Pity Party Semi-Over

Mar 25, 2012

Well.  After my trash compactor post I went further downhill.  Despite the amazing support and encouragement from all of you I couldn't shake what I was feeling.

My husbands job is still up in the air, and despite going to a counselor and psychiatrist for a while now I am thinking my current meds aren't working well.  I started a new one two weeks ago which is suppose to help with my outbursts of anger, but today was a rough one and I was a fire breathing mommy rather than a calm cool collected one.  Not the way I want to be.

For all of you who have asked, I have been seeing a counselor for over a year now.  I started seeing her because I didn't want to go back to the old Jenci, the one who stuffed her face constantly, and who hated herself inside and out.  She has been great.  I have admitted and opened myself up to things I never knew were inside.  I have been able to accept the changes happening to my body because of the weight loss and to allow myself to "adorn" my body accordingly.  (I used to steer clear of scarves, awesome jewelry, and clothes because I didn't want to draw attention to the fact that I was fat).  As if being fat wasn't enough of an attention getter.  Yep.  Crazy.

I often marvel at how blind I was to my obesity.  I feel good now.  My weight isn't "ideal", but it is comfortable.  I used to hate seeing pictures of myself, and would always try to cut out the majority of my body.  Looking at myself in these two pictures is enough of a shock that I can't deny that I am doing well. 
  
Additionally, I went to the church I used to regularly attend (over 5 years ago), and a woman I was close to, a woman I sang in choir with walked right past me, said good morning and kept walking until I said "Joyce, it's Jenci".  She stopped, and almost cried as she embraced me.  She didn't recognize me.  And the grandparents of an ex-boyfriend of mine did the same thing, walked right past until someone else said my name and the grandmother was beside herself congratulating me on my weight loss.  I see myself as a failure at the moment, but everyone around me still views me as a success.  I have to hold on to that feeling, embrace the fact that I am / have been successful and walk-tall and move forward. 

Today was a good day to go to church, if nothing else I heard this, I am the one who controls my life, and I am the one who decides what goes in my body, I am the one who chooses good food or bad food.  And if I keep making the wrong decisions I have no one to blame but myself.  

One of the things I heard talked a lot about at OA was how our addiction is different from every other addiction / disease out there, no one can live without the thing we're addicted to, food.  We have to eat.  We can't simply avoid bars, or familiar places we go to get fixes, we have to go to the grocery store, we have to eat somewhere, sometime.  Food is always around us.  I think where we are similar to an alcoholic is that we have to make choices which steer us away from bars, or in our case, fast food joints, ice cream parlors, and trigger foods.  We have choices.  The trick is to make your brain accept your choice and realize that not eating that cookie won't signal the end of the world.  Food is more than a want, at least it should be, just because I want a cookie doesn't mean I need a cookie or two or three.  

Part of my getting back on track is going to have to come from realizing that I have a choice, food doesn't control me, I control it, and I control what goes in my mouth.  Impulse isn't an excuse.

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