This Time

Markovian Theory: Nude Vegetarianism
Mark loves meat. Any meat. Three times per day. Just the mention of a meal based around vegetables makes him crazy. And...I am thinking about radically switching the way we eat. In trying to gently break the potential change to him I mentioned I had ordered the book, "The New Vegetarian." I was in the laundry room and was sort of hollering this information to him in the kitchen. A couple of minutes after my announcement he came roaring around the corner with a big smile on his face. "That will be great," he enthused, "when do we start?" I was taken aback and said I had to get the book first. "Can't be soon enough for me," he said. I was dumbfounded. "You mean you won't mind giving up meat three times a day," I asked? "Not with those rewards," he responded with a wink. "What rewards," I enquired, thinking about weight loss and increased energy? "You in the buff with a bowl of beans. I could even learn to like broccoli." ...sigh

This time I am going to eat more fruit, vegetables, flour and dairy. I have been terrified of carbs. I was sure they were going to send my blood sugar soaring and guarantee fat storage. Mebbe so. I don't know yet. But I do know I am sick and tired of a mainly low carb lifestyle. And I am eating carbs. Baaaad carbs. If I am going to eat them anyway why not try a diet composed of healthy ones? I will keep you posted how this all works out. But, the point of this post isn't about our new diet life style. It's about the fact that I believed I shouldn't even attempt a new lifestyle.

I believed that because I had lost weight on my low carbish food plan I should continue to use that plan. But my weight loss STOPPED two years ago and I have been slowly gaining ever since. For one whole day I was down to 179, and then the engine reversed directions. A couple of weeks ago I weighed 202. As y'all know I have struggled to stay on course with my same food plan but my heart has not been in it since we moved up here. I know it is a great food plan and that some people stick with it for life. But I am not going to be one of those people. And I have felt like a failure. Again.

If this is such a great plan, why can't I stick with it? Because it is not new and fun anymore. I know it by heart. I like new and interesting stuff and I am bored to tears with my food. And I believe this to be bad. Very bad. I am a food flibbertigibbet. I was brought up to believe that if something is successful only an irresponsible idiot attempts to change it. Who wants to be an irresponsible idiot?

I also am convinced about the science behind increased dietary protein and reduced carbs. The more protein you eat the more fat you burn. Carbs cause increased insulin output and fat storage. End of story. Who but an idiot would willingly go against science?

As God is my witness, "I am that idiot," to paraphrase Gomez Adams.

I have a renewed sense of adventure about trying a lacto-ovo vegetarian diet. Will be new and fun, and healthy, I hope. If it doesn't work at least I will have had a good time experimenting.

To reiterate my point, if it ain't working stop 'it' and try something new. It is okay to be a food flibbertigibbet. While you are at it, be a flibbertigibbet in other areas too. Nude vegetarianism anyone?

Take care, Bea.

Me vs. Them

I am struggling with priorities. I don't want to do nuthin for nobody. And I am ashamed of this.

Vickie had a great post about "Focus and Clarity" on 3-18-09 that confused the heck out of me. She then followed this up with a discussion on 3-19 about "priorities." Still no light for me. I am a master at prioritizing everything that does not have to do with emotions. I don't always adhere to my priorities, but I am in no doubt about them except when I am forced to choose between something I want and something "they" want. I do usually manage to follow my own desires by (let's get real) lying and or avoidance. Then I feel massively guilty for not wanting to help, for not helping and for being dishonest.

Why don't I want to help? Because I feel taken advantage of. Like I have a finite amount of energy and when I expend it on "you" then I have less for me. Sucked dry and spat out. This is not the loving world view I believe in. I want to want to help. I want to be compassionate. I want to love as I have been loved.

Why don't I help? I do alot of the time. But I resent it and I gripe about it. I have stuff of my own I want to get done and I can't do it if I am out and about helping "you." I feel like I never can get my own stuff done at my own pace. I need to hurry up and get it finished so that I can be available when "you" need me. I resent this and so procrastinate about tackling my projects. Then I go out to help and hate it because my own house needs cleaning and I am spending time helping you clean "yours."

Why am I dishonest? Because if I said, "Don't bug me until I want contact," I would have no relationships at all. Most people like much more contact than do I. I don't know if I have intimacy problems or I am just a loner by nature. I am happy seeing husband and pets daily, people at church once a week and most friends and relatives quarterly. I am also very serious. I read and ruminate about the meaning of life. Long conversations about inconsequentials just bore the heck out of me. I do like to lunch and gossip. I used to love to go out and dance and drink with friends on Friday nights. I like to shop. Has just dawned on me that in the past few years I have been trying to have relationships with people with whom I have little in common. The people I want to have frequent contact with are the people I s-l-o-w-l-y befriend who share my interests. These friendships are harder to come by now that I am no longer employed.

Okay that was all very enlightening. What I learned.
1. I do not want to expend gobs of my time on superficial (for me) acquaintances.
a. I am not obligated to care about everyone as deeply as they might seem to care about me.
2. I am not someones entertainment when they are bored.
a. I do not have to stop vacuuming and spend time talking to someone every time they are caught in a traffic jam with six kids in the car.
3. I need to deliberately seek out and spend time with those people with whom I think I might have have much in common.
4. I do not need to give bunches to time to people who are not at all interested in me. See #2
5. My husband is very considerate.
6. I am not always a dumping ground for unpleasant emotions. I can say, "Okay that's enough of that, let's talk about something more cheerful."
7. These insights and my consequent actions are going to make some people angry. I need to be prepared for the anger and not cave in.

Thanks Dr. Freuds, this has been a valuable session. Take care of yourselves. Bea

Sleep Walking In Heaven

I think I may be a new woman. I look the same but I sure don't feel the same. This transformation could be due to a few things.
1. Estrogen
2. Walking
3. God

About that estrogen. Damn it's good to sleep all night. No more wandering around the house eating carbs the whole live long night. No more wandering around the house all day eating carbs because I was up wandering around all night. No more night sweats. I can sleep in one nightgown per night. No more hot flashes. Husband says this is the first time all winter his feet have warmed up. (I kept the heat at 67 degrees.) My skin looks younger. I have hope again.

About that walking. We started walking outside in the dead dark mornings a couple of weeks ago. We walk for two miles. The dog runs for six. I had forgotten how much I love to walk out of doors. I have been walking on the treadmill intermittently all winter. I hate it. But outside my heart sings with each gasping breath. (I'm way out of shape.) I have walking accoutrements for all seasons except deep winter. This oversight always puts me indoors for three or four months. Not so next year. We are getting snowshoes and poles with our tax return money. Vive la stomping. I have hope again.

About that God. I believe in generational curses. "Sins of the fathers" is another way of phrasing it. Junk passed on through the generations because no one ever draws a line in sand and says, "With God's help this stops here." The other morning I prayed a prayer with Joyce Meyer about being delivered from generational curses. I am claiming the promise of that prayer. God is delivering me from the sins of my fore-parents. I do not need to go about burdened down with the results of my family's sins. As I will allow God is willing to lift this load off of me. I am praying for discernment in how to go about shrugging off the weight. I have hope.

Take care of yourselves. Love Bea

Fat Head

I am a big thinker. I analyze everything. I spend much time thinking about fat. Too much time. I am obsessed with it. My whole life is overlaid with fat thoughts. Is this healthy? ...I think not.

Almost my every movement is encompassed by how fat I am. Showering and dressing are the worst times but I can also make a fat fest out of pooper scooping. For instance, it is cold here this a.m., 10 degrees. So of course I had to put on all my winter gear before I could go out to dig for dog poop. I could not get one of my boots zipped. In zero seconds I decided the reason the boot would not zip was because I had gained weight in my ankles. And then I felt bad. Real bad. Like what is the point of living bad. All this immediate angst over a stuck zipper. My point is, I engage in this sort of thinking continuously. No wonder not even massive doses of estrogen can cheer me up. Who could be cheery being told once a minute they are a fat cow? I have to stop it.

Why am I doing this? Punishment. Self punishment negates the fat. Don't ask me why this works, it just does. Maybe I also think if I make myself miserable enough it will motivate me to lose weight. Hasn't worked yet. Alrighty then, what is my plan of action?

I can choose what I think. I have encouraged the "fat toad" thoughts for so long they now come unbidden. But...I don't have to indulge them once they arise. I can stop the thought in its tracks and think about something else. For instance, after putting on my excrement excavating outfit I glanced in the mirror. I have a close fitting pink knit cap with ear flaps. "I look like a fat Tibetan monk" I thought. For a change I recognized the nastiness of the remark, and, decided to do something about it. I looked myself straight in the eye and said, "That remark was unjustified and mean. Please forgive me." "Okay" I said "but don't do it again."

I foresee I may be apologizing to myself a million times a day for a while. That's okay. I deserve it. I have to atone for forty years of insults. I am not ignoring the problem of my overeating. But, calling myself creative awful names has never motivated me to lose one ounce and has in fact had just the opposite effect. "Lardo toado" just discourages me.

I have a visceral resistance to looking anything more than just clean when I am fatter. I almost cannot force myself to put on makeup and nice earrings if I am not thinner. "Lardo toado" and this reaction are part and parcel of the same thing I now see. I do not deserve to be continually insulted and I do not deserve to be made to look and feel like a frump. I have a right to be treated decently and I have a right to look and feel like a "Girl" if I so choose. So there Punishing Self.

I think I have had a break through. (A deer just ran down the road. It was being chased by a flock of pigeons.) I am grateful.

Is this self care? I think so. Love Bea

P.S. Estrogen is working. No hot flashes, no night sweats, no crying jags, better skin and sleeping all night. The whole patch was too much estrogen, so being no respecter of medicine, I cut the darn thing in half. Works like a charm.

AFGZ

Like many of you I lost the weight because I read Fances Kuffel's book "Passing for Thin." I felt an immediate searing connection to her story. I remember beginning to read the book the moment I paid for it. I read it all the way home from Casper (100 miles). I usually don't read in the car because it makes me sick. But I read non-stop until I devoured the whole thing. This unknown woman had written my life. I had just begun to try to use Kay Sheppard's food plan. I was only so-so successful. Frances' book forced me to acknowledge my life had become powerless around food. She gave me the motivation to take control of my eating. I too longed to be a Girl. I began to lose weight.

So...when she started blogging, I naturally followed her into cyberspace. Here I met more women who shared my fat fate. What a treat. Smart and sassy and mad as Hell. Angry Fat Girlz was just what I needed to remain motivated. I learned about diet and exercise and Spanx and writing and cooking and shoes and boyfriends and jobs and, along the way, I also learned about personal power. I lost more weight. How much more can you ask of a blog? For two years it was a match made in Heaven. But...even good things have to change.

Somewhere in the past year the posts began to, "flag" is the only word I can come up with. The momentum for Our cause was slowing. The importance of other causes i.e., life, had begun to overshadow the necessity of ruminating about fat and weight loss. The euphoria of weight loss was over and the drudgery of maintenance had set in.

I knew the blog was dying but kept hoping maybe there could be a miraculous recovery. But not. I am in mourning. I will miss the gathering together of my friends under one cyber roof even though I know where you all live individually. I am sad our journey together had ended. It has been quite a trip. Thank you, all.

I will still be visiting your houses from time to time to just keep in touch. Until then,

Take care. Love Bea.