The Belly, it Grows.

Blech. Pregnancy. I'm not as easy-going this time about what is going into my mouth as the last 2. I've been feeling like every time I eat more than I needed to or every time my pants get a little tighter it's been a personal failure. Not that I expected to not gain weight, sure I knew I would, I just wasn't planning on it being quite so quickly. Third pregnancies though, it shows up faster, at least that's what they tell me and it's been true so far. With my first I just thought, well, I've been starving for 12 years, time to eat... and eat I did, never thinking it would be hard to lose. I was pregnant with my second before I'd lost all the weight, though I'd been working (sort of) on eating normally. I lost the weight after he was born but I didn't go about it in the healthiest way. In fact I lost lots and lots of weight and I think I looked pretty good, only I felt like hell. So I started to gain it back... I didn't gain it all back and but I was struggling and it was creeping. Now here I am pregnant again and a bit obsessed about what my weight is doing instead of just enjoying what's happening.

That is not good.

I need to put my fear about it aside. I've been afraid of gaining so much weight and having so much weight to lose and not being able to do it. I'm afraid I will always eat too much, that my appetite won't regulate. That I won't be able to stop eating, move on and live my life, thin.

There. That's my big fear. Now for the counter-argument: I am eating more normally than I ever have before. I actually forgot about a cake in the fridge. I stop when I'm full. I think about other things. When October comes, I will be able to deal with the weight. I will also have this many more months of eating normally under my belt that will help me to feel not so lost. I will actually be just fine. I'm also not alone, I have the Expert and the fabulous Mr. Bean to help me. I can handle it, I have before. Starving, bingeing, purging, those are all behaviors in my past, but they are not true for me anymore. If I live in the present, I will have no problem with it. There is no deprivation to be afraid of and there is no pressure or judgement from the outside world to be worried of. I am, in fact, immune to other people's judgement of me. It doesn't change how I feel about myself one way of another. I'll be fine. I'm doing fine.

Deep breath. It's okay. Really, it is.

Experts and Babies

I said I'd post about The Expert and I have not. But here it is:

She's an Expert, so surely she knows what she is doing, right? But the big fat question remains: Do I know what I'm doing? Well, no, I don't. But I'm trying. I ditched the food log. That thing was a pain in my bottom and I'm not sure it helped much. I've talked to The Expert twice now and a few things stand out. The first and most important thing I've learned is that I'm not as food-goofy as I thought I was. As it turns out, normal eating, normal behavior is all relative, and I'm... related, hehe. I had no idea what 'normal' eaters do. I do perfectly normal things.. for me. And that's fine.

There's things I do that I don't want to do and I am paying much more attention to these behaviors, thanks in part to The Expert and I have to say... it's working. It helps not to think in terms of doing things normal/not normal. It's just behavior, non-judged, neutral behavior. Some of it I'd like to change because it's not helping me achieve what I want to achieve, and I'm plodding along. Some days suck out loud, some are pretty good. So. Yay.

Here's some other, random weird things going on...

I'm pregnant. Yup. That's right. Over 8 weeks now. Who knew that was possible? So how does this affect my food-goofiness? It changes my appetite, but not in the way I expected. I don't have morning sickness, though I get a little green around the gills now and again. I can't eat as much as I thought I would be able to and I'm really sensitive to being too full. I don't actually like being full.

What??

I really thought all those years of bingeing I was an endless pit. I thought I craved that stuffed full feeling and that I couldn't be trusted around food alone because I'd never get enough.

And it's just not true. I don't like feeling full. When I allow myself to eat enough, which I really have to do now because I'm pregnant and when I'm hungry it feels urgent, I don't crave that super-full feeling. In fact, when I eat to that extent, I regret it. I feel horrible. That's not to say I only did it once and decided I'd never eat to that full again... Nooo... I tested the theory quite a few times before I was able to say definitively that I do not like it. And I still now and again test it. It takes attention and awareness. It takes fight. This is the hardest, scariest thing I've ever done. But I'm determined. I will be a normal eater.

I need to be honest, and being honest requires me to admit that I am scared to death of the weight I will gain because I'm pregnant. I don't want to gain (and therefore have to lose) a whole lot of weight. But I'm handling it one meal, one panic attack at a time. I also know, that come October, when my 3rd bundle of love hits the earth, I will be at least 80% a confident, normal eater. My birthday is in December and for reasons unknown to me, I feel in my bones that this is the year I say goodbye to my eating disorder.

A quick note about The Expert: One of the things she reminds me of is that a lot of my eating behavior stems from my past restricting/bingeing years- which I no longer do- so essentially I am reacting now when I eat past satisfied, to a memory of deprivation and fear, not my current reality. One of the biggest challenges in all of this is staying here, in the present, in my current life, with my current way of thinking and goals and visions of life. I'm not that other person anymore. I'm me now, not me then.

Sybill and the mermaid?

Tomorrow I talk to the expert- you know the one who's going to shed light on my food weirdness. She's real and she's going to talk to me. She doesn't think it's strange that my mouth has a mind of its own. This whole day has been bathed in m&ms. It was me who said she wasn't that into chocolate, right? How many times do I get to eat too much chocolate, say "it was the weirdest thing, I don't even really like chocolate.." before that's just a big fat lie? I guess what I really mean is that chocolate doesn't have a hold on me. There's a commercial that says "do you dream in chocolate?" which is a totally ridiculous thing to say, but no, I don't. I dream in water.

And that's not a totally ridiculous thing to say? How did you ever sleep more than one night if you were in water, you ask? Wouldn't you have drowned? Were you saved by mermaids?

Well, yes. I was.

But what I mean is, every dream I can remember the next day has water in it. It can be rain or a puddle, but usually it's a big crashing wave breaking too high up on the beach, or the rocks, on the pier, and once in my bedroom, and carrying me out with it. Sometimes I'm reaching to save my children, and I'm glad to say, in each dream with them, I always manage to save them. In more than one dream I tried to save my younger sister. We'll call her.... Sybill. And unfortunately, I always woke up before she made it ashore. She's a tough one for me. We used to be close, or pretend like we were, but it was always me listening to her talk about...her. She looked to me like a big sister, which I was, but not in the normal, respectful way. More in the way that she always assumed that I could only listen and not really understand because I was well, not beautiful. I was grossly thin. When I gained weight and looked normal, she didn't want my advice anymore. I felt like she always felt competition with me. She would say things like "men love me" and talk about the oh so extra special things people say to her. I mostly remember her being very mean to me. Like she would go out of her way to say things that were hurtful, because if we were as close as she claimed we were, she'd know my weak spots and would avoid them. Only that's not what she did. She went for the weak spots. She acted like she was in competition with me. And that she was pretty sure she was winning. Whatever winning meant.

To be fair, the competition I felt coming off her sparked something in me that I suddenly felt I was supposed to prove something to her. Prove that I was pretty, or that men liked me, or that I was smart, a good mother, a lot of fun. I dropped it though. She can win if she wants because I don't feel like I have that much to prove anymore.

The hardest part of my relationship with my younger sister is that she reminds me of my father. It's the mustache. haha.

What it really is, is the begging for acceptance. My constant effort to win their love and approval. I will never be good enough for my father, but in a way it's okay because I'm beginning to learn how to meet him where he is ('beginning' is the operative). As far as Sybill goes, she doesn't want to know me if I actually am good enough because then I become something of a threat, and though I kind of get why, I am after all from the same family, it's not an excuse anymore, and I'm old enough to chose who I say no to. I'm not sure where this idea came from that we have to be worthy of anything, especially love (or attention, pretty things, or an extra piece of pie, or sex, or sleep- the sleep one goes with food for me, but that's another post) but it's a racket. Of course we're worthy. Why wouldn't we be? Silliness to be sure.

Well, this is not where I meant to go at all. I meant to say, oh yay. I get to bend the ear of an expert tomorrow. And then there is was, daddy issues and sister issues and bears, oh my.

I just might regret posting this. Fortunately, once it's on the internet, it's not forever, right?!

If we can't be honest with perfect strangers, who can we be honest with?

So I'll post about the expert this week. I hope it goes well, but you know how these things go... the answer truly is always in us.

A long long time

My my it has been a long time, hasn't it? I haven't really dropped off the flat edge of the earth, I've been writing and hanging around other places. But I decided tonight to drop in. It's already January 22nd. I know, and I don't know why I know, I just know that this is the last year I struggle with weight and food. Okay, that's not quite what I mean, but I know that by the time my next birthday rolls around, I will be in a much more secure place with this. It's been a rough few weeks with food. Or not with food, but with me and my attitude toward food (the attitude that says if I don't acknowledge it then I didn't eat it). Ah, sweet denial. I did eat it. I know I did because my pants are tight. And by some miracle of cupcakes, my bras got tighter. Not that I wanted them to, I rather like not being built like a porn star. Not that I am now. Are there porn stars over 35? I don't want to know. I don't want this to turn into a post about porn. But speaking of porn, if I were a porn star, at least you'd know 2 things: 1) that the stars really are over 18 (I never trust the companies) and 2) they don't photoshop. Haha. And you'd also figure out that I've never really watched one. Well, I did, but it didn't quite have the intended affect. Ew. Enough of that.
Well, back to it, now. So, after a whole bunch of swearing at myself and judgement and calling myself names I'd never say to another human being (or little furry creature for that matter), I asked myself what I would do if I truly wanted to change my relationship to food. The two things I came up with was seek expert help and being grossly honest about what I am actually doing. So, as far as the expert, I found her. She has a plan. She has done this and helps others do this. And as far as being honest, here I am and I am also going to approach the fabulous Mr. Bean for an ear and his ability to read to keep me honest and accountable. Not these pages, though, he gets food logs and other whining. I love him. His patience is astounding. I don't know if this comes across, but I am uptight and often difficult :). See, denial is starting to dissipate already.
Oh, by the way, I just ate my weight in cheese and hazel nuts. I'm going to regret that in a minute.

Sugar. Aw honey honey

I cannot eat sugar. I want to eat sugar. I want to eat lots and lots of it, in fact. But see that is precisely the problem here. I've known this about me for a good few years- that if I eat a bit of sugar or even some white bread, all day long I eat eat eat. I was actually just hoping that it was part of my weird eating thing and not some kind of horrible chemical imbalance that takes away great pleasure in life. So, in an effort to not eat weird, I called off "forbidden" foods and I ate (mostly) what I really wanted. I made a fruit tart (one of the evils of my ironic life is that I'm a pretty good cook and baking is what I like to do most) for my beloved Mr. Bean (who ate almost the whole thing by the end of the day) and I pilfered a blueberry and a few strawberries here and there. Then I took a few tastes of the filling- you know, just to be sure it was okay- and then I had some pretzels, which I'd been staying away from. Then later some black jelly beans, which are my favorite. By the end of the day, I'd eaten 1/4 bag of chocolate morsels, a boatload of pretzels, saltines with jam and Lucky Charms (they really are magically delicious).
Thus, I conclude, that sugar is not good for me. Oh, and now, this morning, I can't get my ring off my finger because I am puffed up like a cartoon cat in a dryer. And I slept terribly.

So, what should I do? I want to eat like a normal person, but sugar does a number on me. I certainly don't think how I ate and with the sheer drive that I ate it, is normal by any standards. But this happens every time I eat sugar. So that I don't end up feeling deprived and bingeing on it, I'm putting sugar in the catagory that it is something I need to avoid, but in order to protect me, not to punish me. If it makes me feel this bad and it does wacky things to my body, or more likely, to my brain, then I can deem it just not good for me, hopefully making it easier to make the choice to not put it in my face. In truth, I do not want to eat all day, especially eat crap all day, so if I refuse that first taste of sugar (or white flour- as it has the same effect on me), then all I'm really doing is taking a stand for myself, in my honor, taking care of me. Then it doesn't feel like I'm in diet hell and depriving myself of all life's little indulgences.
What sucks even more than bingeing on sugar and craving it all day? The next day I crave it too. It takes a couple days to get the effect to wear off. So I'm in for it today, but I can handle it. It's 5:30 in the morning, and I can say that what I really want to do is eat the rest of the chocolate morsels in the freezer. I am not hungry in the slightest and I won't eat them, instead I'll hop on my stationary bike and hopefully sweat out some of this water I'm packing all over me.
Not for nothing, but it feels a little pathetic to be drawn to food instead of something understandable like cocaine or even sex. It feels gluttonous, whereas a regular addiction does not. No one makes fun of an alcoholic for being a gluttonous pig when they drink too much, but if the desire is cake, it's somehow much more shameful. Ah, but shame is a topic for another post.

Holy Hormones, Batman

Whew! Well thank God I was diagnosed with PMDD. I thought I was just a weeping hot mess because I was nuts. PMDD is like PMS on steroids. Twice a month, during ovulation and again before my period is due, I go absolutely batshit psycho. The two driving emotions are anger and depression. Really really bad depression. Bad enough that I sought out help for it. I am now the proud owner of a bottle of anti-depressants. I really hope this works. I've tried them before and while some worked, they also made me bruise really bad. I would have black and blue marks all over like I'd been beaten with a stick. If I really had been beaten with a stick I would have probably bled to death because apparently my blood flowed a little too freely on this particular medication. Others just plain did not work. But I have high hopes for this one. Twice a month I feel like I'm crazy. Like I'm watching things happening and I have no control to stop it, just shutting my mouth and not screaming like a maniac is a battle I lose.

And then there's the food. All my work to stay on the food straight and narrow is tossed out the window at the first hint of hormones. Suddenly, I want chocolate (I'm not really much of a chocolate person normally) and gummi bears and peanuts (nuts are something I don't keep in the house anymore-they seem to magically evaporate from the jar and reappear on my ass). I know most women get cravings and often indulge them, but for me, I don't know if they are stronger than other women's, but because so much of my self-esteem or self-worth or whatever you want to call it, is wrapped up in my ability to control what goes into my mouth, giving in to a craving sets off this whole chain reaction of self-loathing and feelings of failure and hopelessness that tailspins me into a binge. And that. Must. Stop.

In other crappy food news: I found out that all calories count. Duh, right? But even those oh-so-good-for-you cauliflower calories count. There is no free lunch. And I'd been cheating without knowing it. As it turns out, I have to pay better attention to my portions, even zucchini portions, as if you eat 200 calories of zucchini, you have still eaten 200 calories. That totally sucks out loud. But I'm ready to eat like a normal person, even if I don't exactly know what that means. I've been tossing around the idea while still tracking everything I eat, maybe dropping the diet part of it. Still stay within calorie limits so I can lose those extra pounds but maybe not only eat egg whites and tuna. In other words, not feel so deprived and diet-y. Because I want to feel like the rest of the world and not live in fear of cookies. And frankly, I don't want to be able to eat an entire head of cauliflower. That's a weird thing to do, isn't it?
But to put this out there, I am very afraid. It scares the hell out of me to trust that my body knows what it is doing and my brain needs to shut up for a while. Anyway, more on this later.

Living hand to mouth

I haven't had artificial sweeteners in 2 weeks, so, yay me! I feel a lot better. Weirdly, I have more energy now, even though there isn't a steady stream of caffeine flowing through my veins. More importantly, I feel less depressed. Well, I did, that is, until my lady-cycle (for all you squeamish ones!) came in and wreaked havoc on my brain, that is. Then, I puffed up a few water pounds, yelled at a doctor, a pharmacy tech, said ugly things to a cat, and made fun a stranger. To be topped off with thoughts of the general gloom that is life and I ate a whole day's worth of calories. Extra. In one sitting. Then went to bed.

Uh. Yeah. I'm not proud of any of those things. I feel like I'm going crazy sometimes. Not sometimes, twice a month. I can almost count on it. But the appetite. Oh. My. God. Nothing was safe. I knew I didn't want to eat that much. I knew I'd regret it. I had been doing so well, even tracking what I ate, which I loathe to do. I was going to skip typing this binge into the food tracking program, in case the internet food police looked at it and decided to arrest me and take my fridge into protective custody, but decided on doing it so I could see it and hopefully it will make me think twice the next time I want to take advantage of my kitchen's giving nature.

I'm a little ashamed of how I ate. I think the hardest part to get my brain around (besides that all that food got crammed into my gut and actually fit. Talk about 10lbs of potatoes in a 5lb bag), is that the whole time I was thinking about how much I really didn't want to do this and how I would regret this, I would be bloated the next morning, I will most likely gain weight from this, it is setting me a step back in my quest to balance out my weight and get rid of sugar cravings. That eating white flour screws up my appetite even the next day... The reasons to STOP EATING NOW were endless, yet on and on I went, hand to mouth to sack of food to hand to mouth to sack of food. Until I truly thought you could see cereal squares and doughnut holes floating in my eyes. So I went to bed. And before I fell asleep, I thought, oh, I wish I hadn't used all the chocolate chips in the boys' pancakes this morning, I sure could use some. WTF?

So, I'm trying not to beat myself up about it and to move on, make better decisions today. What is so scary is that the potential to do it again is always there. I feel like I can't trust myself to stay in bed tonight and ride out the urge to eat, because I didn't last night and it wasn't like that was the first night it has ever happened. It scares the shit out of me, to be perfectly honest. So, here's what I will do today: I will eat as normally as possible- when (if, jeez) I get hungry. I will make sure that at dinner I have more protein so it sticks with me better (yesterday I had almost none with dinner) and restate the rule I used to live by, which is, I don't eat after dinner, I certainly do not get out of bed to eat. Not ever.
I know this last thing sounds weird, but I used to get up and eat at night and one night I just put some limitations on myself, and lo and behold, it worked. I think, eating, like with any other behaviors (like yelling at the pharmacy staff, for instance), there has to be some boundaries and rules to follow for civility and sanity's sake. One of them for me happens to be that I do not eat after dinner and I do not get out of bed to eat. I realize that most people don't have to make a rule about staying in bed and not stuffing their pie holes, but I do. So, okay, I have a few limitations I have to set on myself that are weird to you, but not to me, it's just what I need.
So, I will try to eat when I'm hungry today and resist the urge to skip meals to undo some of last night's damage, I will be more conscious of what I am eating to satisfy my hunger. And I will not under any circumstances, get out of bed to eat tonight. okay. wish me luck.