Beef, it's what's for lunch.

Yesterday, after a year and half without beef, chicken or pork, I ate a cheeseburger for lunch. I have been craving meat for a really long time. I tried to convince myself that I really didn't need meat. No matter what I ate, the cravings did not go away. Finally, yesterday, I realized what was going on with me. Rewind a year and a half....

I decided to give up meat after pondering it for a couple of weeks. I convinced myself that it was for "health" reasons. I knew a few vegetarians, oddly enough, they were all very thin. Hmmmm. That makes ya wonder doesn't it. So, now lets fast forward back to a couple of months ago. I was reading the IE book and they mentioned that some people give up meat to lose weight under the umbrella of it being for health reasons. I had no idea that the book meant me. Until yesterday. The thought had crossed my mind on a number of occasions but I blew off those thoughts because I would have never been that desperate to lose weight. Or would I?

Yesterday, when I bit into that cheeseburger, I realized that I was, in fact, that desperate to lose weight. I can't describe the sense of relief that my body felt. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted from me, like I was done pretending. I felt enlightened; I was just ignoring what my body was telling me for "health" reasons. I had been trying to figure out for the past few weeks what forbidden food I had been forgetting about. Who would have thought, it was cheeseburgers?

Today, I feel like my list of forbidden foods is complete; slowly but surely I worked my way through it. I feel free to eat whatever in the h*ll I want.

Including the pepperoni and sausage pizza I had for dinner.

Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny

Pink polka dot swim suit. Yep, I bought one of those this past weekend while on my mini vacation. And guess what, it was not a traumatic experience like I thought it would be. I took about 6 suits into the fitting room and chose the one that looked the best. This is the first bathing suit I have bought in probably 8 or 9 years. I never got into a swim suit when I was fat...ever. After years of trauma of trying on swim suits and not liking them, this time was different. Now granted, I will not be submitting photos to Sports Illustrated any time soon but I must say, I looked pretty good! Even though the tag said size 12 instead of 6.

Do you know that I even went on the beach wearing it? And I didn't feel like a beached whale and I didn't feel consumed by what others thought of me. I relaxed and hung out on the beach with Mike, like a normal person. I forgot how much I loved the beach until this past weekend. I am even looking forward to going back.

I imagine that 4 months ago, all of this would have turned out very differently, though the tag would have still read size 12. 4 months ago, I would have taken only black suits into the fitting room and I probably would have "settled" on the frumpiest one because it covered it all up. And I shudder to think of how I would have felt on the beach wearing it. You know, I really don't even know if I would have worn a bathing suit on the beach. I would have stuck to shorts and a t-shirt, I am sure.

All of this made me realize that even though I am having tough times, my anti diet lifestyle is making me love myself. I am losing my regard for what other people think of me and my own outlook is improving. Maybe size 12 isn't so bad after all.

Where have I been?

Since my last post, I haven't really felt compelled to write on my blog. Probably because after my last post, I have been having a daily battle with nutella and bread. Coming to terms with my past isn't easy. I haven't been sure where to turn. I can feel that the troubles of daily life are still just a mask for my deeper more hidden issues. And as a result, I haven't been eating for hunger, especially in the evenings. I have been cramming down the nutella and bread, my biggest forbidden foods, for comfort. On the bright side of that, at least I was aware of what I was doing and I never really had the feeling of being stuffed.

Each night, before my illicit affair with the nutella and bread, I have been sitting with my feelings. I haven't been able to identify them exactly. My feelings seem mixed up and chaotic, an odd mix of sadness, happiness, excitement and fear. A few times this past week, I felt rage and anger against this or that. At work, I have been having a horrendous time and last Friday I was almost to the point of walking out. Why? Because of what appears to be a complete lack of respect for me and my personal space from my boss. I wonder, does this fight for respect in my professional life have anything to do with the lack of respect I suffered as a child and teenager? Probably. I wonder, why can't I be one of those people that just let it slide? Why can't I be the one to just kill them with kindness? Grin and Bear it?

The good news is that my boss and I worked out our problems and came to some compromises about my complaints. I have a better overall feeling about working here and working for him. I hope that it does get better because I am not sure how I can go on dealing with all of this emotion at once. I want the healing of my heart and soul to begin. I think that I am on my way, I just have to work through it.

And one day, I will eat nutella and bread for breakfast because it sounds good.

The Emotions of IE

Most recently, I started to journal my thoughts, feelings, hunger level and food. I only did it for about a day and a half before breaking down. I started the journal this past Thursday and by Friday lunch, I was a broken child hidden in the corner.

For a long time, I had myself convinced that I hadn't been stuffing my emotions down with food all of these years. I recently realized that there were triggers for eating too much but I never realized that there was some deep down sh*t triggering my triggers. I never thought I had *those* problems. Today, I know that I have been stuffing it all down, the shame, the guilt, the hatred, the resentment, all of it.

Of course, I haven't gone through my adult life oblivious to the fact that I have made mistakes and that people have stolen parts of my soul. But what I have done is mask all of that with cynicism and a poor pitiful me act. And without knowing it, thinking I was eating the stresses of the day away, what I was really doing was cramming all of the "bad" stuff further and further into my heart and mind. Because of that, I have rolls, folds, lumps and bumps that have come to be my shield.

Throughout this journey, I have wondered: Why is IE so damn hard? Why do people make comments about IE, like, "I can't do that, I would intuitively eat 300 warm cookies"? Why is it so easy to just eat the chocolate?

Because of the emotions. That is why. And that is why diets don't work.

Had I decided that the flex plan was the right thing to do last week, I would have never faced the demons of my mind like I did this weekend. I would have never chosen the spiral bound notebook because I needed all of that paper over the pretty leather bound journal. I would have never said the words, cried the tears and fought the desire to eat the warm cookies instead. I would have never faced it because I would have pointed out the ice cream without a second thought.

All of this will give me my life back.