Dieter’s Lament

Call it a lifestyle change, we are all dieter’s until the new eating pattern becomes a habit. While I am working toward an entire lifestyle overhaul, none of it is habit, therefore I feel like I am still a dieter.

As I am moving my life in healthier directions I am being bombarded by emotions that I usually eat to cover up. Years ago I had a friend mention that overweight people wear their issues on their sleeves. I didn’t think too much of it at the time as I wasn’t overweight, but now I realize it is very much the truth. Everyone has issues, but some are better at hiding them than others.

So as I muddle through these first few weeks until this becomes a habit I have some figuring out to do. I want to be upbeat and happy like I was in my first few posts, but I just cant channel that energy right now. I am fat, because of my injury the scale isn’t moving (thankfully it isn’t going up, but it isn’t going down either), I am isolated, and I just found out my temporary job is ending. While part of me is relieved by the end of the job, it is still rejection. And that is an feeling I have a real hard time dealing with. Maybe it is my privilege, but I just refuse to get use to the feeling of being rejected.

Funny thought, if I want to be a professional writer some day, and I do, I better get use to rejection.

That is what I love about writing, I am able to process what I am going through and make sense of it.

Back to feeling like a pile of shit for the moment. Every person who decides to make a lifestyle change can expect a rocky road. I am not up on the science of habit making, but I know I am not unusual. What I am experiencing is probably something you are feeling too.

There are so many changes to make, most of them physical, that the psychological toll of the change can be put to the back burner. I have to come to terms with my fat ass, I have to look at my behavior and patterns that brought me to this point, I have to look in the mirror (really like look myself in the eyes) and come to terms that I have not been my own best friend. In fact I have gotten in my own way. Instead of reaching for drugs or alcohol or sex (just kidding I was doing that shit too) I reached for food, primarily.

Then I need to look at how gaining weight has helped insulate me from unwanted sexual advances. I don’t pretend to speak for others, but I would bet that at least 75% of people that struggle with weight have also struggled with sexual abuse. I’m not making this a #metoo post, but reality is what it is. Being fat keeps most of the assholes away. Most.

Looking at my distorted visage in the mirror, I have no one to blame but myself. Instead of dealing with my emotions and feelings I stuffed them down my gullet. I ate away my rejection. I ate away my loneliness. I ate away the unwanted advances. I ate away my isolation. I ate away my comparison game. At any point I had the power to turn it around but it took fracturing my leg and having to sit with myself, unable to be busy and distract myself. So here I am. And I don’t like what I see and feel.

Somehow I have to make this diet become a lifestyle change. Somehow I have to make physical activity a daily occurrence. Somehow I have to strap my cape on and be my own hero, because no one is going to do it for me.

Taking a hard honest look at where you are and how you got here is important in the journey forward. I don’t want to travel this road again, I am determined to learn what I need to learn and move forward stronger and smarter than ever.

Thank you for bearing with me in my depressive posts. Just like everything else, this too is temporary.

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