Roots

I dreamed of my grandma last night. She died 10 years ago but my dreaming of her isn't really a surprise considering all the thought I've been giving food and exercise lately. I believe my grandmother is the root of the issue I have with both. She passed her obsession to my mother who became anorexic who passed it on to me and I obviously rebelled and went the other direction. My grandmother was hyper aware of appearance and health. She took many vitamins, watched what she and everyone else ate, and exercised regularly. She nagged my perpetually thin and healthy grandfather about every small treat he ate. She baked cookies with applesauce instead of oil before it was in vogue. If he wanted a small chocolate shake from McDonald's it was a huge deal. She meant well with her nagging but she drove everyone crazy.

For as long as I can remember my family nagged me about my weight and what I ate. Perhaps it doesn't go back to ages 5, 6, and 7 but in my memory it does. My grandmother started with the "You have such a pretty face - if only..." crap when I was very young (always while sweeping my bangs off my face because no matter their length they were always hiding my pretty eyes). I don't know if my mom thought about my weight before my grandmother started the comments but my mom took it and ran with it. We had no treats in the house. The worst foods were saltines and peanut butter. She refused to buy or bake anything fattening. I got in trouble when I came home and had a snack other than an apple. As I got older, I started sneaking food and hiding it. I would buy something at the little market up the street (at least I got exercise hiking to it) and take it home to eat. I would buy a bag of chips or a quart of ice cream or candy bars then feel like I had to eat it all so I could throw it away and get rid of the evidence. Sometimes my mom would find my stash. She would pile it on my bed and yell at me about being "a dirty little sneak". I would feel such shame and promise her not to do it anymore while promising myself to get better hiding places. My furtive behavior made her even more restrictive. She threatened to lock up the cabinets when I ate saltines or made pasta. Her restrictive behavior reinforced my sneaky behavior. It was a vicious cycle.

She tried to take me to child psychologists to "fix" me but it never lasted long. The psychologists either treated me like a moron and I could see exactly where they were going with everything or they just handed me a diet and told me to follow it. Neither was helpful but then I didn't even attempt to speak honestly with them because I was ashamed and because I was sure they would tell my mother everything I said. I was a kid who felt powerless - much like the anorexic who exerts her only control through food I did the same thing just on the opposite end of the spectrum.

I don't share this to paint my mother or grandmother as bad women. They were/are both amazing in their own ways. My mother was divorced and struggling to raise me alone while working and going to school at night and trying to date and maintain a middle class lifestyle. Nor do I want to blame them for where I find myself currently. I am a grown up now and I take full responsibility for the choices I make. I share it for 2 reasons. First, I've never told anyone any of this before. It is a source of great shame for me. And second, because I've been examining why I have such an unhealthy relationship with food. One of the things that made me recommit to getting healthy right now is that I found myself thinking about snacking out of my husband's sight which reminded me of the sneaky behavior with food from my childhood. It is a cycle I want to break because it is ridiculous.

Day 14 & some self-disclosure

Day 14 Level 1

Yes, I am still hanging out at Level 1. I just don't feel like I've made enough progress to move up to Level 2. I had hoped to do it tomorrow but I think I'm going to hold off a few more days. Honestly, I'm afraid if I try it and fail I will get discouraged and sabatoge myself. I'm a perfectionist but it is all or nothing - if I can't do it perfectly then I might as well not do it at all. (Healthy, huh?) Anyway, today I felt decent about my workout. I was able to hang the whole time. I did 3 real push ups! I don't think I've ever done a real push up before. I did the bicycle crunches the whole way through. I managed to do all of the shoulder raises (I usually have to skip a few). I'm still doing things modified but sort of right in between Natalie and Anita. I'm not at Natalie's level but I'm doing more than Anita.

Now for the self disclosure. I'm trying to keep this blog somewhat anonymous and separate from my "real" on line life. I'm doing this for 2 reasons. #1 because I am ashamed of where I am with my weight. #2 so that I can be honest - I'm not worried about my real life peeps being disapproving. That said, I haven't been talkin much so I guess I need to if I am going to be worry about the ability to be honest.

When I got pregnant, I was at 170lbs. That was the lowest number I had seen on the scale in at least a decade. And I was comfortable at the at number. I felt good about myself. I wasn't particularly self conscious. I loved that I could shop for clothes in any store that I wanted and find things that fit. I didn't have to sneak back to the plus sized section. I didn't feel like people were making comments if I ate an ice cream cone in public. I still could have lost another 20 lbs but I was happy enough.

Then I got pregnant. I won't go into the associated drama with that but I was on bed rest for much of my pregnancy. Because of that and a couple of other reasons, I ballooned up while I was pregnant. I wasn't able to move but was being told to eat more. I stopped looking at the scale at the end of my pregnancy - but toward the end I was 241. I had the baby, lost some of the weight and the water I had been retaining, was breastfeeding and things were okay. Then I quit breastfeeding. I was tired all of the time. I was eating whatever I wanted (tired of eating healthy while pregnant and nursing) and not exercising often because I was tired. I would Shred for a couple of days and then decide to take a day off because I was so damned tired. My day off would turn into 3 weeks. I realized I was fast approaching my pregnancy weight. I got on the scale and saw 230 and was so frustrated that I ignored it because it felt out of my control. I would start the Shred again with the best of intentions and then we would go out to eat on the weekend and I would skip working out and then stop entirely again (see the perfectionist thing above).

So when I started this blog 2 weeks ago, I decided I was going to get serious about it - but not fanatical. I'm trying to keep my perfectionist tendency from rearing its ugly head so that I can cut myself enough slack to succeed. Starting today I am tracking my food - not just eyeballing it but putting it into a program so I can really see what I am putting into my mouth every day. I need to walk the line between being so casual that it doesn't work and so rigid that I get all perfectionist about it. Friday I weighed myself and was 222. I rarely weigh myself and prefer to judge things based on how my clothes feel but that obviously isn't working for me right now. I am in my really fat clothes from many years ago and hate them all. I'm working to get back into my pre-pregnancy stuff. It isn't all vanity - I also want to be healthy for my kids.