High Class Problems

Seems like the last few times I've posted here I've been pretty down in the dumps. My weight gain has definitely contributed to that. And, I've been dealing with a lot of stress in my professional life. It's a classic case of great company, great people, but not the right job for me. In my line of work it's a very small world, so very few people knew that I was considering a change. The short story is I've been on an active job hunt for a few months which recently resulted in four job offers. Crazy, huh? I'm not complaining, but damn. It was stressful. Really stressful. Cold-sores-on-my-lip stressful. And I haven't had a cold sore since college!

The end result is that on July 23 I am starting a new job with an incredible, amazing company. I am not exaggerating when I say that virtually nobody leaves this place once they are hired -- and that's by choice, not by force! The benefits are insane, the work is exactly what I want to be doing, and I cannot wait to start. I feel very hopeful that this will finally be the "fit" that I have been looking for in my career.

But what I am most excited about is the THREE WEEKS OF TIME OFF that I'll be taking before my new career adventure begins. I'm dedicating that entire time to getting myself back in balance. It starts with sleep. Restful, relaxing sleep, which I have not had in ages. I'm booking at least three massages, and I am going to attempt to do some daily meditation, too. My most important goal is to get back to an exercise routine. I have absolutely no excuses. And you know what? I'm really tired of making excuses. It feels icky and demeaning, and besides all that, I deserve better than what I'm currently doing for myself. (Someone remind me to come back here and read this when I'm debating between going to the gym or lying in bed for another hour!)

I'm also going to be working on one of the many renovation projects that we have planned for our house. It's a 1927 arts and crafts bungalow that suffered a horrible 1960s "update" back in the day. When we moved in, this poor house was suffocating in dark wood paneling and shag carpeting. We're giving the master bedroom and bathroom an overhaul. New wood laminate flooring. New paint job. New light fixtures. I can't wait. A lighter, relaxing bedroom is going to improve my mood and sleep habits immensely... not to mention a few other bedroom activities!

And, as far as my weight goes. It hasn't really changed. I haven't lost anything, but I haven't expected to, given that fact that I'm still not working out. But at least I haven't gained. That's something.

What I've really trying to be aware of through all this craziness is that I have a pretty damn good life. When I start to get depressed or really start beating myself up, I am trying to. Just. Stop. And think of something I am grateful for. And then something else. And then one more thing.

This week I got a big slap-in-the-face reminder of how relatively minor my problems are. I went with my dear friend and her husband to the hospital. He was diagnosed with a brain tumor a year ago, and was going in for his monthly MRI . A curious little spot showed up, and they aren't sure what it is. Better to be safe than sorry. He goes in for a second brain surgery on Monday --exactly one year to the day of his first surgery. And while this past year has to have been hell on earth for my friends and their little boy, they have not once lost their ability to recognize the good, be grateful, and live in the moment.

I guess what I'm getting at is this: I think it's less difficult to overcome life's challenges -- obesity or a career change or even a brain tumor -- when we stop to recognize all the stuff that's going right in our own little worlds. And, it feels a whole hell of a lot better than obsessing about the stuff that's wrong.

Feelings... Whoa, whoa, whoa, feelings...

What a week. My grandmother passed away last weekend and I flew to Wyoming early on Monday. On top of traveling and the funeral I was in the middle of work for a big client deadline, so most of my travel hours were spent on my laptop, frantically working on this big project. It was a long, emotional week and I am still feeling pretty wiped out.

I did not make great eating choices while I was gone. I am, truly, the poster child of emotional eating. Even my sister, who only sees me once or twice a year, recognizes this behavior in me. The first night at my mom's house I stayed up until 1 a.m. finishing work stuff and simultaneously wiped out about half a box of G1rlscout cookies. And it just got uglier over the course of the next two days: patty melt, macaroni salad, oatmeal cake with toasted coconut frosting, even chicken fried steak! Good god. Somebody put a muzzle on me.

And you know, this is something I have to stop... not just the emotional eating but the subsequent self-degradation that plays like a looped recording in my head. Intellectually I know that the less kind I am to myself and my body, the harder it is to get back on track. But isn't it a bitch to find something nice to say about yourself when you feel like a total loser? When I'm really desperate I usually have to stand in front of a mirror and maneuver my shoulders into a rather awkward position that reveals my collarbones. I do believe I have decent collarbones. Hey, it's something!

Another major factor in this scenario is a recent medical issue I've been dealing with. I have a thyroid disorder called Hashimoto's disease. I know, it sounds like such a stereotypical fat-person excuse, but believe me I do not blame my thyroid for the thousands of calories I have shoved down my cakehole recently. (Hashimoto's is often hereditary; I was diagnosed when I was 25, and my mom and one of my sisters also have it.) The short story is that my medication was on backorder from the manufacturer and my now-former endocrinologist was completely unresponsive to my requests and the pharmacy's requests for a substitute prescription. I ended up being off medication for more than three weeks while this ridiculous situation played itself out. My primary doctor is now handling my thyroid monitoring and medication, but after six weeks I am still not quite back on track. A normal TSH (thyroid stimulating hormone) level is usually somewhere between 2 and 5. Mine is currently at 17, but was at a whopping 95 when I finally got back on the meds. Needless to say, I've been a walking zombie for several weeks. And, around 10 of the 20 pounds I've gained showed up in the month of April. Based on prior experience, it will take me twice as long to lose them. Good Times.

I'm tired, depressed, and being a big whiner. I need some inspiration, and I'll bet I'm not the only one. So, I'll throw this double-whammy out to the Internet and see what comes back.

1. When you're feeling really crappy about yourself, what do you do to turn your thinking around?

2. (For the emotional eaters out there.) At that critical moment in time, when your emotions are on overload and you are about to consume ridiculous amounts of food, how do you stop yourself?

P.S. One success to note -- I have managed to stay away from the evil vending machine at work!

Somebody turn off my brain

Thinking about all the things I need to do to get back on track is a suprisingly effective way to actually avoid taking action. (Gee, that sounds a lot like procrastination. Something I know absolutely nothing about.) Last week, after posting here for the first time in eons (and finding that there were still a few of you holding out hope that I might someday return! Hooray!) I found myself at least having some awareness of the choices I was making. Which led me to the aforementioned thinking, and thinking some more, and having thoughts, and pondering and wondering and analyzing, and... okay you get the picture. As you might have guessed, I did not take a lot of action toward getting back on track last week.

I was getting acquainted with Luna Bella's blog this weekend. She's just starting this crazy convince-yourself-you-hate-butter-and-chocolate-and-get-healthy journey. She seems really good at setting small goals to meet each week, versus trying to do everything. All at once. Perfectly. Or find yourself (that would be me) battling the urge to dive headfirst into a vat of chocolate and start again tomorrow.

So, I'm going to attempt to let go of my idealistic tendencies for a week and just try to be reasonably successful at meeting one or two basic goals. For the official Internet record, those goals would be to drink enough water (at least 64 ounces) each day and completely eliminate any trips to the newly-installed vending machine. It hasn't become a habit yet, but it wouldn't be hard to make it a daily pilgrimage.

Finally, thanks to those of you who are still checking in here on occasion and who left such encouraging comments. It really does help to know we're all in this together, and that there is no shame in falling down and getting back up again. On that note, I'm raising my water bottle to all of us with our skinned-up knees and undying hope and determination to have healthy bodies -- and great asses!

Hello? Is this thing on?

Well. This is kind of embarrasing. I am doubtful that anyone even comes around this here joint anymore, given that I've blogged about twice in the past 12 months. Yikes.

As usual, it took public humiliation to get me to move my ass and actually write this post. It came in the form of a recent on-air call to WKTI last week, the same radio station that followed my weight loss efforts two years ago, and the catalyst of this whole blogging adventure. (To be clear, no one at the station humiliated me, I just do that naturally, on my own. It's a gift.)

Because I had also gone incommunicado with my WKTI friends, they had lots of questions about how I was doing, which included specific inquiries about my weight loss and my blog. Let's just say that my answers did not generate applause or admiration. There I sat, in my living room at 6:45 a.m., in my flannel pajama bottoms and big t-shirt, trying to find the least humiliating way to tell thousands of listeners that I have not continued to lose -- in fact have gained weight since the wedding -- and that I've been too embarrased and ashamed to write about it, let alone talk about it on the radio. So, drowning in an ocean of humiliation, I frantically reached for a life preserver of dignity and made a public promise to start blogging again.

And waddya know. Here I am.

So, the cold hard facts. I have gained back 20 of the 51 pounds I lost. I have also lost the desire and motivation to continue on this "journey." But I want desperately to get it back. And maybe this blogging thing will help me get there. Because the more the scale creeps up, the more disgusted I feel about myself and my body. Yet there's a tiny little voice inside me that flat out refuses to go back to the person I used to be: unhealthy, unhappy, and in denial about what I was doing to my body, my mind and my spirit.

I also realize I really have to stop worrying so damn much about what other people think. Already I am having this ridiculous internal dialogue in my head about, on the off-chance anyone is still checking in here, I am going to have to update at least weekly or I will be letting someone down and they will see what a total loser I am. Can you say neurotic?

I am making no promises about how often or how much I will blog here; only that I won't let a month - or six months - go by without checking in, if for no other reason than to be accountable to myself. Because in the end, what I think about me is really all that matters.

So. On that note. Hi, Internet! I'm back.

What's been taking up my time the past six months...

Officially hitched September 8, 2006. A perfect day!