I’ve been struggling. Things have been happening in my life that I can’t control, things around my family and my friends and my (lack-of) love life. I know that I can’t control these things but I am struggling to deal with the feeling of being completely unsupported and — as a result — both alone and lonely. I feel as if it is always me who picks up the slack in every situation, and I wonder how far I can stretch myself before I break. The question becomes more and more relevant because it feels like I’m reaching that point.

So I guess the question is how do you combat this? How do you fight the feelings and thoughts that are telling that the reason no one is there is because you don’t deserve anyone, that if only you were smarter and prettier and funnier and, yes, skinnier then maybe you’d have the support you needed. Maybe people would pick you instead of someone else. Maybe relatives would realise that if they screw up their lives it doesn’t just affect them — particularly when you’re the one who has to bail them out.

But here’s the problem: I’m not smarter or prettier or funnier or skinnier. And the fact is that I don’t have anyone here. There is no one who would just drop everything for me. And as much as I might wish that it were the case, maybe this is a lesson I have to learn: No one will do it for me.

So, yes, I’ve been struggling. And I anticipate that will continue, simply because what I’m fighting here is my mind and my emotions. If it were just circumstances, I think I would be fine. But this? I’ve been weaving in and out of this ‘mood’ the whole of this year, been feeling like I’m not going anywhere and who would care if I did anyway.

I know that weight-loss can and will pull me out of it. I know the benefits for self-esteem and balance that exercise brings. I just….I can’t seem to find my groove. I lose weight and then gain it back. I dilly. Followed generally by my dallying.

I guess what I have to remember is that there’s a lot of things I can’t control. I can’t stop my relatives from making bad decisions. I can’t stop my relatives from hurting each other, and all I can do is be there if it all comes crashing down. I can’t make a boy pick me over another girl, and I have to accept that it will feel shit for awhile because it’s a type of confirmation that I’m worthless — even if I think the boy’s a bit of a dick for the way he acted anyway.

What I can control, though, is exercise. I can control the fact that I feel amazing when I achieve something new in a run. I feel amazing when I lift a new weight. I feel amazing when I realise that I don’t just have to be beautiful, that my body has functions and uses and it isn’t just the outside that matters.

That is what I have to concentrate on, for as long as it takes me to get out of my funk. It will get better. It will get better.

Posted at 9:00 pm | No Comments »

I see this all the time on the WW message boards: How do you wrap your mind around losing 20/30/40/50/100kg?

The answer is almost inevitably: You make small goals and try to reach them. You break it up into 5kg lots, so that you can celebrate each time you reach a milestone. You buy yourself a charm each time, mini-goals, etc, etc.

I’m sure that works for some people, but it doesn’t work for me. I can tell you now that I have never achieved a mini-goal within the time frame I’ve wanted, because part of me has always resisted it. I am scared of setting goals. I have goal-setter’s anxiety!

But I realised tonight just why that is: When I break myself up into chunks, I can’t imagine the gradual transformation. My mind just can’t deal with it. So midway through last year, I was down 17 kilos, not because of goal-setting, but because I was doing the right thing consistently. If I’d written down on a piece of paper ‘Goal 1: Lose 17 kilos’, I suspect I would have hovered around 15 for months. And here’s my reason:

When we start the journey, of course we can imagine the end result. Because that end result is almost always an ideal version of ourselves; the perfect, toned, never tempted by the wrong thing, fit and active and loving life, never having a problem with dress sizes (what, they don’t run out of normal-girl sizes?!), skinny us.

The other thing we can imagine is non-skinny us, i.e. now. But for me, there’s no in between. I can’t say, “Okay, I’m going to lose 5kg.” and imagine what I will be like without those 5kg. Then I end up with Goal-Setter’s Anxiety because I’m getting close to that 5kg, but I am certainly not what skinny-me looks like in my head.

This is the problem with numbers, I think. Mentally, I can put myself at skinny, or I can put myself at my largest, and unless I’m there already, I don’t know the in-betweens. The numbers don’t explain how you feel; how, at 10kg someone first complimented you and you stood a little taller, how at 13 you ran for 10 minutes for the first time ever, how at 17 you couldn’t stop looking at yourself in mirrors and you finally feel like a ‘real girl’…

At the beginning of your journey, they can’t tell you that. All they tell you is how far you have to go, a reminder that what you have to do is so daunting that you can’t even take it in one piece. And in your head, you’ll stay the ‘big you’ until you get over the number and actually get to these points. And then, at that weight, you’ll become a ‘real person’, and you figure out how to readjust who you are so that this is your new start point.

And I guess, in the end, that’s what the goal setting is for, but it doesn’t work for me. I’ll keep going because I know that how I felt at 17 (have to get back there, 5kg difference), is only a fraction of how I’ll feel at 30-something. But instead of whether or not I reach goals, I’m going to measure my weight loss on my own personal Awesomeness. Because every step I take in the right direction makes me feel that much better.

Posted at 11:45 am | 1 Comment »

I’m pretty sure everyone has these personas. There’s sensible me, the one who makes the good decisions and plans like a fiend and always knows what the best decision is. Spontaneous me is the one who thinks it’s a great idea to spend $80 I don’t have on a bra I don’t really need, who manages to drink to much, who is highly susceptible to suggestive selling and whose most used words are “I want…”

Of course, spontaneous me is also the one who has gotten me into amazing, crazy, life changing situations, the one who manages to grab life with both hands rather than looking at the bigger picture and freaking out. Spontaneous me is the one who decided to go overseas. Sensible me is the one that got me there.

What I am surprised by is how constantly tricky the two are. It’s like my subconscious is trying to sabotage or fix me, all the time. If I forget my lunch — well, I’ll just have to buy it, says spontaneous!me. I want pizza. And maybe some chips.

But sensible me is just as tricky. I walk out of class today, toward the bus stop. I’m thirsty and also incredibly hungry. I want coke, says spontaneous me. Mmmm….coke. I’m going to die if I don’t get a coke. Just think about that sugar hit. God it’ll taste so good.

There’s four dollars in your wallet, spontaneous me whispers. And you’ve got 5 minutes before you have to catch the bus. The vending machine is so close…

I cave. I head to that vending machine, the taste of coke so ingrained in my mind that I can almost taste it already. Spontaneous me is clamouring in anticipation, while sensible me is oddly quiet. I think it’s because I’ve already given in.

Then I get to the vending machine, open my purse — and sensible me crows in triumph, because she remembered something spontaneous me did not. I emptied my wallet into my piggy bank last night. I literally do not have a single coin.

I let her have it. It’s not very often that my sensible side wins out.

Posted at 7:47 am | 1 Comment »

Not the best start to the New Year. Went to bed last night at 4-ish, though it was just a quiet one with my family. We went outside and watched the moon for a while — it was gorgeous.

Then this morning I got up, downloaded the Skinny Train challenge and decided to go for a run. iPod on, in the mood. Ready for the New Year Push! I’m running along, on my second or third lap of running, when I check my iPod and then wham! I’m on the ground. I groan and look around me. There was a pothole in the middle of the track. I check my left ankle. Can’t stand on it yet, but it’s not that bad. I’ve grazed my hand and my right knee. I sigh, sit there for another minute or so, then get up and start to walk home.

As I walk, the ache starts to dissipate. I walk faster. If I’m going to only do half a workout, I might as well make it count. Another few minutes of walking and I think it’s almost perfect. I make the mistake of trying to run. Immediately pain shoots up the back of my ankle. Possibly not the best idea. With a sigh, I walk off home, a little forlorn that this wasn’t the start I expected. And then my resolve kicks in. So what? I think. So you take a couple days without running. Such is life. This year is designed for your determination, not to give up on the first day. So I limp home, feeling hopeful, knowing I’m not going to give up just because I had a setback.

Posted at 3:34 am | No Comments »

Hit the gym yesterday, finished C25K Week 4! So I’ll start Week 5 next time I go to the gym (probably today), which is kind of cool. Did my weight circuit — I love the feeling that I’m getting stronger each time. Today I’m sore, but certainly nothing like I used to be. Before, it was all over my arms, my torso, etc. Now, it’s my torso (but not as bad as it could be) and my  upper arms/chest (really need to learn the names of these things). The former is because of the stupid crunches, which I still can’t do. The latter is because I bumped up the weight for my Lat pulldown (so maybe my…lats.?…are sore?) by 5kg because I decided it was too easy.

So I feel great! Got some good news but will wait until Sunday — my official WI day — to share it.

Did have a very sore leg last night — felt like what I was told were ‘growing pains’ as a child. Called my Mum because the pain went from the low right pelvic region, through the top of my thigh, around the knee, the back of my calf and into my ankle, and it was this weird, dull ache. I couldn’t understand why or where it comes from — although I vaguely remember this pain as something I’ve felt before. She thinks it’s to do with the Sciatic Nerve, because apparently our entire family has issues with it. Mum used to have issues with it, and my brother’s physio mentioned something about him having issues with it…until now I was never active enough to be affected, I guess. But she told me some stretches to help with it…it’s possible I just pinched the nerve.

I think when I was younger this happened quite a bit, because I do remember the pain. I know how far I’ve grown, because until now I would have gotten incredibly angry at how my body was betraying me…actually, that’s a common feeling through my childhood. But now that I’m exercising and getting to know my body, I’m learning how strong I am…and I guess also my remaining weaknesses and how to deal with them. I’m going to turn myself into Archilles, and find out how to minimise my heels..I’m going to be unstoppable!

Posted at 10:10 am | No Comments »

So yesterday was Christmas, and you know what? I don’t care what I ate. Yes, it was more that a normal day, yes, I had dessert, and I think the only low-fat thing there was the water. But the fact is that it’s not going to be repeated, and I don’t care about what I ate enough to panic over it. I enjoyed myself, but I’m done.

The women over on the Weight Watcher’s board are currently going through a blow-by-blow of everything they put in their mouths over Christmas. That’s up to them. I can understand keeping track, and I can understand being worried. But it’s not really for me. I don’t want to have a mild freak out every time I have a glass of full-fat milk. And maybe this attitude will get me where I want to go slower than they will…but to be honest, I’m okay with that too.

I guess I’m just tired of some of the attitudes at WW. The program has been great for me, it’s true. And I’m not going back to full-fat anything in the near future. But…this spiral where people are so ‘knowledgeable’, this ’support’ that comes through…this feeling that these women are ashamed about what they’ve done and have to ‘fess up’. I’m a little tired of it. I’m tired of being so pedantic. And with my going to Scotland so close around the corner, I’ve got a decision to make: do I stay with WW? Obviously I’ve cancelled my membership to the Australian Weight Watchers. But do I want to get back on that horse in Scotland? I don’t know. I almost think that I might take the tools and ignore the support. Of course, I will need to keep track — Weighing, Exercising, Eating. But I can do that alone…

I have a couple of weeks to make that decision. But I do need to make sure that I stay accountable.

Posted at 12:39 pm | No Comments »

This is a mind game. Everything to do with weight loss is, ultimately, in the mind. It took us a long time to get to the overweight point we’re at. It stands to reason that it will take a while to come off. And while it can get tiring, I have to ask myself, constantly, is this working towards my goal? Is it worth it? Sometimes it is; sometimes going over my total by a point to have a chocolate is exactly what I need to stay on track. (Isn’t it funny that I can stay on track by going off track?)

But what I’m finding hard now is not to be annoyed at people who say “I lost five kilos a couple of months ago but then I went off the rails and now I’m finding it really hard to get back into the program/focus/stay on track, and I just want to give up.” Granted, I’m generalising here, but it does frustrate me. I just want to say to them: we’ve all been there. We’ve all wanted to give up, we’ve all thought it’s too hard. But what’s the alternative? What’s the other option? The other option is to give up and accept being this heavy — or heavier — for the rest of your life. Because there’s no quick fix for me here. I don’t have a magic wand, or an amazing diet…I just have me, and my mind.

Which leads me onto the other thing that’s getting me down. There seems to be this intake (possible because of summer) of people who either a) have unrealistic expectations generally or b) watch too much ‘biggest loser’. I’ve never had a really large loss, partly because of my circumstances when I started. I’ve seen complaints about losing 1.5kg in a week — I would kill for 1.5 kg. But I can see that they’re losing faster than me, and sometimes I wonder if I’m doing something wrong or if they’re just doing something too right to sustain?

Which brings me to my final idle thought for this post: in putting together the blogroll (here), there were huge, huge numbers of blogs of people who just stopped posting. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to give up. I guess, for me, it’s about staying power. As long as those numbers go down — who cares how much they go down by, right?

100 Push Up Challenge
Level: Week Three, Day Two.
Push Ups Day 2: 51

Posted at 4:33 am | No Comments »

There’s something I always find vaguely unsettling about photos, and I’m sure that many people in my position feel it too. When I look at a photo, the outside never seems to match the inside. Inside, I’m this wonderful, attractive, bubbly and warm person — outside, I’m mostly just flabby and pale. Particularly in my face.

This dissonance is really hard to handle a lot of the time. Often it’s that which snaps us into doing something. But it’s that much harder to handle when you see a picture of yourself that you hate, and other people tell you how good you look. Because the next thought it “What do I look like most of the time?” And the answer is never encouraging.

I’m going to make a generalisation here, but I find that it’s usually my female friends who talk about how gorgeous we all look. Men, not so much. And I think the reason is this: To women, “gorgeous,” “beautiful,” “pretty,” is all as compared to what you normally look like. If you dress up nice, “Don’t you look wonderful!” And we preen and feel like we look just like them for a while and everything is just fine. But to men, all those words are usually in comparison to other women. “She’s gorgeous” they’ll say, and they’ll mean it — objectively. While women mean it subjectively — subjective to what you normally look like.

This is why, I think, for a long time I believed that I wasn’t beautiful at all. I was unattractive: full stop, end of story. The only people who complimented me were women, because they subjectively saw my beauty. But then I started looking for things I like about myself, and I saw someone with a good bone structure, with a nice body shape, with lovely skin and pretty eyes. And I realised that the only thing stopping the objective beauty was how much excess weight I carried.

So now when I see a picture that I hate but that others decree is gorgeous, I don’t get all defensive and feel like shit for days — I smile and thank them. Because my friends are seeing my beauty long before I really see it, and long before it becomes ‘objective’. Particularly as these girls notice my changes along the way.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is: Accept the compliment, don’t think about what you think of the person behind it (yourself). It is tough, and sometimes I do get frustrated, because I know that objectively, I’m not attractive. But I’m also learning that, as a person, I am subjectively wonderful — and one day, those two worlds will collide.

Posted at 8:52 pm | No Comments »

So following a thread in the forums, I’m going to write a list of everything single thing I can come up with:

Things I Love About Myself

• My sense of fair play
• My ability to have a joke
• My hair. (Because it’s nice and fine and always soft.)
• My eye colour. (Blue)
• My skin (because it’s nice to me and is very rarely splotchy.)
• The fact that even at my largest, I had a waist.
• The way I try to see the best in people.
• My loyalty.
• My breasts (*Ahem.* A little revealing, but true.)
• Three dark freckles on my collarbone that remind me of Orion’s belt.
• My passion
• My dedication.
• My skill with make up.

…That’s all I can think of for now. But it’s enough to feel good.

Today I didn’t get up for breakfast, and I’ve realised how much harder it is to get each of my goals (Vegetables, Calcium, etc). And it made me realise how much my focus has changed. Yes, I still really, really care about losing weight (obviously), but more than that, I’ve broken my day down into little itty bits: have I had enough calcium? Vegetables? Water? Am I under my points? And so I can take it day by day and honestly believe at the end that I’ll lose weight. Ka-ching.

Posted at 2:56 am | No Comments »

So after the successes yesterday morning I went a little overboard. Mum made biscuits and I had about five, which was a little silly, and then we had steak and chips for dinner. It means that I’ll spend this week making up for it, although with the exercise I’d already done I was up 12 ‘points’, and now I need to have 3.5 to take me back to zero. I regret that I ate so many biscuits, because mostly it was because they were there, but I don’t regret the chips. I just don’t want to be one of those people who become so obsessive about it and decide that they can’t do anything when they have a little blowout — and then they drop the entire program. I like eating what I want, and I’m not going to apologise if I eat Red Rooster or McDonalds or fast food every so often. Because I enjoy it. That said, I do want to curb my impulses and stick to just one treat. So I suppose I’ll have to work on that.

Other news today; I went to Amart All Sports for their ‘Mega 30% Off Sale’ (imagine over-excited voice over here), mostly because my exercise pants are becoming a little too a) big and b) worn out. So I went and bought two tops and two pairs of pants, which should work very nicely. I guess they’re a bit of a treat for getting to 5kg, a sort of non-food reward. I’m also excited because I’m officially a size 16. I have gone down an entire size from when I started. I can’t wait until I hit size 14 — I don’t remember being that small in my life. At least not during or after high school.

I guess that’s one of the reasons I find it so hard to ‘visualise’ my end goal…because I’ve never been there. Lots of people have a dress they want to fit back into, or a picture from when they were younger and so on. I have none of that. None that’s realistic, anyway. It gets hard sometimes to motivate myself because of that, but one of the ways I’m overcoming that is by focusing on the numbers, and how novel it will be to get to that point. I don’t remember being under 90kgs. I just don’t. And I’m so focused on getting to the 89.9 mark, to the point where it is an 8 in front, it’s a motivator in itself. And I’m so close — I’m only 4.4 kilograms away. And once I get there, I’m only 5 kilograms away from being 85.9, and then only five kilograms away from being 79.9, and then not far from 60kg, my ultimate goal.

But for now, I have to concentrate on getting under 90. Because that’s important to me, and if I can do that I’ll inspire myself to do the rest. At the moment, the rest just seems so hard, so far away. So I’ll concentrate on 89.9kg, because I can do that. I know I can do that.

Posted at 3:22 am | No Comments »