Let It Go......

Ladies and gentlemen, I have a weakness to confess…recent events in my life are leading me to understand that I have a real problem with Letting Go…
They say that if you keep encountering the same negative scenarios in your life, then you still haven't learned the lessons that God/The Universe/Life ( delete where appropriate) is trying to teach you . And that realisation has hit me full in the face this week.  I won’t go into details, but the spectre of narcissism  has reared its ugly head once again, and I am finding myself falling into the same traps that I always do. When things kick off, I allow myself to assume, maybe even promote myself in the role of “rescuer” – I wade in with my size 8 Hobnails and try to fix things. Things which I cannot fix….

The problem is that, more often than not, my intervention has been uninvited, my assistance unwelcome, or my aid inappropriate. In the worst case scenario I end up becoming the scapegoat, pilloried for my good intentions. At best I am left bitter and frustrated that I couldn’t “make things better”. Why do I do this? I’m still trying to work that out completely but I am starting to wonder if my motivations are not entirely altruistic. I wish that I could profess, with utmost sincerity, that my deeds were entirely derived from  self-sacrifice…but they’re not. 

I hate conflict, I detest discord, broken things and people make me uncomfortable, yet I gravitate towards them and am driven by a powerful urge to rectify and fix them.
To quote the dwarf, Tyrion – my favourite Game of Thrones character: “ "I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples, bastards and broken things,". And fans of GOT will be highly aware that Tyrion himself is damaged goods with addiction issues and certainly the product of the ultimate dysfunctional family. No wonder I like him…

This blog has become for me, less of a journey in losing weight, and more of a quest for truth. So if I am to move on in this journey I must embrace all truths. I am starting to understand that my need to fix things, my self-appointment in the role of rescuer and fixer comes from behaviours set when I was very young. 

My family home was incredibly volatile, emotional and mental abuse abounded, the vast majority of it directed at my mother by my alcoholic father. Although there was minimal violence, the threat always permeated through our home. As a child, I just wanted it to stop. Every child feels this way, shouting and aggression is very scary – crying makes you sad. And at a tender age I discovered  that if I intervened I could detract the attention away from my mother.  I am very similar to my father in character and, somehow, I could speak in the language that would stop him in his tracks. Even if only for a little while. And that felt good. My actions were able to temporarily take away the nastiness that pervaded and I would stop feeling so horrible. The problem was, I was too good at it, and soon my family members realised that my intervention in such scenarios had the ability to assuage the conflict, and so, as is natural in a self-preservation situation, they empowered me to do this. Soon the role was encouraged, it was bestowed on me – I was put on a tenuous pedestal, declaring me “Family Rescuer”. Even after I left home, and the conflicts continued without me, I received calls imploring me to intervene from relatives, asking me to “work my magic”. And, to be brutally frank, I got off on this role, this power that had been allotted to me. It made me feel good, it- it gave me some superiority over my peers. It probably bred a form of narcissism within me.

There was one huge flaw in this plan. My family were acting as if they were worshiping a false god – Me! And the only person that truly believed in this god was myself. 

I am not going to blame my family for I am starting to understand that they were doing what was necessary to survive. I have been angry, I have felt betrayed and manipulated but I now realise that I was equally as guilty, by participation, in perpetuating in this dysfunction. After all, if I was prepared to throw myself into the lions’ pit to take the heat off them, who were they to argue? 

And so they built up this false idol, founded on my broken self-esteem, and it grew to uncontrollable proportions. The curious thing is that, even back then, my efforts always seemed to backfire on me – I got bitten, and I got left with a bitter taste in my mouth. And what is the best antidote for having eaten something bitter? Eat something sweet! So that is what I did – absolutely literally- I consumed large amounts of sugary, unhealthy foods in order to push down the terrible feelings of failure, guilt and regret. Until the next time my services were called upon…. And thus the cycle continued….

Sadly this weakness has continued to permeate throughout my life, not just through my family relationships, but through my work… I find myself striving to fight battles long after the war has been lost to the point where I am utterly exhausted. I wade in to fights that are not mine….I find I am filled with righteous indignation when I witness an injustice. But I have to look deep within and realise that my actions are, more often than not, highly egocentric.
I am an Empath, it is in my nature and character to feel and absorb the emotions of people around me, especially other people’s pain, which can affect me deeply. I can’t help that, it just happens, it always has and maybe always will. This can have a positive impact, it can endear me to people, it allows me to fit in easily in most social situations, I am mainly perceived as a “nice person”…But the downside is that, when there is a large amount of negative energy around me, I am dragged down, drained. And like the little girl watching her parents fight , I want to make it stop and to dispel the pain I am feeling. As I am progressing in my weight loss journey I am no longer able to use food as a way to suppress these feelings, so, instead I just redouble my efforts to control the conflict. I hurl myself headlong into negative and volatile situations in order to appease the insecure child within. I am doing it to repair and boost my damaged ego. Not very admirable. Not very healthy.

So how does this apply to my weight loss journey? It actually is probably at the centre of my motivation right now. Currently I am enjoying great success, and seeing great results. I share this success and, in return, so many people commend me for my tenacity and dogged determination, my willpower in sticking to the plan 100% all this time. I have conveniently and undoubtedly placed myself in the spotlight as a result of my behaviour. There is a positive pay-off in this, I do realise. Others are inspired by my success and spurred on to do the same themselves.
But, unfortunately, that bitter taste still lingers and something in the back of my head is making me very uncomfortable.
It is fear. That ubiquitous, persistent fear of failure. That nagging worry that I am setting myself up for a fall. So to shut these feelings down I push myself forward again into “the fight” – this time it’s the fight against food, the battle with my demons.
Now you may be thinking “that can only be a good thing”. Well, right now it is, for all my energy, my determination, my doggedness (they call me “the Bulldog” at work, because once I get my teeth into things I don’t let go….. I used to think it was a compliment…) is directed into losing weight. I am obsessed, driven by an unhealthy urge to win. The issue remains, however, is what to do when the battle is won, when I have no outlet for this angst and energy. Like the Beserkers of the Norse battlefield or the proverbial Tasmanian Devil, I could be spinning out of control. I have been there before. In previous weight loss efforts, once I had reached a goal I had set myself, I lost control…and span headlong back into weight gain and unhealthy choices.

So I am slowly coming to the conclusion that I must find a new approach. And this is where Letting Go comes in. This does not mean that I have to give up on the weight loss efforts or slow down my attempts. What I need to learn to do detach from this obsessive need to succeed and to remove my ego from this journey. I cannot deny that I have been basking in the admiration of my peers for my achievements. I also cannot deny that I have a right to feel proud. But what I must do is to dispel this false god I am allowing to be created all over again. The god that nobody else believes in but me. 
In my distorted head I have been telling myself that I cannot and must not fail, that I cannot fall because those that have expressed admiration in me “will feel let down”, that “people are looking up to me” “they are relying on me to inspire”. What utter bullshit. I am buying in to the myth that was sold to me in my childhood about my indispensability, the necessity of my contribution, my intrinsic importance in the grand scheme of things. Ego – pure ego. 
And what comes with this sense of obligation to uphold the image that I think I have created, is that  I am putting myself under incredible pressure and setting impossible standards. 
This, I think, is why so many seemingly normal people in the public eye succumb to drink and drugs. Just like I have used food. Don’t get me wrong, I am not comparing myself to a celebrity in any way, but I feel that I am behaving in a similar manner. So I must liberate myself, I must let go…I must step away and detach and learn to do what is best for me, and only me. I need to allow others to make their own choice, learn from their own mistakes and to stop casting myself as the Impossible Hero in the story of anyone’s life but my own. 
So now I know what I have to do. 
Next I have to learn how to do it
…Wish Me Luck….

Hitting the Century....

Things are going pretty well on my journey to weight loss right now. Last night I had my first weigh in for three weeks.. My consultant had gone away on a trip to Mauritius - a 50th birthday treat from her children - and so I was left to my own devices for 21 days. Now, as I mentioned in my last blog, it was highly tempting to see my consultant's holiday as a "holiday" of my own....but I held fast...
And I have reaped the rewards. As I stepped on the scales, I was told that, over the past three weeks I had lost twelve pounds. A very good result indeed. This was a triple celebration as not only had there been a substantial loss, I had also passed two more weight loss landmarks. Firstly I had lost over seven stone, and attained the coveted Purple Rosette (my favourite colour!!); secondly - I have bypassed the "100 pounds lost" mark. Both very gratifying achievements.
I am currently edging towards "unmarked territory", although, arguably, I am already there. Although I have weighed less than I currently do now, I have never lost this amount of weight in one single attempt before. In previous efforts, the sticking point seems to be around the five to five and half stone mark, but, so far, I appear to be breezing through that. I have also completed 163 days of being 100% on plan - no deviations, no cheats, no 'just a slice'...and, when I look back I amaze myself. I had no idea that I possessed the willpower and motivation to keep going like this.
Oh, and another thing - the amount of weight I have lost is now more than my daughter weighs! Finally - I can officially announce that I have lost all of my "Baby Weight"!! And it only took me 14 years to do it!!
I now have my next goal firmly in my sights. There are six weeks until Christmas. If I can lose another eight pounds by then, I will have shed exactly eight stones, and can formally declare myself to be exactly two thirds of the woman that I used to be...
People are really starting to notice the weight loss on me, hardly a day goes by when I am not approached by someone offering a compliment or remark. The inevitable question always follows: "How have you been doing it?"
As wonderful as it is to have people notice that you've lost weight, sometimes I find that I can suffer from "Compliment Fatigue". I know that this sounds incredibly ungrateful and ungracious, but bear with me....
It's not so much the question I mind, but when folks are clearly disappointed that I'm not about to impart the 'holy grail' of pain-free, easy slimming, I can sense bitter disappointment, and that can bring me down. Some folks don't want to hear that it's been a struggle of both body and mind (and, frankly, they don't accept that suggestion anyway), they are desperately asking for the secret formula of the "wonder pill" that you have clearly been taking. They (as did I) are craving the "quick fix" to undo years of bad and unhealthy habits. It's an unfortunate symptom of our times.
So I've come up with a new strategy. 

I like messing with people's heads anyway, it's defintiely one of my favourite hobbies. 

Now, each time I am asked for the secret of my weight loss, I come up with a more bizarre and conversation-halting reason. 

So far this week I've attributed my slimmer look to Ebola, a Tapeworm and a case of Galloping Dysentery..... It's such entertainment watching the faces of the inquisitors as they try to work out if I'm being serious or not. The more deadpan the expression, the more effective it is! Try it sometime!!

Clothes shopping is becoming more of a pleasure these days. Every Plus-Size person understands the pain of searching the mainstream shop floors for the clothes that will fit you - size and fit are a priority over style. Recently I bought myself a new pair of knee-high boots and, saints alive(!) got myself into a pair of skinny jeans. There was much prancing around the house on that day, I can tell you. My husband, a self appointed aficionado of womens' footwear fashion (in his dreams! was less keen on my boots - judging my chunky biker boots to be "too mannish" (not that I care - he doesn't get to wear them!).What he is fonder of, however, are the tartan pyjamas I bought in Primark recently...I'm not sure if it's fact that he's Scottish, but the sight of me in plaid p-js seems to get his Caledonian blood racing. No complaints there. 

To have purchased something for myself from Primark is something of a milestone for me. I was always too big for their items and had to resign myself to the larger clothes retailers which, having sensed a gap in the market, had succeeded in marking up their items more expensively. Very unfair, I think - but don't get me started on that..... I did used to enter the doors of the hallowed shop, but only to purchase gifts or necessities for my size 6 daughter. As I wandered the shop floor I did used to wonder if onlookers were glancing at me and wondering "who's she trying to kid?". That was probably firmly in my head, but nevertheless a telling sign of my discomfort and insecurity about my size.  Anyway, so I am now a proud Primark customer, my daughter has a new shopping buddy.... and my husband lives in fear of the bank balance......

Along with the weight loss, I am continuing my exercise schedule. As much as my hectic lifestyle as "full-time worker and mother with a husband who does shifts" status allows me, I try to do a daily 30 minutes on the exercise bike, followed by fifteen minutes using the hand weights to "bust those bingo wings".
It is starting to occur to me that, with the amounts of weight I am losing, that, one day, I may have to contend with excess, saggy skin. That, on the whole, doesn't worry me too much, as my focus has been, and continues to be on my health and not how I look, but it is a slight disconcerting thought. Some individuals have already asked me if I would contemplate surgery if it came to that when I reached my target but, right now, that is not an option I am entertaining. I am a 45 year old woman, and a mother of two, not a nubile 20-something with no dependents and a body that will recover quickly from going under the knife. I am not sure that I would like to risk the complications of unnecessary surgery. So, I am telling myself right now, that, if this weight loss journey leaves me with a little excess skin, then I will just disguise it with creative dressing. After all, that is what Spanx were invented for! Maybe, the 'flappy bits' will remain as a stark reminder of how far I've come, and where I started, and these will motivate me to stay on the healthy track for life.
With regards to "staying on the track" I am also starting to wonder how I will maintain my weight loss once I have (hopefully) reached my goal. It is no secret that the weight loss is the less challenging part of the journey and that integrating 'normal' foods back into one's lifestyle brings with it a minefield of risks. So, I am making plans to increase my exercise efforts, and have taken the decision to take up running in the spring. Now when I say "in the spring" this is no cop-out. I have my reasons - the nights are too dark and wet right now, I'm still not fit enough and also too heavy that pounding the streets would take an unfavourable toll on my joints. But, the seed of the idea is starting to germinate in my head and I am finding increasingly attractive the prospect of attempting a "Couch to 5K" and maybe even participating in Fun Runs. My daughter is desperate to do the Race For Life and last year I was very secretly grateful that the date for the local event clashed with other plans. I will not have the same excuse next year, and I want to join in with my girl, not just cheer on from the sidelines. So, I am making this commitment - to myself and to all readers of this blog - that I shall be running next year. No backing out now.
So that's Part A of the Maintenance Plan. part B is an ongoing project - working on my head! Weight loss is, without doubt a combination of Mind/Body/Spirit - all three stars must align for you to be successful - you cannot tackle such a big change without signing all three aspects to the deal. Every day, I find myself challenging my own thinking, and, I do believe that the message is starting to seep through to my subconscious. Just the other day I was at Costa Coffee (please note that this blog is not sponsored by Costa, Primark or Spanx and other coffee houses, clothing retailers and control underwear brands are available..) and as I was queueing for my skinny decaff and my childrens' Belgian Chocolate Teeth-Rotting Sugar-Fest (as a treat, mind you) I was stood by the cakes cabinet... There were all kinds of delicacies there...flapjacks..brownies...muffins....chocolate-laden slabs of naughtiness.... Now, normally, I would find myself salivating at that point, and probably risking banishment by the staff for leaving unhygienic nose and tongue marks on the display glass..but this time...I didn't. I hardly felt a pang, not a flicker of a craving.
It was confounding, and my subconscious brain didn't quite know what to do with itself. But I felt great! The feeling of being in self control was almost overwhelming. Now I have to just remember that feeling, and anchor it in my head, just in case temptation strikes again.
Wish me luck....