Yep, it’s that time again. I seem to fluctuate between miserable numbness about it and depressed anxiety that the scale number keeps creeping up. I tried to address it this summer, only to be miserable because I truly just don’t like meat protein THAT much.
Then we had the shock-and-awe of the student loan situation combined with my honey’s job situation and I packed up that notion of pursuing something added more stress.
But really, I’m blogging today about my realizations over the past few weeks about my relationship to food and my weight.
I love to bake and find it soothing, satisfying.
I hate routine cooking, especially when dealing with picky children, one which is underweight and won’t eat, while the other is heading to overweight (due to being sedentary) and will eat – but only things that are crummy.
And I’m dealing with my weight issue, just to add stress.
On one hand I have come to hate food and shopping. On the other, the foods that I do seem to find cravings for appear to be supporting me emotionally. How sad is that? Need to feel loved? Eat something. Need to feel appreciated or happy? Eat something.
Stressed… Yeah, we can see where this is going.
I understand it. I can view it from the standpoint of logic, even poke at it a bit with my rationality and understand that it isn’t healthy. I can tell myself that I’ve overcome this before and partly remember what that success felt like, but it doesn’t change the inertia I have developed – whether mental or physical.
I had a panic attack last night, with this wiggling, crawling sensation in my chest. It hurt and it was hard to breathe. I sat, huddled under the covers, trying to breathe normally and just let it happen so it would pass. I realized that changes have to happen. The question is how do I make the changes? Or maybe, how do I get the changes started and maintain the energy to keep it going, when so many things demand my attention and energy?
I don’t want to eat because it involves all of this ridiculous focus on quality, quantity… do this… don’t do that. And there is the hunger, all out of whack with what I think my body really needs. I battled it this summer and then I battled the nausea that came from having to look at one more piece of chicken, or fish, or fat-free cheese (which is just nasty under any circumstances).
I’d like to eat tiny little meals that are flavorful and simple – but the hunger takes over.
I’d like to eat vegetables constantly, but I look at them now and resent them.
I want to throw the broccoli against the wall – stomp on the spinach – run the carrots through the garbage disposal. They just piss me off now.
Yeah. I’ve got a few issues to resolve right now. Well. At least I let it out and expressed it finally. Sometimes lancing a wound is the only way to get it to heal. I’m betting that this will be the first of several rounds.