Russiandoll
Carpe diem
I was chatting with someone yesterday and what we were talking about made me think. We were talking about our perception of other people who have managed to lose weight and what it is that 'flicks that switch' so we can join their ranks. What keeps us going 'this time' when we've given up so many times in the past?
I know the feeling well. I've often felt like the kid outside the sweet shop with my nose pressed against the glass ... all those women smiling out at me from the glossy pages of a slimming magazine, who'd lost vast amounts of weight and were leading happy and fulfilled lives and I would never be one of them (or so I thought).
To a certain extent, I still don't preceive myself as one of 'those women' because I still haven't reached my goal and there's always that element of self-doubt ... I've done well up til now but I'm 'bound to fail' because i always have in the past. This is a battle with my own head that I have to fight every day.
Last weekend, I really thought I'd lost the plot as the old chatterboxes and the old 'me' emerged. For six months I'd been 'saintly' and then on Friday night, for some reason unbeknown to me, I picked up a chocolate penguin biscuit from the packed lunch basket in the kitchen, unwrapped it and ate in in three bites.
I shocked myself and though 'blast - what have you done??' Now, if I'd left it there, no great harm would have been done but no - I thought 'You've had one - you might as well have two'. So I did. Then I felt weak willed so I had another. Then I felt weak AND a failure .... my chatterbox was screaming in my ear by this time 'SEE? SEE? YOU CAN'T STICK AT ANYTHING!!!' And so I went on to eat SIX penguins on the trot.
So you see, the demons still lurk there - I can't let my guard down at all. I can't be complacent for one minute.
I felt very down and a bit shell-shocked (as well as nauseous at that much chocolate & sugar!). Anyway, I spent a day or so wallowing in self-pity before picking myself up, dusting myself down, giving myself a swift kick up the backside and carrying on.
I thought long and hard about my situation and remembered something I posted months and months ago. It went like this.
ALL of us have but THREE options when it comes to our weight. It's up to us to CHOOSE one of the options - and we must be clear that the option we end up with is one that we have CHOSEN. This is the 'chat' I gave myself.
Option 1 - The ostrich:
Put your head in the sand - say 'blow it all' - eat what you want and continue to gain and gain and gain.
Is this the option you want to choose? If yes - then choose it and don't moan about the consequences of your choice. If no - go to option 2.
Option 2 - The pivot:
Decide that you're happy with your weight and choose to maintain. You do this by hovering above and below your pivot - just 'being careful' about what you eat and keeping an eye on it. Is this the option you want to choose? If yes then do it and don't moan about your maintained weight: you have CHOSEN to stay there. If no - go to option 3.
Option 3 - The mountaineer:
You are not happy with your weight and want to do something about it. You take a deep breath and begin to scale that mountain step by step. If you slip and fall a few feet, you gather yourself together and carry on climbing. The important thing is not to abandon the mountain for the sake of a slip of a few feet.
The ropes attaching you to the mountain is the support you get from those around you - you can also choose to cut those and go it alone - but you're more likely to fall completely off the mountain if you do.
Is this the option you want to choose? Then do it. If not - then see options 1 and 2.
I have chosen option 3. Like a reluctant, bratty child, I've forced myself to accept that I have no other choice: I'm not happy to compromise and maintain where I am (although I've done pretty well - I'm still not where I want to be) and option 1 is absolutely out of the question. Much as I WANT the pizza, the chocolate, the pastries, eating them in the way I used to will fast track me back to a grim and painful place.
I can say "it's not fair - why can't I eat like Tom, Dick & Harry" until I'm blue in the face - fact is I can't and eating like them won't alter that fact - I'll gain weight - they won't. It sucks but there it is. Having cast off my resentful head and replaced it with my accepting one, I'm making headway at last.
Now I've got that epic novel off my chest (you've probably fallen asleep at the keyboard!) I'll wish you a great day!
I know the feeling well. I've often felt like the kid outside the sweet shop with my nose pressed against the glass ... all those women smiling out at me from the glossy pages of a slimming magazine, who'd lost vast amounts of weight and were leading happy and fulfilled lives and I would never be one of them (or so I thought).
To a certain extent, I still don't preceive myself as one of 'those women' because I still haven't reached my goal and there's always that element of self-doubt ... I've done well up til now but I'm 'bound to fail' because i always have in the past. This is a battle with my own head that I have to fight every day.
Last weekend, I really thought I'd lost the plot as the old chatterboxes and the old 'me' emerged. For six months I'd been 'saintly' and then on Friday night, for some reason unbeknown to me, I picked up a chocolate penguin biscuit from the packed lunch basket in the kitchen, unwrapped it and ate in in three bites.
I shocked myself and though 'blast - what have you done??' Now, if I'd left it there, no great harm would have been done but no - I thought 'You've had one - you might as well have two'. So I did. Then I felt weak willed so I had another. Then I felt weak AND a failure .... my chatterbox was screaming in my ear by this time 'SEE? SEE? YOU CAN'T STICK AT ANYTHING!!!' And so I went on to eat SIX penguins on the trot.
So you see, the demons still lurk there - I can't let my guard down at all. I can't be complacent for one minute.
I felt very down and a bit shell-shocked (as well as nauseous at that much chocolate & sugar!). Anyway, I spent a day or so wallowing in self-pity before picking myself up, dusting myself down, giving myself a swift kick up the backside and carrying on.
I thought long and hard about my situation and remembered something I posted months and months ago. It went like this.
ALL of us have but THREE options when it comes to our weight. It's up to us to CHOOSE one of the options - and we must be clear that the option we end up with is one that we have CHOSEN. This is the 'chat' I gave myself.
Option 1 - The ostrich:
Put your head in the sand - say 'blow it all' - eat what you want and continue to gain and gain and gain.
Is this the option you want to choose? If yes - then choose it and don't moan about the consequences of your choice. If no - go to option 2.
Option 2 - The pivot:
Decide that you're happy with your weight and choose to maintain. You do this by hovering above and below your pivot - just 'being careful' about what you eat and keeping an eye on it. Is this the option you want to choose? If yes then do it and don't moan about your maintained weight: you have CHOSEN to stay there. If no - go to option 3.
Option 3 - The mountaineer:
You are not happy with your weight and want to do something about it. You take a deep breath and begin to scale that mountain step by step. If you slip and fall a few feet, you gather yourself together and carry on climbing. The important thing is not to abandon the mountain for the sake of a slip of a few feet.
The ropes attaching you to the mountain is the support you get from those around you - you can also choose to cut those and go it alone - but you're more likely to fall completely off the mountain if you do.
Is this the option you want to choose? Then do it. If not - then see options 1 and 2.
I have chosen option 3. Like a reluctant, bratty child, I've forced myself to accept that I have no other choice: I'm not happy to compromise and maintain where I am (although I've done pretty well - I'm still not where I want to be) and option 1 is absolutely out of the question. Much as I WANT the pizza, the chocolate, the pastries, eating them in the way I used to will fast track me back to a grim and painful place.
I can say "it's not fair - why can't I eat like Tom, Dick & Harry" until I'm blue in the face - fact is I can't and eating like them won't alter that fact - I'll gain weight - they won't. It sucks but there it is. Having cast off my resentful head and replaced it with my accepting one, I'm making headway at last.
Now I've got that epic novel off my chest (you've probably fallen asleep at the keyboard!) I'll wish you a great day!
