not. another...DIET...!

I just can't.

Do. One.

MORE.

DIET.

Nope.

Not gonna happen.

Because I already I cleaned out the fridge. Stocked up the veg and fruits. Planned the workouts. Tossed out the refined sugar and bread.

I had a high protein breakfast and vegetable beef soup (homemade) for lunch. I drank tea, coffee, water.

And then hour 28 struck.

I was at work and slowly but surely began hating all sorts of things about life. I lamented on how much I hated my job, and the need to get my hair cut (but feeling too fat to sit in the chair, not wanting to pretend enough to be presentable and make pleasant conversation with people who I swore would be judging my fatness). There was overwhelming disgust with my stagnant creativity and yes, the ever famous "it's not fair" track was bleating along as the anger was brewing.

That was when I thought of pizza.

And I did absolutely nothing to fight it off.

At hour 33, I conceded. Pizza won.

A tropical Luau. Without the leis, grass skirts or full on hula dancing. No burning tiki torches.

Just me on a couch, cramming soft crust down my gullet to self medicate the best way I know how.

Sigh.

There was only a tinge of guilt. I knew I hadn't "blown it" and was still within my daily calorie range (it was a leaner Luau). I had worked through enough Geneen Roth to know the real dangers in thinking of foods in terms of "forbidden".

But that moment there of cleaning out the fridge and “being good” has been done over and over and over and over in my life.

That has been my reality of being obese and not wanting to be obese.

I get the feeling that too many skinny people boil weight loss down to math. Calories in and calories out. Sigh. I've done the equations and know the calorie target. I even have an app on the phone that does the math for me when I fill in my daily food in the tracker (and yes, I am honest about what I eat). But these people don't understand the emotional part of eating and being this way. How does one become obese? For most of us (who don't have cushing's syndrome or some other very real metabolic issue), it was one pound at a time. One unhealthy, but maybe comforting choice at a time. So, newsflash to those judgy people who give the stink eye to me at dunkin donuts (when I'm getting coffee, as if I need to justify anything to anyone) I don't want to be obese. I know the math equations. I know what to do and how to do it. These 100 pounds go beyond will power. There is much more going on that keeps me obese.

Stress.

A job I hate right now.

A sense of injustice in the country I just can't shake right now.

A feeling of inadequacy.

Fear and probably even loathing.

I cleaned out my closet today. Literally.

I found size 8 pants Hidden in the back.

Those pants were so small.

I used to fit in those (and think I was fat).

Size 8.

Sigh and wince.

There is a pang in my chest at that.

I wonder if people who knew me when I was a size 8 look at me and think, "Wow. She really let herself go. How did she get so fat?"

I wonder the same thing sometimes.

It certainly wasn't my objective or life goal. It happened. I can blame predinose and vasculitis and cushings. They all played their part. Being a spoonie and immobile for a time played its part. Muscle atrophy. Yeah, sigh. But I know those are excuses.

Here I am. Obese.

So what am I going to do about it?

Wallow and cry? Play the same old blame tapes on repeat?

Nope.

Self sabotage doesn't work. Diets don’t work. Unrealistic ideals don’t work.

I'm going to do this one different.

It's time to find the compassion and self worth. I deserve to be kind to myself.

It's time for acceptance.

So, I'm choosing ONE thing to change a week. My first week (this week) is to drink more water. Next week will be to eat more vegetables and fruit. Maybe the third week will be to add green tea. I’m going to go slow and take it one moment at a time, one behavior at a time and see where I am.

What do I have to lose, other than maybe a hundred pounds?