I am not sure why we started calling her that, is just fine. When we went for our early A.M. walk she was a splendid dog. She heeled on the leash while we were tiptoeing over the ice and ran like a mad dog when we hit dry ground. We now walk her without a leash most times. I thought she would run off but she stays fairly close. She waits for us when we yell wait. She is a ham. She swims through the deep powder snow or skids across the top of the crusted snow. She sank through the crust the other day and was marooned with just her head sticking out. Mark had to go rescue her. I thought I was going to lose both of them. Walking without her now would be boring.
I have learned to be a pack leader. For someone terrified of dogs this is quite something. I know all the dogs in the neighborhood. Mollie does not get to run free so all the "kids" come over to our yard to play. I am not kidding. Yesterday I had five of them lined up at the gate waiting to get in. They run around and play tug toy while I shovel snow. When I have had enough I shoo them out. I can hardly believe it is me ordering all these dogs around. I am teaching them to sit in a row and wait for their treats. While all the people who own these lovely dogs are at work, their dogs run free. It makes me worried for them. But they love it.
Mollie can sit, stay, walk on a leash, put her toys in a basket, and no longer jumps on people. She was always house trained and she stays off the furniture. I can leave her at home for a couple of hours and she voluntarily stays in her crate and doesn't bother anything. I think the cats have a lot to do with that. She obeys them. They don't like her walking around the house if we are not home...so she stays in her crate.
I have sort of figured out how to curb her leash aggression. I turn her around so we don't meet the other dog face to face. Or if the other dog looks friendly I let her off the leash. She only gets nervous and aggressive when meeting other dogs if she is on a leash. We both need more practise at this. I am glad we live in an unincorporated hamlet where we don't meet many other leashed dogs.
I am plum nuts about this dog. I think all the bad behaviour at the beginning just made me more determined to make something of her. I knew she had the potential to be a great friend. She is currently curled up at my feet. I'd be lost without her. Amen.
Take care of yourselves. Bea
P.S. This estrogen is driving me nuts. I look like two dirigibles have landed on my chest. But...no more hot flashes and I SLEEP at night. The trade off may be worth it. Supposed to snow 3-6 inches again today. sigh
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Not There Yet
Okay my chest swelled up and I am five pounds heavier. My skin looks better and I am not having hot flashes during the day. I still wake up at o'dark hundred every night. I am now only suicidal when it snows. (This is normal for here.) Is this success?
Now for something completely different. I hate, hate, hate to cook. Is a problem as I want to eat non-processed stuff. In response to Annimals' questions I reviewed my cooking history. Very interesting.
In doing my culinary retrospection I was shocked to discover my horrible experiences with cooking.
1. At four I did all the shopping and cooking for my mother and I. I would stand on a stool at the counter and she would direct me from the bedroom how to stir up pancakes and cook them in a frying pan. I also fried hunks of bologna. That's what we ate most of the time.
2. At six in the foster home I peeled potatoes for thirteen people every evening. Also carrots, turnips and beets. My first grade teacher thought I had some sort of disease after one of the beet nights. Here also began my dish washing odyssey.
3. At eleven I moved back in with my mother and took over cooking again. She was much better by now and helped me, but getting meals on the table was my responsibility.
4. At thirteen I began cooking supper once a week for the 25 old people in the nursing home. My adopted mother cooked the other nights. I made pancakes and eggs mostly. Sometimes I branched out with macaroni and cheese and vegetables. My first paid job was washing dishes in the nursing home. I started at twelve and finally graduated at fifteen when I became a nurses aid.
5. My adopted mother could cook like a dream, and she hated it. She was perpetually exhausted and cooking made her back hurt. But she cooked anyway. We did not eat our meals at the house, we ate at the nursing home.
6. During nursing school and after I mostly ate out or ate t.v. dinners or sandwiches. That is twenty-some years of junk food.
7. When I married at 32 I began cooking three meals a day. We have not been "in the funds" for a good portion of our married life so we have mostly eaten at home. Mark cannot taste much of anything so elaborate meals do not matter to him.
8. The only time I now go "all out" in the kitchen is when we are going to have company. As we usually have big gatherings I am tired and stressed out before, during and after these dreadful cooking marathons.
Is it any wonder I can't stand to cook. I am glad to have learned why I detest cooking but...I don't have any idea how to fix the problem. This cooking hangup is one of the main reasons I am fat, so I would really like to learn to appreciate cooking. Any ideas?
Bon Appetite, Bea
Now for something completely different. I hate, hate, hate to cook. Is a problem as I want to eat non-processed stuff. In response to Annimals' questions I reviewed my cooking history. Very interesting.
In doing my culinary retrospection I was shocked to discover my horrible experiences with cooking.
1. At four I did all the shopping and cooking for my mother and I. I would stand on a stool at the counter and she would direct me from the bedroom how to stir up pancakes and cook them in a frying pan. I also fried hunks of bologna. That's what we ate most of the time.
2. At six in the foster home I peeled potatoes for thirteen people every evening. Also carrots, turnips and beets. My first grade teacher thought I had some sort of disease after one of the beet nights. Here also began my dish washing odyssey.
3. At eleven I moved back in with my mother and took over cooking again. She was much better by now and helped me, but getting meals on the table was my responsibility.
4. At thirteen I began cooking supper once a week for the 25 old people in the nursing home. My adopted mother cooked the other nights. I made pancakes and eggs mostly. Sometimes I branched out with macaroni and cheese and vegetables. My first paid job was washing dishes in the nursing home. I started at twelve and finally graduated at fifteen when I became a nurses aid.
5. My adopted mother could cook like a dream, and she hated it. She was perpetually exhausted and cooking made her back hurt. But she cooked anyway. We did not eat our meals at the house, we ate at the nursing home.
6. During nursing school and after I mostly ate out or ate t.v. dinners or sandwiches. That is twenty-some years of junk food.
7. When I married at 32 I began cooking three meals a day. We have not been "in the funds" for a good portion of our married life so we have mostly eaten at home. Mark cannot taste much of anything so elaborate meals do not matter to him.
8. The only time I now go "all out" in the kitchen is when we are going to have company. As we usually have big gatherings I am tired and stressed out before, during and after these dreadful cooking marathons.
Is it any wonder I can't stand to cook. I am glad to have learned why I detest cooking but...I don't have any idea how to fix the problem. This cooking hangup is one of the main reasons I am fat, so I would really like to learn to appreciate cooking. Any ideas?
Bon Appetite, Bea
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
All Patched Up
Okay, I went to the doctor on Friday. Was a hassle just getting there. We had to wait an hour while they dynamited avalanches in the canyon before we could even leave. Then it snowed the whole darn way. Mark, bless his little heart, took the day off and drove me over. He said he had a "vested interest" in this doctor's appointment. Ya think he is tired of me yelling at him? Anyway we arrived intact and on time.
I was a nervous wreck. I have issues about anyone peering at my private parts except my husband. AND I have major issues with health care in general and in particular. I had a list of demands for the doctor so as not to be fobbed off with the usual medical jargon and procedures. I was determined to understand and agree with everything done to me before I acquiesced to a "treatment plan." In my anxiety I still think I may have been semi-fobbed. But, over all, I believe I got what needed.
For fobby starters, She, physician does not prescribe compounding pharmacy made bio-identical hormones. She does not do blood tests to ascertain current hormone levels. She does not prescribe hormones based on blood tests. She does not prescribe thyroid meds with both T4 and T3 components. So I got none of that.
For semi-happy enders, She did the most thorough intake interview I've ever experienced. I had an opportunity to relay all my symptoms and have them explained to me. She did a gentle pelvic exam. She addressed each of my requests and explained her rationale for not using a damn one of them. The exam room was warm and the gown fit. Oh, they did not weigh me. The nurse told me they had decided it was a waste of valuable time as almost every woman could tell you what she weighed down to the ounce!
I was prescribed a low dose non-synthetic transdermal estradiol (estrogen) patch. It is the lowest dose possible. I change it weekly. I was not prescribed progesterone as I have had a hyster and "do not not need it to protect my uterus." The office visit was covered by my insurance and so was the patch. The patch cost me out of pocket $11 for three weeks.
I am not anxious or unhappy about my "treatment plan" but I think it could be better.
I believe the blood tests would have given a clear picture of where I am hormone wise and I would not have to use the trial and error method to determine the correct estrogen dosage. At present I use the patch for three weeks and if I am still having hot flashes and night sweats the dosage is increased in small increments until my symptoms abate. This is the usual and accepted medical model of treatment and one I am very familiar with. But...wouldn't it have been lovely to get an individualized dose immediately.
I think I may need some progesterone. The blood tests would have told me this. In the mean time I will study up on it, and wait to see if the estrogen alone does the trick.
I would have liked to have had a more specific thyroid blood test. I pushed for this and was told that my insurance would not pay for it as She (the physician) did not believe it was needed. Not a very subtle coercion.
So, that is my story. As of today I do not think I have noticed any changes from the patch. Maybe a few less hot flashes. She told me I might have to wait the full three weeks before noticing any changes. I told Mark this and he looked crestfallen. Come to find out the only symptom he really wants to go away is my lack of libido!
Markovian theory:
1. Every time you walk past your wife rub that estrogen patch on her bottom real hard. It might be heat activated.
2. If one patch is good, five would work much faster. Gluing them to the bottom of her feet while she is sleeping will guarantee they will not be noticed as quickly.
3. Do not inquire on the hour "Are we there yet?" It just makes her mad.
Sigh, Love Bea
I was a nervous wreck. I have issues about anyone peering at my private parts except my husband. AND I have major issues with health care in general and in particular. I had a list of demands for the doctor so as not to be fobbed off with the usual medical jargon and procedures. I was determined to understand and agree with everything done to me before I acquiesced to a "treatment plan." In my anxiety I still think I may have been semi-fobbed. But, over all, I believe I got what needed.
For fobby starters, She, physician does not prescribe compounding pharmacy made bio-identical hormones. She does not do blood tests to ascertain current hormone levels. She does not prescribe hormones based on blood tests. She does not prescribe thyroid meds with both T4 and T3 components. So I got none of that.
For semi-happy enders, She did the most thorough intake interview I've ever experienced. I had an opportunity to relay all my symptoms and have them explained to me. She did a gentle pelvic exam. She addressed each of my requests and explained her rationale for not using a damn one of them. The exam room was warm and the gown fit. Oh, they did not weigh me. The nurse told me they had decided it was a waste of valuable time as almost every woman could tell you what she weighed down to the ounce!
I was prescribed a low dose non-synthetic transdermal estradiol (estrogen) patch. It is the lowest dose possible. I change it weekly. I was not prescribed progesterone as I have had a hyster and "do not not need it to protect my uterus." The office visit was covered by my insurance and so was the patch. The patch cost me out of pocket $11 for three weeks.
I am not anxious or unhappy about my "treatment plan" but I think it could be better.
I believe the blood tests would have given a clear picture of where I am hormone wise and I would not have to use the trial and error method to determine the correct estrogen dosage. At present I use the patch for three weeks and if I am still having hot flashes and night sweats the dosage is increased in small increments until my symptoms abate. This is the usual and accepted medical model of treatment and one I am very familiar with. But...wouldn't it have been lovely to get an individualized dose immediately.
I think I may need some progesterone. The blood tests would have told me this. In the mean time I will study up on it, and wait to see if the estrogen alone does the trick.
I would have liked to have had a more specific thyroid blood test. I pushed for this and was told that my insurance would not pay for it as She (the physician) did not believe it was needed. Not a very subtle coercion.
So, that is my story. As of today I do not think I have noticed any changes from the patch. Maybe a few less hot flashes. She told me I might have to wait the full three weeks before noticing any changes. I told Mark this and he looked crestfallen. Come to find out the only symptom he really wants to go away is my lack of libido!
Markovian theory:
1. Every time you walk past your wife rub that estrogen patch on her bottom real hard. It might be heat activated.
2. If one patch is good, five would work much faster. Gluing them to the bottom of her feet while she is sleeping will guarantee they will not be noticed as quickly.
3. Do not inquire on the hour "Are we there yet?" It just makes her mad.
Sigh, Love Bea
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Masks 2
I just called Mark at work and yelled at him for losing the remote to his t.v.. Have I lost my mind? You betcha. I am longing for Friday and my Dr's. appointment to get here. Hi Nory.
Vickie I read the chemical post. (see previous comments) I believe whole foods are the healthy way to go. I have not been able to commit myself to the work it takes to eat this way. I want fake food because I feel lousy and it is easier to eat the stuff with chemicals in it than to shop and wash and chop and cook the real stuff. But...I want to be less fake in all areas of my life. Read on.
I am trying to take off my masks. It is scaring me spitless. I teach the adult Sunday School class at our church. I try to keep to the middle of the road with everything I teach so as not to offend anyone. Damn boring, for me and for them. This past Sunday I went off lesson and brought up a subject that I had questions about. We had a lively, to say the least, discussion. I revealed my true thinking about the subject. Was fairly well received...and I have been a mess ever since.
I hate letting my "real self" show. She is sooooo vulnerable on all levels. I let the false self take the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and retreat to my real self to rest/hide. Only a couple of people get see to the real me. I am fakish with everyone else. Interestingly enough it is the real self who over eats. Lately it is taking more and more food to insulate the real self from the trials of the false self. I am getting tired and sick from living my false internal life. So, on Sunday I decided to let what I thought were parts of the real me show through. And that felt fake too. Poop.
Have I lived to please for so long that I can't even recognize who and what is the essential me? Am I incapable of either an unanalyzed action or a self recriminating reaction? Mebbe. Hard to reveal your real self to others when she is a semi unknown entity. I think the real self eats to pad out bad stuff but also to shore up who she is. She is weak. What I found out during Sunday's escapade is that I need to build up my real self's muscles. When you have been so agreeable for so long you develop a really tough "nice shell." I am not yet strong enough to break the shell of my false nice persona. How to get stronger? First, I have to exercise my "No." Then I need to spend time with my real self to get to know her. I am grateful for my false self's auto pilot ability to carry on with daily life while emotionally I am gearing up for the great escape.
My goal with all to this is to finally get to "authentic compassion." It is going to take longer and be harder than I figured. Maybe a year. A first step could be to stop eating fake food.
Take care, Love Bea
Vickie I read the chemical post. (see previous comments) I believe whole foods are the healthy way to go. I have not been able to commit myself to the work it takes to eat this way. I want fake food because I feel lousy and it is easier to eat the stuff with chemicals in it than to shop and wash and chop and cook the real stuff. But...I want to be less fake in all areas of my life. Read on.
I am trying to take off my masks. It is scaring me spitless. I teach the adult Sunday School class at our church. I try to keep to the middle of the road with everything I teach so as not to offend anyone. Damn boring, for me and for them. This past Sunday I went off lesson and brought up a subject that I had questions about. We had a lively, to say the least, discussion. I revealed my true thinking about the subject. Was fairly well received...and I have been a mess ever since.
I hate letting my "real self" show. She is sooooo vulnerable on all levels. I let the false self take the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune and retreat to my real self to rest/hide. Only a couple of people get see to the real me. I am fakish with everyone else. Interestingly enough it is the real self who over eats. Lately it is taking more and more food to insulate the real self from the trials of the false self. I am getting tired and sick from living my false internal life. So, on Sunday I decided to let what I thought were parts of the real me show through. And that felt fake too. Poop.
Have I lived to please for so long that I can't even recognize who and what is the essential me? Am I incapable of either an unanalyzed action or a self recriminating reaction? Mebbe. Hard to reveal your real self to others when she is a semi unknown entity. I think the real self eats to pad out bad stuff but also to shore up who she is. She is weak. What I found out during Sunday's escapade is that I need to build up my real self's muscles. When you have been so agreeable for so long you develop a really tough "nice shell." I am not yet strong enough to break the shell of my false nice persona. How to get stronger? First, I have to exercise my "No." Then I need to spend time with my real self to get to know her. I am grateful for my false self's auto pilot ability to carry on with daily life while emotionally I am gearing up for the great escape.
My goal with all to this is to finally get to "authentic compassion." It is going to take longer and be harder than I figured. Maybe a year. A first step could be to stop eating fake food.
Take care, Love Bea
Friday, January 30, 2009
It's My Birthday
And I'll cry if I want to. I am 52 today, but that is not why I am crying. I am damn glad to be 52. My mother died at 48. I am crying because Mark and I had another fight on my birthday. We had a fight because I finally was able to go to sleep at 4:10 a.m.. I had to get up at 6 a.m. I haven't slept more than 4-5 hours a night for weeks, months, years, or maybe millennia. On two hours of sleep I am willing to pick a fight with anyone. I first tried to argue with the cat but she ignored me. So I picked at Mark until he fought back. Sigh.
During last night's sojourn I watched the latest episode of Oprah. She had Suzanne Sommers on. The whole show was about bioidentical hormones. Imagine how healing this was for me sitting there at 3 a.m. in my sweat soaked night gown eating left over meatloaf. It was a gift from God. I was darn near convinced by the show's end that I needed bioidenticals but was still sort of scared off by the guest (traditional) Dr.'s opinion. Then came breakfast and the empty cheerio box fight. (You don't want to know) I need those hormones.
And...I have an appointment next Friday at 11:30 to find out about getting some. I will be armed with a boat load of questions and requirements. If this doctor can't or won't help me I will travel farther afield. I AM GOING TO GET SOME HELP. I don't care if the hormones kill me. At least I will have had six months of normal life. I think what really sold me was when this miserable woman they had on the show a couple of weeks ago showed up last night looking twenty years younger. When asked how she felt on the bioidenticals she said "like she had had an infusion of joy." Sign me up. In the past two years my sense of humor has dried up as much as my vag ... well, you know. The thing that has brought me through all my tribulations has been the ability to see the funny side of life. Currently I am as morose as a Mortician. Phooey on that.
I am up for hormonal testimonials if you would care to share them.
Take care of yourselves. Love Bea
During last night's sojourn I watched the latest episode of Oprah. She had Suzanne Sommers on. The whole show was about bioidentical hormones. Imagine how healing this was for me sitting there at 3 a.m. in my sweat soaked night gown eating left over meatloaf. It was a gift from God. I was darn near convinced by the show's end that I needed bioidenticals but was still sort of scared off by the guest (traditional) Dr.'s opinion. Then came breakfast and the empty cheerio box fight. (You don't want to know) I need those hormones.
And...I have an appointment next Friday at 11:30 to find out about getting some. I will be armed with a boat load of questions and requirements. If this doctor can't or won't help me I will travel farther afield. I AM GOING TO GET SOME HELP. I don't care if the hormones kill me. At least I will have had six months of normal life. I think what really sold me was when this miserable woman they had on the show a couple of weeks ago showed up last night looking twenty years younger. When asked how she felt on the bioidenticals she said "like she had had an infusion of joy." Sign me up. In the past two years my sense of humor has dried up as much as my vag ... well, you know. The thing that has brought me through all my tribulations has been the ability to see the funny side of life. Currently I am as morose as a Mortician. Phooey on that.
I am up for hormonal testimonials if you would care to share them.
Take care of yourselves. Love Bea
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Masks, Part 1
Thanks all for the comments. Wendy, I too am enthused about Paul McKenna and agree with his methods of eating, but not yet. I think Intuitive Eating works if you are also receiving effective help with the emotions that cause overeating. Without the emotional support nothing changes and IE becomes just another failed program.
I have to write about the weather. It was 22 below on Monday and twenty four hours later it snowed another eight inches. How is that possible? We had a full week of reprieve from the snow because it never reached zero during the day and was way below during the night. Then poof, the temp went up and we got about six inches. Then down went the mercury and no snow and then back up and the afore mentioned eight inches. One of the berms beside our driveway is over ten feet tall. It blocks out the sun. Our clothes line is six or seven feet tall. When the snow touches the lines I am leaving home. The dog stepped across a five foot fence yesterday. I shoveled for three and a half hours. I wore my back brace and just went at it. We are all in survival mode here.
Speaking of emotions. Anyone watching Oprah and her fat shows? Usually her program drives me nuts, but these episodes have been very enlightening. "What is it you really want," she keeps asking the guests? What is it that food is replacing? Good questions, and very effective to a point.
In the short term I know I eat because I want to be entertained or because I am exhausted or because I am nervous. I think those are habitual patterns based on laziness and my love of quick fixes. What I really wanted yesterday after my marathon shoveling event was a hot bath and a nap, and to scream to the Heavens about the unfairness of all this damn snow. But the bathtub was dirty. I'd have had to scrub it out before bathing. And I had taken the sheets off the bed to wash them so the bed was unnappable. And snow is "so good for the farmers you know." So...I consumed a giant ham sandwich, two cups of hot chocolate and six cheese sticks. I eventually took a shower, had a fight with Mark, and put the clean sheets on the bed and went to bed at bedtime. The food met my immediate need but it sure wasn't what I really wanted....
On a grander scale I don't think the questions work as well. I looked at the big picture of my life and asked myself what I really wanted. After much soul searching I knew the answer. Not so big surprise, I found it to be unattainable. Then I had donuts. I think I am a typical fat person. For many of Us what we want most in life is unattainable and we eat to stave off this primal pain. We can't get the ungettable and we eat to shield ourselves from the irrevocable. We are unwilling to look loss squarely in the face and allow it to crush us. We refuse to mourn.
I have much more to say about this but it will take another post.
Take care of yourselves by doing and getting what you really want. Love Bea
I have to write about the weather. It was 22 below on Monday and twenty four hours later it snowed another eight inches. How is that possible? We had a full week of reprieve from the snow because it never reached zero during the day and was way below during the night. Then poof, the temp went up and we got about six inches. Then down went the mercury and no snow and then back up and the afore mentioned eight inches. One of the berms beside our driveway is over ten feet tall. It blocks out the sun. Our clothes line is six or seven feet tall. When the snow touches the lines I am leaving home. The dog stepped across a five foot fence yesterday. I shoveled for three and a half hours. I wore my back brace and just went at it. We are all in survival mode here.
Speaking of emotions. Anyone watching Oprah and her fat shows? Usually her program drives me nuts, but these episodes have been very enlightening. "What is it you really want," she keeps asking the guests? What is it that food is replacing? Good questions, and very effective to a point.
In the short term I know I eat because I want to be entertained or because I am exhausted or because I am nervous. I think those are habitual patterns based on laziness and my love of quick fixes. What I really wanted yesterday after my marathon shoveling event was a hot bath and a nap, and to scream to the Heavens about the unfairness of all this damn snow. But the bathtub was dirty. I'd have had to scrub it out before bathing. And I had taken the sheets off the bed to wash them so the bed was unnappable. And snow is "so good for the farmers you know." So...I consumed a giant ham sandwich, two cups of hot chocolate and six cheese sticks. I eventually took a shower, had a fight with Mark, and put the clean sheets on the bed and went to bed at bedtime. The food met my immediate need but it sure wasn't what I really wanted....
On a grander scale I don't think the questions work as well. I looked at the big picture of my life and asked myself what I really wanted. After much soul searching I knew the answer. Not so big surprise, I found it to be unattainable. Then I had donuts. I think I am a typical fat person. For many of Us what we want most in life is unattainable and we eat to stave off this primal pain. We can't get the ungettable and we eat to shield ourselves from the irrevocable. We are unwilling to look loss squarely in the face and allow it to crush us. We refuse to mourn.
I have much more to say about this but it will take another post.
Take care of yourselves by doing and getting what you really want. Love Bea
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Hi Ho Trigger
I hit 200 pounds on Sunday. I guess if Oprah can confess it so can I.
I have been using my food plan like a diet. Big surprise, it is not working. I just can't stick to it. But then I never could stick to restrictive diets. I lost a lot of weight on this plan a couple of years ago and just loved it. So what is the problem now? It is too limited. Who can go the rest of their lives without eating sugar, flour, nuts, bananas, cherries, avocados or grapes. I guess I could maybe pass on the mangoes but how in the world can you live and never again eat corn or ham? Or chew gum?
I decided to come at my increasing girth from another angle. I am not going to bring my trigger foods into the house.
According to much of the reading I have done one bite of sugar sets off a chemical reaction in some of our bodies that cannot be ignored and a craving and binge are sure to follow. I think that generalization is hooey. I do know what for me sets off a binge cycle. And that is really all I need to know. My prime set up for a binge is having my trigger foods close to hand. During my Christmas hiatus I sat down and figured out what food I could not leave alone or stop eating once I started. Here is the list.
1. Popcorn. If start eating this I am ravenous for hours afterward.
2. Mints. I could eat bags of these. (And have.)
3. Jam and jelly. I eat it until the whole jar is gone. Also chutney.
4. Baked goods. Most anything baked sings a siren song to me. Desserts are out also.
5. Apple cider and Vegetable juice cocktail. I drink the entire jug of both.
6. Flavored yogurt. Can't leave it alone until it is all gone. Yes even the
low sugar low fat kind.
7. Dried fruit. Lord help us I can eat a whole container of prunes. I then have to spend whole days and nights outdoors.
8. Flavored almonds, i.e. dark chocolate, vanilla, sea salt or chili flavored. The plain ones I can leave in the cupboard until they go stale.
9. Pistachios and macadamia nuts.
10. Ice cream, ice milk, frozen yogurt and gelato. Especially gelato.
11. Leftovers...not for long. Also lunch meat. Especially liver wurst.
12. Pizza and pretzels.
13. Soup. Is this not weird? I cannot leave soup alone once I have made it. I am obligated to eat it until the whole pot is empty.
14. Lasagna. See above.
15. Scalloped potatoes. Not fried, not baked, not mashed, just scalloped.
16. Candy. See mints.
17. Cherries and grapes. Same fallout as with prunes.
18. Hamburger assister. Anything and noodles. And gravy. I could drink gravy.
19. Cheesecake and all soft cheeses and flavored cheese and cheddar.
And Yes,
20. My old nemesis Peanut M & M's.
It is a long list but not impossible to ban from my house. Did you notice what is NOT on the list.
1. Bananas. I have never sat down and ate an entire bunch of bananas in my life. Or mangoes.
2. Potato chips. I don't like them. Corn chips I can take or leave. But pretzels...Nellie bar the door. I can inhale them.
3. Cold cereal. I could be drowning in sugary poffs and would not open my mouth to swallow it. I don't like it.
4. Peanuts and walnuts and cashews are okay but I wouldn't cross the street to seek them out.
5. Store bought bread. I have a loaf in the fridge going moldy.
6. Corn, I have never binged on corn.
7. Balsamic vinegar. I do not drink the stuff. Or blue cheese dressing or mayonnaise.
8. Honey. I have to microwave my honey because it keeps crystallizing. Also molasses and maple syrup.
9. Most potatoes, except scalloped.
10. Meat, fish, shell fish and veg. I do not binge on any of theses.
I have quit early with this list because what I can eat without bingeing is much longer than what I can't eat.
I guess my point is that it is purely personal what foods trigger my cravings and binges. Sugar in whatever form it enters my blood stream does not inevitably push me over the edge into overeating. It is something else. I don't know why the above listed foods send me face down into them. I suspect they have emotional associations of pleasure in my past. Comfort food.
But that is another post.
Take care of yourselves. I am.
Love Bea
I have been using my food plan like a diet. Big surprise, it is not working. I just can't stick to it. But then I never could stick to restrictive diets. I lost a lot of weight on this plan a couple of years ago and just loved it. So what is the problem now? It is too limited. Who can go the rest of their lives without eating sugar, flour, nuts, bananas, cherries, avocados or grapes. I guess I could maybe pass on the mangoes but how in the world can you live and never again eat corn or ham? Or chew gum?
I decided to come at my increasing girth from another angle. I am not going to bring my trigger foods into the house.
According to much of the reading I have done one bite of sugar sets off a chemical reaction in some of our bodies that cannot be ignored and a craving and binge are sure to follow. I think that generalization is hooey. I do know what for me sets off a binge cycle. And that is really all I need to know. My prime set up for a binge is having my trigger foods close to hand. During my Christmas hiatus I sat down and figured out what food I could not leave alone or stop eating once I started. Here is the list.
1. Popcorn. If start eating this I am ravenous for hours afterward.
2. Mints. I could eat bags of these. (And have.)
3. Jam and jelly. I eat it until the whole jar is gone. Also chutney.
4. Baked goods. Most anything baked sings a siren song to me. Desserts are out also.
5. Apple cider and Vegetable juice cocktail. I drink the entire jug of both.
6. Flavored yogurt. Can't leave it alone until it is all gone. Yes even the
low sugar low fat kind.
7. Dried fruit. Lord help us I can eat a whole container of prunes. I then have to spend whole days and nights outdoors.
8. Flavored almonds, i.e. dark chocolate, vanilla, sea salt or chili flavored. The plain ones I can leave in the cupboard until they go stale.
9. Pistachios and macadamia nuts.
10. Ice cream, ice milk, frozen yogurt and gelato. Especially gelato.
11. Leftovers...not for long. Also lunch meat. Especially liver wurst.
12. Pizza and pretzels.
13. Soup. Is this not weird? I cannot leave soup alone once I have made it. I am obligated to eat it until the whole pot is empty.
14. Lasagna. See above.
15. Scalloped potatoes. Not fried, not baked, not mashed, just scalloped.
16. Candy. See mints.
17. Cherries and grapes. Same fallout as with prunes.
18. Hamburger assister. Anything and noodles. And gravy. I could drink gravy.
19. Cheesecake and all soft cheeses and flavored cheese and cheddar.
And Yes,
20. My old nemesis Peanut M & M's.
It is a long list but not impossible to ban from my house. Did you notice what is NOT on the list.
1. Bananas. I have never sat down and ate an entire bunch of bananas in my life. Or mangoes.
2. Potato chips. I don't like them. Corn chips I can take or leave. But pretzels...Nellie bar the door. I can inhale them.
3. Cold cereal. I could be drowning in sugary poffs and would not open my mouth to swallow it. I don't like it.
4. Peanuts and walnuts and cashews are okay but I wouldn't cross the street to seek them out.
5. Store bought bread. I have a loaf in the fridge going moldy.
6. Corn, I have never binged on corn.
7. Balsamic vinegar. I do not drink the stuff. Or blue cheese dressing or mayonnaise.
8. Honey. I have to microwave my honey because it keeps crystallizing. Also molasses and maple syrup.
9. Most potatoes, except scalloped.
10. Meat, fish, shell fish and veg. I do not binge on any of theses.
I have quit early with this list because what I can eat without bingeing is much longer than what I can't eat.
I guess my point is that it is purely personal what foods trigger my cravings and binges. Sugar in whatever form it enters my blood stream does not inevitably push me over the edge into overeating. It is something else. I don't know why the above listed foods send me face down into them. I suspect they have emotional associations of pleasure in my past. Comfort food.
But that is another post.
Take care of yourselves. I am.
Love Bea
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