I am NOT my weight

I started this post then tossed it then started it again. Each time I got started it seemed like I was complaining, a pity party for myself. I might have things to be pitiful about but the subject of this post is not one of them. I know for certain that I am not the only woman to go through this and the bazillions of emotions that go with it.

Diet!  

As a whole we are never more aware of our weight then we are around the holidays. Every December 31st, at the stroke of midnight, millions of us vow to "lose weight" and just as soon as we work off the champagne hangover we set off into the world resolved to get fit and trim. I cannot tell you how many times I've done this myself. You saw in my last post where I mentioned that I had lost 200 pounds at one point in my life. So clearly I am an "expert" at weight loss. But just like millions of others, the first speed bump that happens I fall into old habits and drown my sorrows with such culinary delights as dark chocolate M&Ms, buttered noodles, soft-n-chewy chocolate chip cookies.... you know what I mean, right? The lie I have told myself is that it wasn't a lot of what I ate so I should be good. Or I re-commit to start again "tomorrow". Now that my mobility is severely limited I got pretty good at continuing to lie to myself that I wasn't eating a lot of food but "just the wrong food" and in part that is true.If I'm in a wheelchair I will inevitably eat more then I work off. Then because of the massive guilt trip I inflict myself with I become depressed. Who hasn't decided that the cure for depression is a quart of ice cream or raw cookie dough? The vicious cycle begins again until the next year when we are even more serious about dieting this time. We enroll in a gym membership, toss everything out of the fridge and cupboards and restock them all with salad greens, sticks of carrots and heads of broccoli and cauliflower. We drink more water, park farther out in the parking lot and take the stairs at work. We celebrate the first 10 pounds gone with good food and friends and say things like "Oh! I almost forgot what this tasted like...this is soooo good!" The inner dialogue is "I will work twice as hard at the gym tomorrow--I'm good" We get tired, overworked, too stressed, and we start the whole thing over again---sound familiar? We secretly pray to God to help us be strong this time. That whole keep from temptation bit. And he obliges....in the form of a tight fitting dress, jeans that fit 3 months ago but now you can't get them over your knees, aching joints, back pain, foot pain or 3 little numbers on the scale......... when it happens I call it a "come to Jesus moment"!

Yesterday I had another Dr. appointment. This time it was with the head of pharmacy to basically see what pills I take, do I know what they are, how they are supposed to work, what I should not take with the pills. Reluctantly I kept the appointment. Truth be told I am not taking enough pills or even close diminished enough in mental capacity that I would need such a review, but medicare says go, so I go. Turns out though that this appointment was way more than just a pill count. I got on a scale and was absolutely devastated with the numbers I saw. I'll just say, while it's not the heaviest I've ever been, it's more than I have weighed in at least 7 years. I felt so defeated. So disappointed in myself and damned pissed off that I lied so well and for so long that I had come to this point in my life. I know you know this feeling---you just wanna shrivel up and hide under a rock. A little like the Elephant Man.
                                  
I watched RuPaul's Drag Race last night....there is a lady-boy who goes by the name  "Latrice Royale". A big, bold, in your face queen who is unafraid of her curves, and gurl! She's got curves! As I watch her I am very aware that she, of all the queens, has the hardest road ahead. She's black, fat and a drag queen, yet there she is struttin her stuff, loud, proud and in charge! Her style and her energy made me realize that I am not defined by my age or my weight. I deserve to be happy. I deserve to be alive. I deserve to be healthy.

                                               
So dear readers, I invite you to take this amazing journey with me. During my appointment yesterday I received some really great advice. Celebrate the little things. Instead of a goal of 50 pounds, try just 5 and celebrate those 5 then go for 10 and celebrate those 10. That makes it much easier and the perfect recipe for success.  I have recently discovered that when we are on the same side of the road, when we are laughing and crying and angsting together that the journey ceases to become an obligation and instead becomes the next block in the friendship quilt!