27 July 2007


I struggle with my weight. That's the short and simple version. The long version involves things like being hypothyroid, reactive hypoglycemia, PCOS, some level of insulin resistance, family history of diabetes, depression, hot flashes, motherhood, stress, marriage, time, and currently, an oven door that's broken and thus rendering the oven unusable.

Together what I have to do to lose the extra 50lbs I'm carrying around is eat 5-6 small meals a day, mixing protein with whole grains to help the breakdown/digestion of the complex carbohydrates. Then I need to exercise a hell of a lot, but not beat myself over the head when a week has gone by and I haven't made it to the gym because I've had a kid with a stomach bug and can't leave her in the child care room at the Y. And it's been hot out and I seriously don't handle the heat well and so there goes walking outside and we went to the mall(s) way too much last week to escape the heat and get some walking in, and my credit card can't handle anymore of that. I also need to learn to not eat my emotions and find some other way to channel my frustration and depression instead of by filling my stomach with various forms of chocolate.

Easy-peasy, right? Ha. It's hard when my head knows exactly what I need to do, but my body doesn't feel like playing along. This is where the struggle comes in. I'm real good at the self inflicted guilt, and nothing drives me to the chocolate ice cream like realizing I'm growing out of my fat clothes. Doesn't help that on paper you'd think I'm hugely obese, but I just look pudgy in person so people like my doctors are shocked that I can hide that much weight on a 5'3" frame.

The good things about my mother-in-law coming to visit is that I will be fiercely good about my diet around her. I don't want to be judged for being fat and eating badly, so I'm going to be the uber-annoying daughter-in-law who insists on cooking since my mother-in-law wouldn't know a whole grain if it slapped her in the face. What I'm worried about is the fact that I'm excited to escape while she's here, go off by myself to read or sit or just be. Alone. I'm worried that during those times I'm going to breakdown and get the chocolate chip cheesecake at the coffee shop, or take myself out to lunch and get french fries with my sandwich instead of asking to substitue them for a salad or fruit like I know I should.

I've got to get a grip, I just wish that was easier done than said.

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