♣ Tuesday weigh-in: 213.8

I should have written this post earlier in the week when I was feeling rotten. I feel pretty good today and it’s hard to look back at the harsh reality of the earlier days of this week in my current mood. Or maybe it’s better this way so that I don’t just come off as whiney. Who knows?

Up until my weigh-in last Tuesday, I had actually gained two pounds. Intellectually, I know that this was because I started my (those of you on the squeamish side might want to skip over the next word here) period. I’ve been going through this on a regular basis since I was ten, that’s roughly thirty years give or take a pregnancy, so you’d think I’d know the drill by now. You gain weight. You feel like crap. Still, I seem to have been surprised by it. I was so frustrated because I had done everything I was supposed to be doing, even exercised more than I had the week before, and yet here were these two pounds staring back at me from the scale. Not on the scale, on me. I’m pretty sure they were hanging out on my stomach, so I could have seen them if my ginormous rack would get the hell out of the way.

Huh. I guess it’s easier to call up the stored vitriole than I thought.

Anyway, beyond the whole cycle thing, I’ve been struggling to stay on the diet. I haven’t cheated yet, but I want to. I mean I WANT to. My dietician tells me that this is normal, most people on the Program struggle with it, it’s the end of the honeymoon phase. The newness of the diet has worn off and I’m realizing that I’m going to be spending the rest of my life with this…stuff. What the hell was I thinking? I want to go back to the salad days. Well, not the salad days, actually. I want the large-pizza-and-a-coke-followed-by-a-pint-of-Ben-&-Jerry’s days. I suppose this would be a good time to employ a mantra like, “Nothing tastes as good as thin feels.” Problem is that I’m still not actually convinced of that. I’ve tasted some pretty yummy things.

In addition to all of that, I’m struggling with feelings. Ugh. For those of you who don’t know me well, I’m not someone who shares my feelings easily. I love to listen to other people, got a steady shoulder ready to offer for a friend, but I’m not generally one to ask for anything in return. I don’t like to burden other people with my feelings, preferring to put on a happy face and tell a joke. Actually, I’m not much for jokes, but if you want a sarcastic comment or a diversionary movie reference, I’m your gal.

I’ve been experimenting lately with sharing more of myself (case in point, this blog), but it often comes out awkward and stilted somehow. So please bear with me if you’ve been on the receiving end of any of those efforts…I’m working on it.

So I traditionally put on a happy face and avoid sharing my darker feelings. And conflict? Forget it. I’ve expended a lot of energy over the years specifically avoiding conflict. Which is part of the reason I was so surprised to find myself in a situation recently where I felt attacked. I didn’t do anything about it, didn’t say much at all, but the feelings have been festering and that makes me want to eat. Problem is, the eating doesn’t help, so I have to figure out something else to do. My brother used to suggest exercise, but it seems to me that that just puts the same kind of band-aid on the problem as food does. Although I would certainly look prettier on the outside employing his tactic rather than mine.

Nope, I’m going to have to come up with another way to deal with the feelings. Actually deal with them, not brush them aside or put them in a box out of site so that they don’t mess up anyone’s day, including mine.

What’s working for me in this instance is realizing that the attack was really more about the attacker than it was about me. I don’t know how that will work in the future, but it seems okay for the moment, so I’m rolling with it.

Plus, I wore jeans a size smaller than I had been wearing yesterday and they were still too BIG! Maybe thin does feel better than some things taste. I’m going to find out.