I Hear Voices

“You’re fat, you’re weak, and on top of that you can’t do a damn thing right”. Nice, right? that’s the little voice – the recording if you will that plays in my head when I am having a bad day. When my bad day turns into a bad week, my little voice sings: “Don’t you have any strength? What’s wrong with you?” When my bad week turns into a bad few weeks turns into a bad month it screams: “You’re worthless, you don’t deserve any happiness, why try to aim for good health when you’ll fail anyway?” When I hear these voices as they whisper sweet destructive nothings in my ears I picture my alter ego as a snotty little brat with pig tails wagging a finger at me, ya know the one, that bitchy little know-it-all that we all wanted to ram with our fist in elementary school.

The minute the Feel Great Weight Program ended the pigtailed little bitch started singing her favorite self-loathing-you’re-not-worthy tune. Instead of being empowered by my success I went to the land of self-destruction and barely hung on to my Top 5. Which of course leads me to say, WTF? Well, for someone who has struggled with their weight most of their life – the land of self-destruction is filled, to my kid’s delight, with McDonalds, bagels, bologna, chips, burgers, fries lots of fries, soda, donuts, frozen coffee’s, all the stuff that I didn’t eat for seven months and which turned me into Homer Simpson.

When I first heard that freedom bell, the bell of the Feel Great Weight being over I thought I’d have a little taste here, a nibble there, and be done with it, but each week the binging over took me, the over eating overwhelmed me and soon I was on the shame spiral of all shame spirals. My family had so much McDonalds I had to put a ban on it for four weeks because when you go there for breakfast and lunch and your two year olds says “my hands are greasy” you know you have problems.

Now, in my defense, okay, screw that, my excuse? I was being held hostage by the voices in my head. It was Stockholm Syndrome all over again. Like Patty Hearst I didn’t want to rob the bank, but the voices in my head forced me through every drive-thru, demanded that I eat a bag of chips by myself and yes, they made me say yes, I do want fries with that! I was lost in a bubble of no accountability, there was no nutritionist to answer too, no trainer to perform for, freedom was mine and man did I taste it, so much so that I avoided the scale for two weeks. When I finally had the courage to face the music, I hopped on, cue the dooming music “dun, dun DUN” and saw that I had gained three pounds. And this little weight gain sent me down spiraling down into the pit of despair. WOW was it a dark place –it was like I was facing one of Voldemort’s death eaters. For two more weeks, I had convinced myself that I gained all 58 pounds back. I am so not kidding. I couldn’t see what the mirror was showing me and I walked around depressed and angry with myself. My negative words soaked into my veins, the heaviness of my thoughts led to the heaviness of my body – I actually felt 58 pounds heavier. Once again that little bitch came back to taunt me “HA! I knew you’d gain it all back, how’d you do it this time, was it ice-cream, fries, HA! You gained all 58 pounds back, what a loser”. Every once in a while I’d have a moment of clarity and say “Deanna, it’s only three pounds, stop the insanity” but as soon as the words left my mouth it was doom and gloom all over again. I was scared shitless to say the least. Logically I knew I didn’t gain all the weight back but mentally I thought I did, I really did.

I forgot every damn thing the Goddess Marissa taught me. I didn’t know what to do, and as hard as I tried my mind kept fucking me. So one day I did what I normally do and jumped on the computer, checked Facebook, Twitter and started doing my blog roll–MCM Mama, Pasta Queen, The Lost Hawaiian, Gluten Free Betsy, MizFit, Pioneer Woman, Momma’s Soapbox , Secrets of a Former Fat Girl, and support came in. I didn’t go looking for it because as you all know when you are in that deep, feeling as depressed as a fat kid being turned away from a ride, the world around crumbles and caring about your weight is the last thing on your mind. When I clicked over to Roni’s Weigh and read her post a little light shined on my face after I read: “I used to think that I’d be happy once I was "skinny" but in reality the two are unrelated. And if you really want to succeed at anything, weight loss included, you really have to fall in the love with the process and have a positive attitude.”

I couldn’t believe how powerful those words were, they just struck me, kind of like being at the right place at the right time, I literally felt my craziness disappearing. Next, I hopped on over to Lyn at Escape from Obesity and I read this: “I trust that it will taste just the same as it has tasted every other time I have made it”, that hit me like a ton of bricks. Cue choir of heavenly voices. Why? Because that made so much fucking sense and I never ever thought of it, of food, of eating that way.

I have finished two half marathons in four weeks, but I had little to no trust in myself to be who I am. I realize I had to TRUST myself, that all would be okay, TRUST that I don’t need a snickers, TRUST that I don’t NEED to taste it ALL because I already know what it tastes like. So the moral of my story? TRUST that I can do this – TRUST that I won’t gain the weight back, TRUST that over time I will change those recordings in my head, TRUST that I will ask for support when I need it from my family, from my dearest friends in the world, or from my bloggity blog pals, TRUST that when I ask for help, I’ll get it. TRUST in myself, respect my body and TRUST that eating one french fry, okay about 10 small fries over the course of two weeks will not lead to obesity. TRUST that I will stop that before it happens. AGAIN. TRUST is a powerful word one that I have to use more often. TRUST… is the new voice in my head.

Out of the Mouth of Babes

And by babes, I mean the small versions of Al Bundy that run through my house with their hands down their pants and use farting as their second language. So these two cuties, and really they are cute, have been slaying me recently with their pearls of wisdom of which I will now share with you.

As I was opening the windows in the house to take advantage of the beautiful weather the two year old with that curious look, and his beautiful blue eyes beaming at me muttered “Mom, why you doing that?” I responded, “To get some fresh air”, he didn’t miss a beat and shot back like a grumpy old man, “Go outside”.

I put a four-week ban on all Fast Food, so when we recently passed a McDonalds and didn’t stop my two year old flipped out. Which says a lot about me as a parent and the fact that I got my son so addicted to french fries he behaves like a meth head coming down if he doesn’t get his fix, but I digress. So his carrying on just kept carrying on, my six year old was so over it and was basically annoyed by the sound of his brothers voice, so he turned to him, rolled his eyes and dead panned “Stop being so dramatic”. Classic.

A few nights ago after cuddling for about a half hour, my six year old gets off the couch, then stopped, and innocently said “wait a second”, backed up, and sat back down. I thought we were going to have another cuddle session when he rips a killer farts, grins, said “that’s all I got”, then he walked away calmly to go watch Bambi in the other room. But, considering how that mom faired in that movie, I’ll stick with the stinky fart.

I hate food shopping, and with the kids well, let’s just say I rather have a tooth pulled. I just wanted to run in and out, so I crossed my fingers, stuck the two year old in the cart, and sped through the store. At the produce section a sweet little old granny comes up and was admiring my son. I mean, who wouldn’t he’s cute as a button, has sparkling blue eyes and seems very approachable however, she smiles at him and before she can say a thing– he shouts at the top of his lungs: “GO HOME”. I’m not sure, but I believe her dentures fell out, I mean, her mouth stayed wide open for like 20 seconds, and I don't believe I saw any teeth. I apologized and booked like Flo Jo to the checkout stand.

As I was blow drying my hair, I heard some mumbling in my sons’ room, since he’s two and can’t be trusted, I shut off the dryer to hear what he’s saying, “JESUS Christ! JEEESUSSS CHRIST!” Perplexed, I sneak a peek in his room and there he is standing by himself looking in the mirror, perhaps he found God ?

“MOMMMY, GET ME OUT OF HERE, OPEN THE DOOR”, is what I hear every day after my two-year wakes from his nap. He acts as if he’s in solitary confinement for a crime he didn’t commit. Now here’s the kicker, most mornings at around 5 a.m. he climbs out of his crib, opens his door and crawls into our bed. Not sure why he can’t handle that at 2:00 p.m. Maybe he’s still stoned from his Goldfish intake? Maybe yellow dye #5 has damaged his brain? Just can’t figure out why he doesn’t trust himself to scale the prison walls – perhaps he’s not sure when he’s gonna come down from his high?

On a visit to the Central Park Zoo with my entire family – Aunts, Uncles, Cousins…you know the drill, any way, my seven year old nephew, who is at most times the smartest person in the room, skeptically asked his adult counterparts if we knew where we were going, can’t say that I blame him, we have been known to get lost while running 10k’s wherein we added about three unnecessary miles to our route, but this time we all felt confident enough to say yep, we knew where we were going. I jokingly replied, “Don’t worry I’ve got a GPS in my nose”. To which he sized me up, smirked and then kindly snarked “So does my father, but he can’t find his way through our house”.

As my nephew was opening his birthday gifts (mind you the same wise ass as above), he got so excited when he unwrappred a new microscope, when I say ecstatic, I mean ecstatic. He hooted, hollered and totally did a Jersey Shore fist pump, when he came down from his high, he said as calm as ever “This is even better than the crappy one I have”. I peed my pants, literally peed.

And the best of the week: The boys were wrestling, tossing each other like a salad, when Richie got a bit more banged up then he wanted from the Sumo Wrestler that is his two-year old brother, and started to cry. The little one goes up to him and says, “It’s okay Richie. I’m your best friend.” Guess who started crying??

Now, really kids do say and do the darndest things and I’m lucky enough to have such wonderful ones in my life.

My Top 5

A certified healthy eating and fitness expert I am not, but a gal who is a wife, mom of two very active boys, pushing 40, has a busy life and lost 58 pounds (and still going), who has brought her fitness to a new level and now has bragging rights of saying that “I ran a half marathon” is who I am. For me, and my food issues, losing weight is 90% emotional and 10% physical. I’m still working on my emotional eating but am happy to report that I finally understand the power of good nutrition. I came to that conclusion by working with a top NYC nutritionist, Marissa Lippert, MS, RD, from Nourish-NYC, through the Health Magazine Feel Weight Great Program. Marissa inspired me to understand and acknowledge everything that I was putting in my mouth.

Below are the Top 5 Tips that have really helped me, however there is a ton more information out there, I had seven (7) months of education from Marissa – but I wanted to share these, because they became my foundation so to speak, the ones I hang on to with everything I got when I am having a horrible day, week, errr month!

Top 5 Tips:

1) Keep a Food Journal: Annoying? Yes!! This is still a challenge but I do it, even if the kids are crawling on me, or the two year old is yelling “I want to play Elmo on the puter”, I do it. It works, for me ‘cause writing everything down the good, like say I ate a cup of broccoli, the bad, like say I ate a half of cupcake and the ugly, like say I really ate three cupcakes, keeps me accountable and I am able to “see” thus understand what I am eating!

2) No processed food: This turned out to be the easiest tip of them all – there are so many choices of tasty healthy yummy delish foods that I can turn into a party in my mouth! I shop on the perimeters of all food stores, got my ass out of the inside aisles where all the processed crap is. If I do go inside the aisles, it’s for tomatoes (no salt added! I’m kissing Marissa ass, cause I am going to get in trouble over the next paragraph!), beans, rice, lentils, spices, cake mix (‘cause I am not Betty Crocker, nor do I want to be, and let’s face it, my kids have birthdays and we make cupcakes, see above) or stuff like that.

I try to stick to a lot of veggies and fruits, but don’t get me wrong I’m not perfect and sometimes when the kids are driving me nuts I hit the pedal to the medal and am driving through McDonald’s faster than Dale Earhart Jr. at the Indy 500. Well, I can be really lazy, and tired, and sometimes, the fry’s are calling my name. Yes, they really are, I hear them singing really softly “Deeeeannnnnnaaaaaa, Deeeeannnnnnaaaaaa, Deeeeannnnnnaaaaaa.” The differences now are the choices that I make. When I answer the fry’s calls, I pair them with the southwest grilled chicken salad and everyone’s happy.

I try to manage my obstacles to the best of my abilities and I am trying desperately not to beat myself up if I happen to go hog wild– it will only cause future problems like binges! My grandma always said everything in moderation! In addition, Marissa advised me to think of my eating as a scale, if I go up at one meal bring it down at the next, which really worked for me.

3) Portion control:Understanding portions. So a cup is not a cup unless you measure it, eyeballing a cup means you’re going over a real cup and man was I going over a real cup. Now I read the labels and stick to the CORRECT serving size for everything. I was originally eating three cups of pasta when it should have been one cup and eight ounces of protein when four-to-six ounces is the correct portion. No wonder I was overweight!

4) No soda:I drink water, tea, coffee, unsweetened ice-tea, and seltzer ONLY! I am big into flavoring my water and seltzer with lemon. Because taking Diet Soda away from me was like taking dollar bills out of a strippers g-string, the goddess Marissa advised to limit my Diet Soda to three times a week, now instead of using the Diet’s as a crutch, it’s a treat. With coffee and tea I use no artificial sweeteners, or half & half, only the real deal.

5) Exercise:I got off my ass and started walking, whenever I could for 30 minutes, when I didn’t feel so fat, clumsy and when the stabbing chest pains subsided, I added a little jogging, for like 10 seconds. I increased the intensity as I got stronger; soon I was able to do one lap around the track, than 2, and so on and so forth. After two years of working on my running, I accomplished a half marathon without collapsing or stopping. Now I do what I can around the family’s ridiculously busy, and totally unnecessary schedule, I mean track, soccer and t-ball? Please! We are so that overscheduled family that Dr. Phil talks about. I say screw that bald-fat-rat-bastard! However, the key is I do what I enjoy, when I get bored, I add something to change it up.

Now granted these tips are tips you’ve heard A MILLOIN times before, and I know I’ve read these a billion times, but for some reason when Marissa explained them to – it clicked! But it only clicked when I made it less overwhelming, making all these changes at once, never works, it makes you give up or at least makes me give up, instead I chose to focus on one item until I mastered it, and then I moved onto the next thing - slow and steady baby! It’s really about doing what I can in the moment. I try not to beat myself up if I don’t work-out, or indulge, and I am working on treating myself with respect, loving who I am at whatever weight, and living life as if every day could be the last.

If you have any questions about nutrition, post it in a comment, Marissa and I are happy to answer them.

Marissa’s blog is:DIET is four letter word and her book – The Cheaters Diet - hits stores on April 15, 2010. Pre-order at Amazon NOW!!