Forward movement! And some backward.

Erm, just one more? So, I know I mentioned all kinds of stuff in an earlier post about trying to lose weight, and why, and my existing issues, and some of the issues it's raising that I didn't notice. Anyway, I am actually making remarkably good progress. A little bit of forward-then-back motion, but overall, not too much of it. I am somewhat less regular about the exercise--my two early mornings each week make me disinclined to get up early enough to exercise, even with the time change. Actually, it's not that I'm less regular, just, um, less daily. There have been some really cool moments--fitting into jeans I haven't been able to wear in... over a year--and some less than cool ones--where I had a melt-down over a cookie. The WeightWatchers thing is working for me, for the most part. I like the part where it's a budget, rather than an absolute list of do-not-eats. I occasionally get bogged down by the irritation of recording every... little... thing. There was a week where I pretty much just ignored it--which coincided with a visit from an out-of-state friend, and a lot of eating out and no exercising (because the elliptical had to be stored to make room for the air-mattress). I had just lost a total of 19 pounds by the week before, and gained 5 back that week. Horrifically frustrating to step on the scale, but, also the week made me realize I'd been getting a little crazy with the points thing. So, periodically, I'm going to take a week where I completely disregard tracking what I eat, to keep me from the crazy-making. It will not, however, coincide with out-of-town visitors again, because that combination was REALLY discouraging. Anyway, this is to remind myself that I'm making progress.

Control issues

I know a lot of my issues with weight and controlling what I eat have to do with the household I grew up in. (shush, yes, I know, ending with a preposition is bad.) Because everything was so strictly controlled--we got the crappy stuff, Larry got the good stuff--when I try to change what I eat or how I eat, I feel like I'm putting myself back there. I feel helpless and frustrated and angry all over again. It's not about the food itself, it's about the feeling of control. And I've tried to turn it around, to think, hey I'm controlling what I eat by, you know, actually controlling it rather than just eating anything and everything. It never seems to work. I can logically see that what I'm doing--choosing to eat or not eat particular foods--is putting me squarely in control. But emotionally, it feels like I'm right back where I grew up. It makes it so hard...

I guess, in a lot of ways, my behavior is the antithesis of a controlled environment. Housework? I hate it, barely do enough to keep the place presentable, resulting in massive panic and cleaning marathons when I have people over. I don't want to know what the people I love are doing every minute of every day--in fact, sometimes weeks (eep! Months, occasionally) go by where I don't even call family members to see what they're doing. I don't know how much of that stems from the fact that I knew many of Larry's behaviors stemmed from the fact that he was abused and had no control over his life growing up. To him, the only way to be safe was to control everything... what we ate, how long we talked on the phone (adults included), where we sat, what we watched, what we bought... I guess I'm swinging toward the opposite extreme, really. I guess it just feels so ridiculous to be able to recognize the root of the issue, and still feel the same way. I'm 27 years old... it's been almost 10 years since I've escaped that life, and still...

Weight Loss

So, my current obsession is trying to lose weight and get in shape. I realize as I type that it sounds like some sort of passing fad for me. That's not the case, really, it's just that I don't have a whole lot going on right now (shockingly), and so it's a larger focus than it would be normally. I started exercising 6 days a week the last week of July, and then started Weight Watchers the following week (beginning of August). I was worried about it initially because I've rarely had any success with diets or changing the kind of food we eat. Part of it is a lack of support from Anthony (which is endlessly annoying and frustrating), and part of it is because I have the tendency to go overboard when I'm trying to make changes. I do this al or nothing bit, and end up burning myself out in the first week. Instead of making small changes, slowly (which, DUH, I know is the smart way to do it), I feel like I need to make everything different all at once. And it's usually too much to handle for me, and I get frustrated and give up on it. But, a month ago, I weighed 293 lbs, at 5'6". I will never, ever, ever reach the weight the stupid, craptastic BMI charts say I should be (118 lbs?!?! Are you kidding me? You're insane! My boobs alone would take up a quarter of that weight!!!)--and someday, I will doubtless rant about how moronic those BMI charts are--but... but, sorry, got waaaay too sidetracked there, I do want to lose a significant chunk of weight for quite a few reasons. Primary reason being: baby. I want a baby, and I want a healthy pregnancy. Right now, because I'm so overweight, it increases the chance of all kinds of ugly things, and since I have PCOS, that can also lead to complications, and my family has a history of miscarriages. So... I want to do what I can to minimize those risks before-hand. Also, I'm tired of being so unhappy with the way I look. When I moved out to California about 9 years ago (really? 9 years already!?!), I put on about 100 pounds in less than 6 months. There were a ton of factors involved: change of lifestyle (working on a farm to working in a cubicle), massive spikes in stress levels (admitting to being abused and subsequent familial world war) which triggered escalated issues with PCOS, earning enough money for the first time in my life to pretty much get whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, after being in a very controlled environment most of my life... but the fact of the matter is that I never really had the motivation to stick with something long enough to take the weight off. I tried to work out periodically. I'd take classes a tthe community college to force me to be active, but I'd do poorly and then drop them from embarassment. Also, public showers = hate. I'd try to modify my eating habits, but boyfriend and then later husband objections made it not worth the effort when I didn't really want to be doing it anyway. It bothers me that I've never been able to summon sufficient motivation for my own health and my own happiness, but if needing to do it for a prospective baby is the only thing that gets me moving, then I'll take it. I know I need to examine some issues about that, though.

Anyway, in a month of exercising near-daily and slowly modifying my food habits, I've lost: 3.2 pounds. which is horrifically depressing in terms of progress. I know that it's likely to take me longer than the average Jane to lose the weight (thank you oh-so-much PCOS), but, I feel like I've been working so hard--making up new recipes, trying new things, modifying what I eat, oh, and did I mention the 6-day-a-week workout schedule? On an elliptical? For 45 minutes to an hour each day?--but there's so little to show for it. The good news is, though, that I've stuck with this longer than anything else I've ever tried. And, truthfully, it feels like something I could keep doing. My goal is to get down to 170, which is how much I weighed at my healthiest as an adult. I feel like I've got a realistic goal--to try to lose 120 lbs in 18 months. And I know I will be in substantially better shape than I've ever been in--regardless of the weight--because of the whole working out thing. Being able to do that at home, taking the embarrassment out of the equation has been a HUGE boon for me. Every other time I try to exercise more to get in shape, I die of embarrassment. Or I think I'm going to and quit before I can. Because, obviously, how horrible would that be? What would they write on a tombstone? :D

Anyway, I tend to think about it a lot. I'm sure it'll get easier (and less obsessive-making?) with time, but for now, it's preoccupying me mightily. Which means there's a decent chance I'll be posting about it more. (Also, I do realize this post is totally rambling, over-populated with parenthetical comments, and really, really, really disorganized. It's almost 3 am, and I should be asleep--I'm soooo tired--but the caffeine, it hates me!)