She said it

Apparently although I'm fat, I'm not as fat as I thought I was because according to the scale at the doc's office, I'm ten pounds lighter (thinner!) than last time I was there. Ten pounds. Of course, I had been down more than that but I'm still down.
Did she say it? "You could lose some weight." Why, yes, she did!
Why she even asked if I'd read South Beach Diet book. She offered that she eats that way. Of course she does. She weighs ounces. Not tons. And she's probably eaten that way her whole life....because she likes to. I don't like to. I don't want to. And that's final.
Awaiting the results of routine blood tests. If, if, if, something is wrong (like pre-diabetes or something), then I'll consider getting back on the roller coaster. But if not, then shut up!

You've done this before if you're fat: Cannot make a doctor's appointment until I have lost weight. If you're not fat, you won't understand. You know the doctor is going to say something to you about your weight even if you're perfectly healthy. She's going to say, "It would be great if you could lose some weight."
Uh, yeah, it would be great. Like doesn't she think you want to! Does she think you want to walk around with your thighs rubbing together or the button on your pants popping open when you sit down? Does she think you like to get undressed at night and see deep indentations from waistbands because your pants are too tight??? I mean, let's be realistic. It would be nice. It would be lovely, in fact. It would make my life complete.
The reason I bring this up is that I have an appointment for a physical examination next week. I'd call it a "yearly" physical except it's been more than one year or even maybe two since I've gone. Why? Because I was "waiting" to lose weight. Waiting because I didn't want to hear the speech. Finally I decided to bite the bullet and allow her to humiliate, shame and otherwise insult me so I'm going.
We all know that the exam starts with the public weighing. The scale is not hidden away in the doc's office. Nope. It's out in the hallway so that when the nurse swings over that extra little marker, the whole world hears it. You know, the one that tells everyone that you're over 150 pounds or 200 pounds. Of course I close my eyes and insist that she not say the weight out loud. But the humiliation begins as soon as I get on the scale. Too bad holding your breath doesn't make the number any less. Wearing light clothing, taking off my shoes, getting a haircut. None of that is going to make a bit of difference.
So, in the next few days: Can I lose five pounds? Should I even try? Will the doctor be thrilled if I weigh five pounds less? Will she know what a valiant effort I have put in during the last week? Month? Year? Life? Or will she tsk tsk and ask me if I've been trying?

In your face training

Was just watching Today Show. The woman who was eliminated last week from Biggest Loser was on. Shellay. One of the mothers. She looks great, of course. Really great. New hairdo. New glasses. New clothes. New body. I'm impressed. I don't know why but I never expect them to look as good as they do. I always think their skin will be hanging off their bodies. Their faces will appear gaunt. But they don't look that way. Now maybe she was wearing some iron girdle, although it didn't look like she was. And her arms were covered so maybe her triceps are flapping in the wind like bird wings. I don't know. And it is TV. And she was wearing lots of make up no doubt. But I gotta say, she looked pretty good. Way to go, Shellay!
So she was on with Jillian, her trainer from the show. Jillian, the in your face trainer. The screamer. The intimidator. Apparently that worked well for Shellay. It surely wouldn't work well for me. I grew up with a master intimidator--my father. I learned to sneer back. To smile when his blood started to boil. To turn and walk away when he was at his most frightening. So when someone gets that way with me, I laugh and walk away. I mean, if I didn't cower when my 6'3'' father who weighed 250 pounds and had hands so big that he had to have his gloves for his policeman's uniform custom made...if I didn't cower when he lost it with me, I'm surely not going to respond favorably to anyone else's rantings and ravings.
Shout in my face, if you wish. I'll laugh in yours. Call me names. I'll use the "f" word and walk away. The scary angry stuff people might say actually makes me feel almost calm. It brings me back to childhood and to my father. I remember that I lived through it...a bit scathed perhaps...but I lived through it.
I guess Shellay has never been treated that way so Jillian's rants and put downs had a positive effect on her. I just hope that trainers around the country aren't watching that thinking it will work with their clients. Because it sure wouldn't work with me and if anyone were to try it, they'd probably end up in tears in short order.
So what does work with me? Apparently nothing. I have to be motivated by my own desires or nothing will work. I often think about what I would do about my weight if the doctor told me that I was in danger of imminent death if I didn't lose weight immediately. I'd probably quote her a bunch of studies to refute her warning.
I'm an excuse person. I have an excuse for everything. And my excuse for having excuses is....

It's all about my weight

I know that WW's commercials declare that "it's not a diet" but it is a diet...at least to me. Any time I have to restrict my intake, whether it's quantity or quality, I'd call it a diet. I kinda knew I was no good at dieting. I mean, look at me now and look at me thirty years ago or even five years ago. But I thought I'd give it one more try. The new WW Core Plan seemed to be doable for me. No measuring. Lots of foods that were "allowed". I cannot fault the Plan. I lost weight when I stuck to it. But just knowing that I'm on a diet (whether WW calls it a diet or a plan or whatever) makes me obsessed, positively obsessed, with food. With food I cannot or should not have; with quantities of food I cannot or should not have. I don't even like bread that much but in the final weeks of WW, I was thinking about bread!
What good has come out of the experience? Well, I'm definitely eating less. And I'm not going off on the ice cream gorgings of the past. At least not yet. Except for that one night when I had a large Carvel hot fudge sundae. But that was weeks ago and I haven't had ice cream since. And no fried foods yet. In fact, that's the first thought I had of fried food! So I think that the best thing that happened is that I did gain some control. Now when I am out of control, I know I am. I know I'm out of control even before I jump in. So I do it consciously. It's actually a choice. So I'm not so pissed afterwards.
I haven't weighed myself but I have certainly gained back some of that hard fought for lost weight. And now people are telling me that I look like I've lost weight. Go figure. Huh? When I was down 15 pounds...which certainly makes a difference...pretty much no one noticed. Now that I've gained some back, I'm getting compliments. Last night it was a compliment on my hair. Of course, I know what that means. It means, "You look like you lost weight." Let's see, a remark about my hair or one telling me that I look rested or someone admiring my shoes....it's all about my weight!!!

I'm still here

I haven't posted for a few days or maybe more than a "few" days which is unusual for me since I had been posting daily since all this dieting began. There's been mostly weight gain over the last weeks. And no control or interest in controlling intake. I was missing cooking. Sure, I cooked meals but nothing that was any fun. And I was missing just grabbing something to eat without having to think about it, ponder its effect on my hips.
It turns out that I haven't learned anything at all since I started WW months ago. Or at least nothing that stuck. Because once I crossed the line, I went all the way.
So now I'm thinking. What to do. What to do. Go back the ascetic way of eating. Interestingly, I have not been obsessed by food thoughts since I threw in the towel. I sleep and dream of things other than food! I daydream about issues that are not related to food. My stops at Trader Joe's have decreased and shopping is a lot easier now that I am not consumed with dieting.
But today I sort of went back to WW. Sort of. Maybe more than sort of.
So far today, I've been back eating with a lot of pre-thought. I've not been particularly hungry today so it hasn't been a problem. Fish. Vegetables. Sweet potato. Salad. Asparagus. Boring. I mean, if the fish had been breaded and fried, ok. If the sweet potato had been mashed with some butter. That would have been great. But I ate. I'm not hungry. I'm not obsessed yet. We'll see.

Baby weight

I just read that Jessica Alba shed her "baby" weight in just a few weeks. Well, bully for her. I suppose being young, rich and slender before she got pregnant may have given her a slight edge. My kids are in their 30s and I still have "baby" weight to shed! Seriously. Alba ate 1700 calories a day. I'm so sure she shopped and prepared the meals. And she had a trainer come to her house six days a week. Just like the rest of us. And the promise of a multi million dollar movie contract might actually motivate me to lose the baby weight!
Why do we compare ourselves--our lives and our bodies---to those who are genetically, economically and socially privileged? Why?