At lunch the other day, I was telling a friend about how helpful it was to move from the regular counseling group in the Program to the intensive group. She asked what the intensive group was and I said it was mainly for emotional eaters. Now, I don’t think there’s anything weird about that, but her concern for me was evident in her face. She said she hadn’t known I was an emotional eater. I said, “Meh, who isn’t?” and her reply shocked me a little.
“I’m not,” she said.
I’m pretty sure I said something eloquent like, “Wha-huh?” Then I asked if she eats when she’s bored…and she doesn’t. My mind was blown.
I’ve been yo-yoing in the 180s for two months now. Life is stressing me out and I’ve responded by eating it. I ran a 10k last week and I’m barely even proud of myself because I’m so ashamed of what a slacker I’ve become with eating and exercise in general. How twisted is that? But, that 10k? It was one of only two workouts I did last week. I’m supposed to get in five. And during the race? I ran the whole way, but what I was concerned about was how slow I was, that it felt like everyone was passing me by.
I had pizza for lunch one day and then told my trainer about it. He tried to tell me the whole thing about the momentary comfort not being worth it and I stopped him short. Because the thing is, when you spend your morning dealing with 30-odd pounds of screaming toddler who refuses to talk or acknowledge when you speak to him while dragging a preschooler around to therapy appointments he doesn’t want to attend, the momentary comfort a pizza provides is totally worth it. Even if you feel sick to your stomach afterward, that’s better than you felt before. At least there’s a physical reason for the nausea. As I’ve said on this blog before, if food as comfort didn’t work, there would be no problem with emotional eating.
I want to take a moment to remind you that this is a raw emotion I’m expressing here. My new way of dealing with it is to write it down and put it up here. I don’t feel like this all the time. I’m lucky in so many ways and I genuinely love my life. I don’t need any of you to do anything other than be the friends you already are to me. I do totally appreciate your concern, though.
Having one kid with special needs was a challenge. Having two is proving…difficult. I think. I don’t really know because I have nothing to compare it to. This is my entire experience with parenting. For all BamBam’s fits, though, it fills me with joy to watch when he laughs. He laughs with his whole body. For all BeBop’s tantrums over transitions, he’s the friendliest little guy you’d ever want to meet. I love that he has a big smile for everyone who comes his way. They’re fabulous kids.
On Monday, I let BamBam have a fit – complete with rolling on the ground kicking and screaming – on the sidewalk for a full five minutes while I just stood there feeling completely helpless. Or exasperated, they kind of feel the same these days. A mom with her three year old in tow passed by and said to me, “Hang in there, Mom.” I’m working on it.
So I asked my thin friend who doesn’t eat emotionally what she does for comfort. She stays in motion. And that’s a big part of my problem. When things get bad, I want to curl up into an inert little ball and then I want to feed the ball. I do feel better when I organize and get things done, but my tendency is to rest instead and an object at rest stays at rest without a force acting upon it. I need a force. I tend to get pretty testy when other people try to push me into action, so that force will have to come from within. I haven’t the faintest clue how that will happen, but, for now, that’s tomorrow’s problem. Where the hell is Obi-Wan when you need him?
{hug}
And, yup, emotional eating IS comforting. And those women who say taht cinnamon rolls don’t taste as good as their jeans look–well they’ve never had a decent cinnamon roll or else they are just stupid.
Hope the tantrums ease up, honey.
I used to pile it in as a substitute for love, and then (when I had love) as a comfort to stress. And the heavy carbs DID comfort me. Now, I don’t eat for emotional reasons as much anymore, but part of that is I stopped beating myself the hell up for the “sin” of eating and not being thin. You must check this out: http://bit.ly/b1tgYM You do not “need” to be thin/skinny to be in shape and happy!
Good luck hon, hang in there.
This is truthful writing. I thought I was coming here to give you a boost, and instead I had a lightbulb moment.
Hang in there mom. 😀 XOXO
I have so been in your shoes! And I have also had a conversation with a woman who said “oh I don’t eat, I just clean.” I wanted to beat her with her own mop. Clean? WTF?! Not me, I sit down with a good book and a snack, every damn time. It’s all about the attitude, and the more attitude we have, the less these extra pounds are going to matter. (This is my new mantra anyway. While I go get another snack.)
Julie
Hugs to you, baby. You sound like an awesome mom.
I am an emotional eater. When I am stressed or unhappy I want to curl up on the couch with soft drinks and snacks and a book or TV remote. I eat for comfort, and hours of stillness (and naps) are luxurious for me. My thin friends do not eat for comfort. When they are stressed, they do yoga or ride bikes or workout or go shopping or decorate rooms.
So I am trying to change my brain, and teach my body that movement = happiness. It’s a slow process.
Hang in there, honey. Things will get better.
Okay, I’ve gotta share in the same vein as you and lunarmom: When I lost a lot of weight at one time, a passing acquaintance at my office seemed to feel that it was appropriate to ask me lots of detailed personal questions about it. My favorite: “Why exactly do you eat? Is it because you’re hungry? I just don’t get hungry.” Needless to say, she had the body to show it.
But what I really want to say is, let’s refer back to your blog post of June 23. Yep, I knew something was nagging at me, so I went back to check. Your “Quitter” post. Go read it; I’ll wait.
Okay, now look at this:
“I ran a 10k last week and I’m barely even proud of myself because I’m so ashamed of what a slacker I’ve become with eating and exercise in general. How twisted is that? But, that 10k? It was one of only two workouts I did last week. I’m supposed to get in five. And during the race? I ran the whole way, but what I was concerned about was how slow I was, that it felt like everyone was passing me by.”
My point is… umm, yeah, you’re still *almost* completely insane, but do you see a difference? Yes, you’re beating yourself up inappropriately, BUT you’re doing it while continuing to do something that you’re neither perfect at nor quitting. You’re not in the middle path yet, but you’ve taken a few steps toward it, and you should be proud. Everyone around you is.
Remember, Grasshopper, it can be harder to do something passably well than to do it perfectly.
Just so you have things in perspective:
1. You are raising two kids with special needs.
2. You are doing an intensive weight loss program.
3. You are writing a book.
4. You just ran a 10k (I maybe thin, but I couldn’t even walk 10K, even if you paid me because I am a wimp).
5. You are writing a blog, which gets updated regularly.
6. And you have your sense of humor intact.
Please read the above list as if this was accomplished by a friend and be impressed, because you actually qualify as a super hero.
Mimi is 100% correct.
Will you please revive the hair poll and let us now help choose your super hero identity and costume? And can the purple dress be part of it?