Hello all! So today I realized something about the whole ‘struggling with Weight Watchers‘ thing. Maybe I’m a little slow on the uptake and I should have realized this a while back. But here it is. I’ve been doing this for more than two years. I have been going to meetings. Every Tuesday. For two years. I haven’t skipped a weigh-in unless I was out of town. In two years. The first year, I had wild success. Crazy wild. Lost like 80 lbs. Second year, mild success- lost about half that. But for the last few months, I have basically just been maintaining my weight, gaining and losing within the same 5 lb. range. And for much of the time I’ve been on this journey, but especially in the last several months, I notice that every time I weigh in, my day (and perhaps even the rest of my week) is shaped by what happens at the scale. If I have a loss, everything is good and I am in control and life is fabulous. If I have a gain, everything is horrible, I am out of control, can’t handle any part of my life, and my entire existence is just plain awful. HELLO?! What is wrong with this picture?
Because I have been doing this for so long, (and because the success I have had at WW has been the main thing I have felt successful at in the last two years) I seem to have let my entire self-worth as a human being, my entire perception of what makes me good or bad, become wrapped up in what number pops up on the scale on Tuesday mornings! Sure, I have enjoyed seeing the clothing sizes drop, enjoyed being given hand-me-downs from people I always think of as much smaller than me and being able to fit into them, enjoyed shopping for clothes, finding things off the rack, and looking darn good in them, enjoyed being able to accomplish certain physical feats like my 2 (count them – two!) 5k mud runs. But for some reason I cannot fathom, I keep going back to judging myself by weight loss or gain alone and using those numbers as medieval weapons like spikes and cudgels to beat myself to a pulp with! Why?!
I don’t really have an answer to that last question, but maybe
the discovery of that fact is a step toward ending the pattern. I need to keep in mind all the different aspects of the things I have accomplished and resist the urge to reduce them to cold numbers that don’t really show the whole picture. Just this moment, I realized also that I use my food choices as weapons to beat myself down with, too. As in when I eat healthy foods, (or eat any food in an appropriate amount!) I’m acceptable as a human being, but when I eat unhealthy foods or over-partake of any food, I am a spineless slacker who has no control or self-discipline. Is that true of me? Of course not. I have clearly demonstrated some amount of control during the last two years to have lost over one hundred and twenty pounds. I have clearly demonstrated some measure of strength to get up at 5:00 a.m. for months on end and go to exercise classes, and to compete in two strenuous athletic competitions like the Dirty 30 and the Fitness Freak Race . So what is it about food that presents such a big stinkin’ challenge?
Unfortunately, I have no answer for that one either. All I know is, I have to figure out how on God’s green earth, to LOVE myself, to appreciate and value and embrace myself, in all my flawed glory, no matter what I weigh. And this too is true: “We ain’t what we should be. We ain’t what we gonna be. But at least, we ain’t what we WAS!”
Until next time,