, and then helps you with how to work through is WHY ARE YOU EATING THE WAY YOU DO?



I remember stuffing a bowl of noodles in my tummy today that I didn't really want. Upon analysing it, it was because I realised that I was scared to be progressing so well on my stories lately and I was afraid I might actually be good at it, so I ran away and hid. And I've lost a lb and a half since sunday.. ooh scary!

She also explains about plateaus in one vividly moving section. Why do we plateau? Because we feel safe at that particular weight. We can't visualise ourselves lower than that weight and so, will always fall short of going below it.

This book is worth buying. Make sure you read the whole thing through though. Some bits that I thought wouldn't have applied to me, but I still learned things from them about myself and the way I interact with myself and others.

I called my husband in tears about the dog we don't have. It felt so good to finally tell him that I resent him because of it and how lonely i actually am. I didn't tell him in a blaming way, but in a cathartic way, so that now it's out in the open we can talk about it some more, and if we really truly can't afford a dog, we can at least look toward ways of minimising my loneliness and building up my confidence.

Another reason I give up the exercise after a few weeks, that I've come to realise since I've been reading this book, is not only the pregnancy issue, but also that i feel like what's the point? Nobody really cares if i exercise or not, hubby's at work all day. Nobody's interested in my schedule.
nuh-uh, I'd forgotten that when I was doing so well, I'd call hubby every day (and write here) as soon as I did it and get encouragement, congrats and positive feedback.. then I started to think I was being a nuisance, and stopped doing it. He actually enjoyed it, made him feel like he was part of my day, but didn't say anything when I stopped because he thought I'd think he was nagging. Buggah. LOL (and I felt like I was taking up too much of people's time here by making them think they had to respond to my exercise schedule posts. Which I shouldn't feel because that's the whole point of being here, people will support you only if THEY want to, can't make them do jackshit!)

So, yeah, I've found this book very helpful, and will continue to do so for some time now. I've got a Louise Hay workbook that I've had for years but never got around to using it. looks like now that i know what the fears and tensions are, i can now use it, and this book, to help work through them.


A little something from 28th April 2006

This was something I posted on the weight loss support forum I'm a member of. (keeping it the same, errors and all, since it was a freeform monologue.)


Yesterday I was at a book shop, ostensibly to do some writing, but I've since come to realise I was there for a very different reason.

After writing for awhile I got fed up with feeling cramped at the little table available in the cafe and wanting to see if some books were on the shelves yet from my favourite authors I went for a browse.
First the Science Fiction section, then the Writing section to look for some books on helping with world building, but ended up picking up a book about having the courage to write. At that point I just disengaged my brain and decided to wander through the bookshop and see where it would lead me. Looked for a dream journal, but they were too expensive, looked at pre-pregnancy eating for good health -- no such book to be found.

Wandered on through a couple more different sections and then I ended up in the selfhelp section. I normally avoid this section like the plague since I find there's SO much to look at and so many conflicting theories that i just edge away. And as far as I know my life is healthy and well-balanced, except for the overeating, and every book I've come across on that subject so far deals with binge eating which is something i don't really do. At least not to the degree they're dealing with in all the books I'd found to date. I'd never found a book that dealt with what I knew to be my problem: emotional overeating.

That is, until yesterday.

The title is "Losing Your Pounds Of Pain" and it's written by Doreen Virtue.

This book explains the link between past or present pain, abuse, stress, whatever that you've never dealt with and how overeating is an attempt to sublimate the pain in food.
At first I was hesitant to buy the book because I thought it would be about recovering from sexual,drug or childhood abuse. But, the more I flicked through it, the more I realised that not all she talks about are examples of that, but also emotional abuse or neglect. Some of the cases she talks about dealing with neglect or emotional abuse from parents or spouses, i came to realise i had experienced from my so called friends. And to make matters worse had then spent many years reinforcing with myself.

I began to realise that I HAD suffered abuse. Emotional abuse, not from my parents, but from friends at school and the first serious boyfriend I'd ever had, plus friendship breakups as an adult.
This pain I thought I had dealt with, but no, i have not. At least, not fully anyway.
Until now I had lanced the wounds enough to allow happiness and loving relationships to occur, I'd learned from the lessons i was taught, but I've never really sat down and dealt with my own feelings of betrayal and anger resulting from those relationships. I got some therapy when dealing with my ex and dealt with a lot of the issues of that bad breakup, but i never dealt with my own feelings of worthlessness stemming from so many relationship failures, both sexual and platonic. Never dealt with my fear of not being good enough. My fear that if I lost weight and got "sexy" that if my husband left me it would have to be my fault. My ex left when I was fit and healthy and I still hadn't been good enough, so my husband and friends will have to love me "as I am" else they won't really love me.

So much hate and pain and fear that Ive been holding onto that I'm making my body ill with it.

I'm only up to chapter four, but I can already feel long ignored bits of me standing up and saying Woohoo! we're FINALLY gonna deal with this properly.

I'm really looking forward to finally relieving myself of the baggage, and then the excess poundage caused by that negativity I've been lugging around.

The reason I'm sharing this revelation is that I hoping someone else will find it as useful and as enlightening (pun intended) as I am.