A week from H-E- double hockey sticks

Following is my week 5 update of the challenge. Anyone who has read my blog this week knows it's not been my best, to say the least. But it's new behavior to own it, put it out there, and move on. I'm not going to say more or do the quarterbacking interpreting and explaining that bubbles up out of me so automatically. Talk's cheap.

1. Weigh Friday and document here. Today's weight - 200. Last week 194.1.
2. 30 mins cardio 6x a week. Not once. Knee issues suck.
3. 15 minutes meditation/quiet time 5x/week. None.
4. Write down all food. Sporadic. Started most days but as eating unravelled, writing stopped. The last 2 days my food was clean, but I didn't write any of it down.

Whew - glad that's over. Remember the old movie about the Titanic - A Night To Remember? Well, this was a week to forget. Learn from. Circumstances both in and out of my control. Thank God it's over.

This may be a disjointed post, but I have a bunch of thoughts percolating. Maybe I can spare you guys my usual long paragraphs.

-Last dose of Prednisone on board this morning. I've accelerated the taper even more by taking 10 mg this morning, instead of 2nd dose of 20. I'll be fine. I don't recommend playing with medication dosing prescribed by your doctor. This happens to be one of my main areas of expertise as a nurse. And I'm freaking sick and tired of the ravages this drug has wrought on my poor wittle self for the last 12 days.

-I said above that I've had 2 full days of clean eating. Yes, it's true. But it's been torturous. The inner binge-er has been having a field day with my psyche almost continually. While I'm at work I stay mostly distracted enough to tune it out. But once home, and with not being able to exercise (other than wall push ups and other lame attempts), the food thoughts are constantly haranguing me. I've been able to clearly recognize absence of true gnawing hunger. Not physically hungry. But girlfriend wants to eat...for - boredom, comfort, food tastes good, why not?, etc. No reason. Every reason. Any reason. I did not give in, but I'm getting damned tired of the endless obsession that is currently brewing in my head. Not something brilliant brewing these days. Ooops - so much for no long paragraphs.

-I'm currently reading Frances Kuffel's book "Passing for Thin". I learned of this book from this post a while back by Vicky at Baby Steps V when she talked about reading it long ago and recently beginning Frances' recently released book "Angry Fat Girls". Vicky did a wonderful review of the first book and gave a history of Frances' journey, so I'll leave you to check it out if you're so inclined. Immediately upon reading Vicky's post, I ordered both books from Amazon and am 2/3 through the first. Basically it's Frances' account of being overweight for her entire life until her early 40s when she joined a 12 step recovery program and lost about 180 pounds. She is an amazing writer with a remarkable gift for words. And though I haven't gained weight to the point she did, she tells my story in the book. And it's got me torqued, uneasy, even unhappy. As I write here now, I think it's played a role in emotional struggle and depression I've experienced this week.

Frances details what her life was like as a compulsive eater, and then from the "not everything is suddenly alright now that I've lost 180 pounds" perspective after abstaining from compulsive eating long enough to have that incredible weight loss. The more I try to describe it, the more I'll botch the essence of her story. Suffice to say that before and after "recovery", her struggle is mine. When things in her healthy 161 pound gym-rat body went awry and landed her in surgery, ICU, and subsequent months of getting better, her food compulsions were right there waiting for her. As though they'd been doing push-ups in the next room for the years she was abstaining from overeating, waiting for a vulnerable moment to begin their wily ways of luring her back to the kitchen cupboards. Apparently she ultimately does regain a substantial amount of weight, as that is what the 2nd book is about, and written with 4 other women she met in the blogosphere who had similar journeys.

Not sure right now how she'll end up in book one, or what happens in book 2. But here's my thing: This really is my story. A lot of weight loss bloggers likely wouldn't relate to the ugliness of the compulsive overeating Frances endured. Many just need to power down the scale and up the gym and they'll be over this affliction forever. I know that isn't how it will be for me. When I decide to "go off" plan, it's no holds barred and bizarre. I can stay on plan for a long time (though not lately!). But once I give in, my ugliness matches Frances' any day of the week. It would take nothing for me to surpass her high weight of 313 lbs. I'm not going to, but deeply know it's in me to do it.

So again - it's depressing and frustrating to know this truth about myself. I've ragged on about it before - why me? In AA there is a statement about how every alcoholic harbors a fervent wish that he could be "normal", and drink like other people. Now that I'm sober a shitload of time, I wouldn't want that at all. But I sure harbor the wish that I could eat like a normal person. Have a cookie. A piece of cake. A bowl of ice cream. I truly don't believe I'll ever be able to enjoy certain food that way. The screwy metabolism and mental obsession of an alcoholic has rendered me unable to handle certain foods normally. I don't want it to be this way. It is. Nothing new here. Just another post about it.

And speaking of food obession, the forecast of a big weekend snowstorm feeds right into my thoughts - how often have I made a big batch of cookies at the beginning of a storm. Part of the nesting instinct? Or similar to bringing in a few extra bottles of wine and vodka for a long winter confinement? What I HAVE done is get the makings for a great beef stew I'll make tomorrow, and lots of fruit, veggies and salad fixings to hold us through what will probably be just a few hours of being indoors while the snow is falling.

After all this - I'm feeling better and again able to sense my baseline of hope, optimism and determination. They seem a little faded as yet, but will continue to come into focus if I don't sabotage myself. Give peace a chance? Give Leslie a chance!