Monday, and memories...

Holy losing an hour, batman!!

I love the "return of the sun" - no doubt, and it's supposed to be upwards of 60 degrees here today - W00T! But wow, losing that hour this weekend was TOUGH.

How easily my "delicate composition" is disturbed!

I just went outside for a little walk and man, is it gorgeous. It would be a perfect day to play hookie!

However, I have a much better use for the PTO days I am trying
(desperately) to accumulate. My plastic surgery.

Yes, it's still in my plan. I hoping for fall - but I want to be down to at least 175 first. Tummy tuck and brachioplasty (arm lift). I am going to a new plastic surgeon who is SURE she can get the tummy tuck covered. It's a hard thing to do, for sure, but because of my access hanging skin (TMI, I know) I have rashing and skin irritation so badly, that it has bled. It has become infected. I have been to the dermatologist a few times now and she has given me creams to use. They burn... but they do help clear things up temporarily. Summer is the worst... Anyway, with all of this info, this doc is sure that insurance will cover it, and I will pay out of pocket for my arms. Actually, my mom is helping me with that. She told me she knows how much it bothers me and she wants to help. It DOES bother me, for sure. I look at these awesome muscles I am forming, and then I see this huge flap of skin dangling from underneath the arm. It's gross. I don't wear anything sleeveless, and prefer to not even wear short sleeved things. Sometimes, you just have to, however. The heat of the summer just won't allow for 3/4 sleeves!

This weekend was good... got in a great workout on Saturday, eating was great, but I have not run since my race last weekend! *gasp* Very bad!! This week I vow to get in at least 2 runs, and next week I am going to up it, since I will be on spring break from classes and my evenings will be free (well, mostly)

I am scared and excited to weigh in on Friday. I am hoping and praying I see the number I want to see - the number I have been waiting YEARS to see: anything with a 1 in front of it!
I know the numbers are "arbitrary"... I feel really good. My clothes are getting bigger and bigger... my wedding rings are getting loose again... I am eating really well, with no junk... All good signs that I am losing weight. I just don't want to get on the scale and see little-to-no change.

I fantasize about being safely in the 190's... only to continue to move down from there.

At 180/185 I will book my consult appointment with the plastic surgeon.
Ok - back to reality.

Friday will be what it will be. It will not change what I am trying to do. I am trying to recover. I cannot let whatever number on the scale effect that. I have spent pain-staking time writing out what my recovery, working the program, and abstinence mean to me. It's an ever evolving process. Te most important aspects right now are:

Not consuming sugar, white flour, and little to no processed foods.
Attending meetings
Being in touch with my sponsor
Being in touch with my HP

There are other aspects to my recovery, but these are paramount.

My next task in my recovery? Writing my food history. The story of my relationship with food. Everything I can think of. When did I start hiding food? When did I start to feel out of control? Points where it seemed to get better, or worse? Everything. This is going to take a while, as my relationship with food is loooong standing. I have a vivid memory of being in kindergarten and feeling ashamed of wanting food... how, at such a young age, could I have possibly felt ashamed of wanting what every other kid around me wanted too? There we all stood, in our classroom, and we were having ice cream sundaes. We all stood in line, waiting out turn to get our little dish of ice cream and toppings. One of the adults said something about me looking like I was "licking my chops"... and I was mortified. My cheeks burn red even now. How did I know I should be ashamed?

I also remember vividly the first time someone called me fat. I was in 2nd grade. I didn't know I was fat! I remember crying so hard, going home and eating those feelings down... 2nd grade... It was the same year we had a Thanksgiving Feast in our classroom. Parents were invited, and we all wore little pilgrim and Indian hats and all brought in food to share. When it was time to get up and get food, I sat in my chair and cried. I was so embarrassed to get up and get food and eat in front of others, all I could do was sit and cry. My poor teacher had no idea what was going on! Why did I feel that way?

These moments in my life live in me as though they were yesterday. My eyes sting with tears and my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

*sigh* So, as you can see, this task is going to take a while.

But, I will do whatever it takes to recover. I will do whatever it takes to live a sane life.

Ok, this is getting deep, so I'm outta here... Peace, my soldiers - keep moving forward!