It's menopause.
I know from experience that any hormonal changes create issues with weight, and that's just a fact. All I can do is really try my best to not let things get out of hand. If I can. But the fact is, this is a war I can't win. My body (all bodies, to my knowledge) needs extra calories in order to facilitate healing or cope with the stress of bodily changes. I go through it every month (at least I used to!), in some small measure, every time I have a period. I eat more, my weight fluctuates.
Now, it's fluctuating constantly and I can't really get my bearings. This is like being in a constant state of PMS. The bloating and hunger, all of my usual symptoms, they rage on, but with no release now, for over two months. I begin to suspect I've been in perimenopause for a few years now. I would never have classified it as such, but in retrospect, I see how my periods have been irregular in flow, in timing, in duration. Everything has been a little bit off for quite some time. Weight has been an issue. I've had issues with skin pigment. And come to think of it, body temperature. Looking back, it all makes sense.
Yes. How unkind I can be to myself. I guess I can chalk it up to my own ignorance. I didn't know. All along, I've been pushing myself, torturing myself, really, about the food- all the dieting and attempts to control and withhold. Becoming angry when my own body would not submit to my demands.
Ah, peace. The peace that comes from understanding what is happening. I'm just getting old, and my body is doing what every woman's body does at this stage. In time, it will pass. I'll still watch my eating. Maybe I'll even try to eat more nutritiously. I've been noticing all of these food sensitivities over the last two years and I read recently that when estrogen levels dip, the digestive system can be affected. Apparently estrogen can mask problems there. So now that I know that, I can make the necessary changes. Wheat and cheese seem to be the main culprits, so I've been working on that. I can spare myself the inflammation and health consequences of eating foods I have trouble with. It's the least I can do for myself right now.
So, be kind. Take it easy. It's natural. In time, it will all pass. I'll be okay. I'll keep telling myself that. And as for "loseweightfinally"- I guess it will have to wait.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Calming Down
Up half a pound.
Weighing every day, no matter what anyone says. I can handle a fluctuation. That's what today is. It's a monthly cycle deal. Speaking of which... last month I missed, possibly due to the death of my friend, possibly just pre-menopause. It's hard to say. It's been a painful month: loss, fear of loss, my dad's first surgery at 77 and an episode of delirium from the medication or anesthesia they gave him. It took a few days for him to fully recover his mind. I feel teary just thinking about it.
Okay, so I'm crying. Crying and typing.
I'm sad for my dad, I'm sad about a lot of things, and in a way I'm sad for how relentlessly I abuse myself about my body. I really did gain five pounds in about a week. It was after shiva. My period never came and somehow the pounds just packed on. Two went pretty fast, but I've been struggling. It amazes me how I can never just say, "okay, things are a little hard and I put on a few pounds," and then just let it go. But I can't. Maybe it's a convenient distraction. A way to not feel the sadness that is just below the surface. And the pain is right there- just a little scratch and it starts to flow.
My friend is gone.
My dad is getting old now.
I'm facing menopause and I've never had kids.
But, you know, focus on the five pounds. Three, now. As if it really fucking matters.
And yet, it does.
Maybe it is a distraction.
Maybe it's just a habit.
But it matters to me.
It matters because the weight gain, the food issues, they are all an indication that something is wrong. Whatever natural processes regulate hunger and feeding, in me, they are still all screwed up. And as long as it is screwed up, I'm not whole and I am not free.
That's the real issue. I'm not free.
Even if the solution were not weight loss, even if the solution is acceptance, I don't have the ability to "do" either. It amazes me, it always does, how little control I have over so many things. Add my weight to the list. Add my hunger and my fear of being hungry. I know in my mind what is "right," what I should do. Like Paul says: "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do, I do not do- but what I hate, that I do." It's a war in me, that rages in spite of me. Well, again, Paul puts it thus: "we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of darkness in this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places."
That's some heavy stuff. Do dark powers care about my weight? No, but they care very much about the fact that they can cause hopelessness in me, that they can control my emotions and my body by encouraging the tensions and obsessions that consume and dominate me. They can divert my thoughts from things that are good for me: work, love, grief, working through the changes going on in my life. They can control me, and they like that. Every thought wasted on negativity and hopelessness is their food, and they pig out on my obsessive energy. I'm about fifteen pounds from a good weight, a weight where I can be happy. I'm not obese and I'm barely in the overweight range, depending on what chart I use, so the pain is less about the weight and more about control. I am not in control, and if I am not, and it's my own body here, who is?
It's a spiritual fight where I don't have knowledge of the players and the rules. On the battlefield, it's chaos and there is no big picture. I'm on that field and all I can see is the stuff coming at me. I'm often blindsided and reeling, because I'm in it. I need to get on top of it, to get to the hill and look down in order to really see what's going on. I need to transcend the problem. I need to get outside of it.
It's not like I don't have experience with this sort of thing. I've quit smoking, I've quit drinking, I've found my way out of a lot of difficult stuff. All of those slave-like conditions, in time, were transcended, somehow. Somehow, the freedom comes. I fight and struggle for years, banging on the door, bloodying myself and then one day, the damn thing just opens. Now, maybe each bang loosens the hold and is necessary in a way I can't see, but when the door opens, I'm in the sun and the sky is blue, and I wonder, "what the hell was all that about?" I mean, it becomes so easy. What was once impossible becomes so effortless, out of nowhere. But maybe that's just what it is when you are fighting dark powers and principalities. It's a war in the spirit that you only feel the effects of.
But what is there to do in the meantime?
I just struggle. That's all. Keep trying, keep praying and hope the door swings open. The thing is, I can't know the date and time of my deliverance. I can't choose it or control it. The dark forces rage on until the day I am suddenly in the sun, in the light.
Weighing every day, no matter what anyone says. I can handle a fluctuation. That's what today is. It's a monthly cycle deal. Speaking of which... last month I missed, possibly due to the death of my friend, possibly just pre-menopause. It's hard to say. It's been a painful month: loss, fear of loss, my dad's first surgery at 77 and an episode of delirium from the medication or anesthesia they gave him. It took a few days for him to fully recover his mind. I feel teary just thinking about it.
Okay, so I'm crying. Crying and typing.
I'm sad for my dad, I'm sad about a lot of things, and in a way I'm sad for how relentlessly I abuse myself about my body. I really did gain five pounds in about a week. It was after shiva. My period never came and somehow the pounds just packed on. Two went pretty fast, but I've been struggling. It amazes me how I can never just say, "okay, things are a little hard and I put on a few pounds," and then just let it go. But I can't. Maybe it's a convenient distraction. A way to not feel the sadness that is just below the surface. And the pain is right there- just a little scratch and it starts to flow.
My friend is gone.
My dad is getting old now.
I'm facing menopause and I've never had kids.
But, you know, focus on the five pounds. Three, now. As if it really fucking matters.
And yet, it does.
Maybe it is a distraction.
Maybe it's just a habit.
But it matters to me.
It matters because the weight gain, the food issues, they are all an indication that something is wrong. Whatever natural processes regulate hunger and feeding, in me, they are still all screwed up. And as long as it is screwed up, I'm not whole and I am not free.
That's the real issue. I'm not free.
Even if the solution were not weight loss, even if the solution is acceptance, I don't have the ability to "do" either. It amazes me, it always does, how little control I have over so many things. Add my weight to the list. Add my hunger and my fear of being hungry. I know in my mind what is "right," what I should do. Like Paul says: "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do, I do not do- but what I hate, that I do." It's a war in me, that rages in spite of me. Well, again, Paul puts it thus: "we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of darkness in this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places."
That's some heavy stuff. Do dark powers care about my weight? No, but they care very much about the fact that they can cause hopelessness in me, that they can control my emotions and my body by encouraging the tensions and obsessions that consume and dominate me. They can divert my thoughts from things that are good for me: work, love, grief, working through the changes going on in my life. They can control me, and they like that. Every thought wasted on negativity and hopelessness is their food, and they pig out on my obsessive energy. I'm about fifteen pounds from a good weight, a weight where I can be happy. I'm not obese and I'm barely in the overweight range, depending on what chart I use, so the pain is less about the weight and more about control. I am not in control, and if I am not, and it's my own body here, who is?
It's a spiritual fight where I don't have knowledge of the players and the rules. On the battlefield, it's chaos and there is no big picture. I'm on that field and all I can see is the stuff coming at me. I'm often blindsided and reeling, because I'm in it. I need to get on top of it, to get to the hill and look down in order to really see what's going on. I need to transcend the problem. I need to get outside of it.
It's not like I don't have experience with this sort of thing. I've quit smoking, I've quit drinking, I've found my way out of a lot of difficult stuff. All of those slave-like conditions, in time, were transcended, somehow. Somehow, the freedom comes. I fight and struggle for years, banging on the door, bloodying myself and then one day, the damn thing just opens. Now, maybe each bang loosens the hold and is necessary in a way I can't see, but when the door opens, I'm in the sun and the sky is blue, and I wonder, "what the hell was all that about?" I mean, it becomes so easy. What was once impossible becomes so effortless, out of nowhere. But maybe that's just what it is when you are fighting dark powers and principalities. It's a war in the spirit that you only feel the effects of.
But what is there to do in the meantime?
I just struggle. That's all. Keep trying, keep praying and hope the door swings open. The thing is, I can't know the date and time of my deliverance. I can't choose it or control it. The dark forces rage on until the day I am suddenly in the sun, in the light.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
I'm Fat!
Time to face it.
I quit smoking 8 1/2 years ago and gained 15 pounds. Make that 16.
I'm 5' 4 1/2" tall and I weigh 148 pounds this morning and I can't take it anymore. Nothing I do works. Nothing. If I start to diet, I can't stick with it. If I start to exercise I gain weight immediately and become discouraged.
I have to eat less and I just can't. Or I can for a minute. I'm a victim of the law: "You must," "you must not." Everything I do revolves around those statements and I cannot adhere to what I must or must not do.
I have to get outside the law. I have to make all things lawful, but I can't. I do not have the power. I can't deceive my own self.
Jesus, help!
I need healing in my relationship with food, my body, all of what comprises this issue. I no longer know how to feed myself, how to nourish myself. Help, help, help!
How do I truly surrender?
How do I commit all of this to You?
I'm not really working, so I have way too much idle time on my hands and my income is reduced to the point where I live in one room. That means my food is about three feet from me wherever I am. It's like living in the refrigerator, literally. More work = more money =distance from fridge in every way: larger space, other things to think about, time occupied, brain on things other than space in stomach.
Not working is part of this, I think. But a part of me feels that all of that is a cop-out. If I had it together I wouldn't need to work to distract myself from food, I could live under any conditions and not have it affect my weight. But maybe that's the point. I'm not together. Why lie about it? When I got sober 20 years ago, I went to AA and avoided alcohol for a while. Not forever, but for a while. When I did have to be near booze, I had a plan: I had an escape planned or I had another sober person with me.This is another addiction and I can treat it as such. I can go to OA. I've been before. Just go. Work the program and use the tools. Get a sponsor to do the steps. Have a plan. Accept the fact that this is a real issue, that isn't going away- that I am not all that together when it comes to food.
I want this to be easy, effortless, but it isn't. I have a problem- a number of problems- that need to be addressed.
I'm writing this and inside I'm saying, "whatever I do, it will not work. This is another lame attempt that will go nowhere."
But I need to try something.
Move a muscle, change a thought.
Just try.
So I will. I have plenty of writing to do, plenty of studying for the job I want and a manuscript to finish. There's plenty to do. Go to meetings. Walk. Get busy, as busy as I can get. Yes, distract myself. It's okay to not be "together." The point is to get there. In AA, it eventually got to the point where I could be around alcohol without freaking out. But first I needed a plan, and I needed to follow through.
So. Work. Meetings. Church. Distract, distract. Make some money while I'm at it and build a life where I have enough. Perhaps that's part of the problem: all that financial deprivation is getting made up, maybe, in my belly.
I quit smoking 8 1/2 years ago and gained 15 pounds. Make that 16.
I'm 5' 4 1/2" tall and I weigh 148 pounds this morning and I can't take it anymore. Nothing I do works. Nothing. If I start to diet, I can't stick with it. If I start to exercise I gain weight immediately and become discouraged.
I have to eat less and I just can't. Or I can for a minute. I'm a victim of the law: "You must," "you must not." Everything I do revolves around those statements and I cannot adhere to what I must or must not do.
I have to get outside the law. I have to make all things lawful, but I can't. I do not have the power. I can't deceive my own self.
Jesus, help!
I need healing in my relationship with food, my body, all of what comprises this issue. I no longer know how to feed myself, how to nourish myself. Help, help, help!
How do I truly surrender?
How do I commit all of this to You?
I'm not really working, so I have way too much idle time on my hands and my income is reduced to the point where I live in one room. That means my food is about three feet from me wherever I am. It's like living in the refrigerator, literally. More work = more money =distance from fridge in every way: larger space, other things to think about, time occupied, brain on things other than space in stomach.
Not working is part of this, I think. But a part of me feels that all of that is a cop-out. If I had it together I wouldn't need to work to distract myself from food, I could live under any conditions and not have it affect my weight. But maybe that's the point. I'm not together. Why lie about it? When I got sober 20 years ago, I went to AA and avoided alcohol for a while. Not forever, but for a while. When I did have to be near booze, I had a plan: I had an escape planned or I had another sober person with me.This is another addiction and I can treat it as such. I can go to OA. I've been before. Just go. Work the program and use the tools. Get a sponsor to do the steps. Have a plan. Accept the fact that this is a real issue, that isn't going away- that I am not all that together when it comes to food.
I want this to be easy, effortless, but it isn't. I have a problem- a number of problems- that need to be addressed.
I'm writing this and inside I'm saying, "whatever I do, it will not work. This is another lame attempt that will go nowhere."
But I need to try something.
Move a muscle, change a thought.
Just try.
So I will. I have plenty of writing to do, plenty of studying for the job I want and a manuscript to finish. There's plenty to do. Go to meetings. Walk. Get busy, as busy as I can get. Yes, distract myself. It's okay to not be "together." The point is to get there. In AA, it eventually got to the point where I could be around alcohol without freaking out. But first I needed a plan, and I needed to follow through.
So. Work. Meetings. Church. Distract, distract. Make some money while I'm at it and build a life where I have enough. Perhaps that's part of the problem: all that financial deprivation is getting made up, maybe, in my belly.
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