There is a thin woman inside of me is screaming to get out… I ate her.

I’ve been on a constant diet for the last two decades.  I’ve lost a total of 789 pounds.  By all accounts, I should be hanging from a charm bracelet.  ~Erma Bombec

I have a confession to make.  

I’ve been dieting.  I am loathe to use the “D” word because it has all kinds of negative and starvation connotations and the implication that this is a temporary adjustment to effect permanent change.  “Dieting” also implies that I’m following some fad and dammit I am no follower… except on Twitter and I don’t follow many people on there… though I am discovering that if I follow someone who is also following me we’re probably not really going anywhere.

But I digress (also a D-word).

It is no secret that I have weight issues, I have spent my entire life on one diet or another.  I was a chubby child who became a fat adult.  One look at my family proves that we either all have terrible eating habits or there is something to weight and genetics… my guess is both are contributing factors.  As a teenager my mom had me on some weird thing that had me taking about four thousand vitamins a day and drinking the most putrid chalky shake and some aloe vera drink that the thought of still gags me.  I did my time on every diet imaginable, Atkins, South Beach, Cabbage Soup, The Zone, Slim Fast, low fat, low carb, etc. etc.  I even went so far in my effort to lose weight that at 18 I had my stomach stapled.  Vertical Banded Gastroplasty they called it.  They literally staple off a portion of your stomach so that you feel full on less food.  This is great if you eat because you are hungry for food, too bad they couldn’t staple off the part of the brain that tells you that food is love.  I lost about 60 lbs after the surgery and before I met my husband and got knocked up.  I gained it all back with the pregnancy… and then some.  My results were always the same, every time I lost a little I’d gain even more back.  My weight wasn’t a yo-yo, it was a super ball, the faster it went down the higher it bounced back up.

By last fall I felt completely out of control, I had basically given up and being depressed about it only exacerbated the problem.  You know you’ve hit a low point in your life when you talk to someone on chemotherapy who has lost a lot of weight and you find yourself thinking “Maybe cancer wouldn’t be so bad.”  I know I’ll probably pay for that thought but I was in a very bad place at that time.  Self loathing takes many forms, food was my friend, my enemy and my comfort, I stuffed all of my emotions down my throat and was disgusted as I did so.  I was like a cutter but I used a fork instead of a knife.

I hit my highest weight ever then… and what I hope was rock bottom because if I get lower than that point again I’ll be underground.  That hopeless, helplessness is about the worst feeling in the world.  I understood suicide at that moment, all I wanted was to be out of this body. 

It was about that time I mentioned to my friend Jeremy (the blogger formerly known as Originalism) that I couldn’t deal with it all anymore and that I needed to find a real solution… or die.  He told me that it’s all about the math, calories in versus calories out.  At first I poo-pooh’d the idea, I was convinced that I didn’t actually consume a whole hell of a lot of calories to start with and there must be some trick to losing weight be it eating only in the dark, main-lining colon blow or hiring a wildebeast to gnaw the fat from my body.  As usual I was looking for a shorter route to success… no matter the cost, difficulty level or pain.  We live in a fast food society, we want everything immediately, we don’t want to have to work for it and spend the time it takes to do things properly.  We want what we want and we want it now, a magic bullet.

I went back on Atkins.

After a month of eating little more than meat and eggs I had lost about six pounds and was miserable.  Woman can not live on meat alone.  Then Christmas came.  More misery, and try sticking to Atkins in the face of massive quantities of chocolate, breads and potatoes.  By January I began to realize that livin’ la vida low-carb was not working for me.  I went through all of my diet books and sadly they weigh more than I do and all I have ever lost with them is the money they cost me.  None of the options were even remotely appealing.

In the back of my head Jeremy’s words gnawed at me, “Do the math.”

It was late January when my brother told me he was on Fitday.com.  He explained the site to me and said basically it is a way to keep track of your calories, consumed and expended and tracks your progress.  This was exactly what I needed… someone to do the math for me.  I did a little research and discovered that if you consume 1/2 of the calories you burn you will lose 1 pound every two days.  Two or three pounds a week seemed pretty reasonable so I thought I’d give it a go.  I had nothing to lose and a lot to lose.

I honestly thought I ate fairly low calorie until I started doing this.  Denial is truly a big fat bitch.  The first week astounded me.  A slice of bread is 170 calories???!  A tablespoon of butter is 102 and the cream in my coffee is 157??  I’ve had 429 Calories and I haven’t even started my day!  To say I have amended my eating habits is an understatement.  Just being able to see where the calories come from and how empty some of them are made me feel not just accountable, but in control, for maybe the first time in my life.  I am the master (mistress) of my own domain.  I can do this.

I spent a lot of time researching my low-cal options and adapting my recipes to make them more ass-friendly.  Instead of regular bread I eat rye bread (at 60 calories per slice) and I am forcing myself to be a fruit person, though I mostly stick to watermelon and bananas.  Most fruit and dense vegetables (as well as rice and beef) do not sit well with me since I had my gastro and if I eat them the chances are pretty good that they won’t stay down.  I also have to be careful about bulk, my stomach can’t hold much for volume but by the time I realize that I have eaten too much or too fast it’s too late.  I’ll spare the cookie-tossing details but I do want to clarify that when I throw up the food has not yet been digested (it’s like it’s in a holding tank that leads to the stomach and that is where things get held up and consequently backed up) so it’s not the acidic vomit one would imagine.  In reality most things taste the same in both directions.  

So since I am unable to eat a lot of the usual “diet” fare I have become more creative which works for me because it allows me to eat versions of the things I love.  I make a lot of homemade soups (cooked veg are far easier for me to digest than raw), I snack on rice cakes (which I have actually come to enjoy), I use low fat and light mayo’s and dressings and wherever I can stand it I skip the fat all together.  I know that sounds kind of bleak, but I don’t feel deprived at all and the reason for that is because I am not.  I eat exactly what I want but it has to fall into my 1200-1500 calories a day.  If I want a piece of chocolate cake I have it knowing full well that I have to cut back somewhere else.  Same goes for wine.  On the days when I know I will be having a drink (or six) I eat a lighter day to make up for it.  I have also learned that I can eat (and drink) more if I burn more calories.  Fitday also keeps track of calories burned so when I spend three hours gardening I can burn an extra 900 calories which gives me a spare 450 that I can consume (or not).  

I hate exercise, you will never catch me in a gym and my helliptical has been the bane of my existence since I bought it.  I don’t even like going into the basement because that fucker mocks me.  Walking (or hellipticalling) to nowhere and back is pointless to me but I have discovered that I do love exercise with a purpose (EWAP).  I can accomplish things while working out.  I shoveled the driveway all winter and truly enjoyed every sweaty second of it.  I am happy to plug into mipod and putter away mowing the lawn, raking leaves, painting or gardening.  EWAP is allowing me to eat what I want, it’s peeling off  the pounds, making me sleep better (more fresh air) and it’s made me incredibly productive.

I know it’s only the start but at least this time (and maybe for the first time) I think I am on the right road.  I am feeling better about myself, not just because my clothes are hanging off me but because I am in control, I have the power (of Greyskull?) and I don’t feel so helpless and hopeless anymore.  As of yesterday I have lost 31lbs but the positive state of mind that I am gaining is almost as rewarding.