A Little History

Just so ya know. I'm sick and tired right now. I usually love my job and am surrounded by wonderful people trying to make a difference.

Over the past 13 months, though, we've suffered through two major losses. First, my direct manager died suddenly (he was nearly 3 years younger than me). They appointed a new person, and he's doing a great job. But his management style is different, so there have been adjustments. I realize that's just a fact of life.

Then last month, two days shy of the first anniversary of my boss's death, the mayor died. I've been at my job for nearly 15 years, and he'd been mayor for nearly twelve of them. So now we have more changes. Once again, they've appointed someone I hear great things about. Change is inevitable here, too.

I'm sick and tired of the way politics tend to play out. Why is that when people disagree over an issue, the person they disagree with must be cast as a villain--evil or a liar? Can't they just agree to disagree and move on? Or, heaven forbid, work together on a compromise everyone can live with?

I've been disgusted watching it on the national level, but it really sickens me when I see it on the local level. It really leaves a bad taste in my mouth. We've got a viper in our midst right now who goes around to the press behind our backs and makes it look like we're all either incompetant or liars--all because this person is frustrated at not getting his/her way. And it looks as though at least one of the candidates is finding an audience in the current economy that's fueled by the hateful Washington poison. If this person wins (and I fear it may be likely), the amount of poison making its way into the work environment is going to increase.

Venting here, I know. My reason is to set my current mood.

Disclosure: I'm a whiner today. There are so many people in much worse condition than I'm in. I acknowledge this. But this post is about the beginning of a quest, and I feel it's important to lay my starting point.

I'm sick and tired of fighting the weight battle. My mom put me on my first diet when I was 13. Yeah. I've been dieting for 44 years. That's longer than my deputy's been alive. I was 5'7" and had hit 140 pounds. I understand my mom's concern. She'd fought the weight battle all her life, and she didn't want me to have to go through it.

Um, mom. Epic fail here. Sorry.

I've done a lot of study on healthy eating, and I try and practice what I  know. Obviously I'm not perfect. but I do exercise regularly. Yet I'm still fat. Probably not as fat as I would be if I hadn't been fighting all this time.

I'm just worn out and feel inclined to give up, but I can't stand the thought of what giving up means. I've been active all my adult life. I don't want to surrender my energy, flexibility, or ability to move that I have (limited though it may be at my age and with the fat I have).

Over the last few weeks, the issue of how to proceed has weighed heavily on my mind. I've had a couple of successful weightloss sessions. One was after Paul was born, and I lost 42 pounds. I did the How to Lower Your Fat Thermostat used with the Neuropsychology of Weight Control. It worked well, I wasn't hungry, and I felt great. But when I got preggers with Adam, I found that all those great foods that had sustained my in my weight loss efforts made me want to vomit.

Typical. Like when I found out that my phenominally low cholesterol (between 107 and 124) could also indicate an increased risk of cancer. Really? I've actually got something going FOR me and now they're saying it's not so wonderful after all.

I gained a lot of the weight I'd lost back but worked on getting in the groove again after giving birth to Adam. I wasn't able to get back down to that same weight again, but I was definitely way ahead of where I'd started.

Then my children got into the difficult teen years. Did I mention I'm an emotional eater? We'd moved, and I was doing a long commute via bus. I'd leave the house at 6:15 a.m. and get home about 5:55 p.m. I'd do How to Lower Your Fat Thermostat, and it'd work well ... for a while. For example, I did very well once for nine months--didn't go off it once. One of the secretaries got me a birthday cake. Such a nice gesture to buy me a cake when my own family didn't bother. I felt an obligation to have a piece. Big mistake. One thing I've discovered about myself: once I say "yes" I stop saying "no".

Seriously, it's a good thing drugs have never appealed to me.

And all through this we dealt with children struggling with mental illness. We've survived, but remember, I'm an emotional eater.

About eight years ago I gave the South Beach Diet a try. I was ready for a change and in the perfect frame of mind. And it worked. Just like Dr. Agatston said it would. I didn't crave the foods I shouldn't eat, and the weight just dropped off. I lost 13 pounds the first two weeks and 56 pounds over 6 months. I was down to what I'd weighed when my hubby and I'd gotten married.

But then the weight loss stopped. I still needed to lose some, and I plugged away for another 6 months. Not one pound lost. I didn't make the connection until later. I'd gone into menopause. Something strange and unexpected happened. When my cycles stopped, so did the weight loss.

Wonderful. I had something good happen (an almost uneventful change of life) but now I can't lose weight anymore.

Like the eating thing, I have diet program issues, too. Once I've gone off one I have a really hard time getting back on to it again.

I've tried Weight Watchers, but I get sick of counting. I know I can do the Core plan. But I don't want to. I remember the first time I tried WW, it was back before they had any of the low or nonfat foods. We had to make our own salad dressing with packages of Hidden Valley Ranch seasoning packets in ... buttermilk. I hate buttermilk.

So what's my point?

I'm sick of all this. All of it.

But you know what I'm even more sick of? All these extra pounds of fat I still carry. And the older I get, that pear figure (that's healthier than an apple because it means I had less fat in my belly) goes away and my body turns more applish all the time. I read one health book that talked about the issues of being an apple and a pear, and one thing really struck me. As children we start out as apples. Then we do our apple or pear thing. But in the end, as time takes its told on us, nature is bound and determined to turn us back into apples. I believe it.

What's a girl to do?

Should I throw in the towel? Do I just give up? I'm tempted. It's seemed really appealing to me the last couple of months. I don't want to do this anymore.

And then this gets me. Every. Dang. Time.

The alternative isn't acceptable.

Yet, I can't do the same ol', same ol'. Einstein is attributed with defining insanity as:

doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

Now what? Well, I've got some things going around in the back of my mind. Scary, I know.

There's something coming up at work that could be the motivation I need to do ... something. I'm hoping to use my blog as a way to be accountable. Only time will tell if it works. At the very least, it may keep me motivated for a couple of months. At the most, it might set me on the path to success.

To be continued ...