Courage and shame

So, let's start with some good news: It may just have been a GI bug! My symptoms have completely resolved already. In the past, the diarrhea lasted for days, so let's cross all things crossable that I can continue to take Wegovy. It's been really helpful to me and I was bummed that the solution may have just been to scrap that and try something else. But, bonus, I lost 6.6 pounds since my last weigh-in with all the explosions. I'll take it!

In other good(ish) news, I finally worked up the courage to tell Nasur that I was blogging again and that I wanted to talk to him about everything. That took a lot of courage for me because I have a lot of shame surrounding my weight. Nasur has never seemed to care about my weight, but when I met him, I was significantly less heavy than I am now (like 210 pounds). I've also completed a residency, had 2 children, developed a lot anxiety, and become an attending, sooo...

Back to the shame note. I'm not sure when I developed such a sense of shame about my body and my weight. I remember growing up and we never really talked about weight in my household. My doctor never said anything at doctor's visits, either. And honestly, I don't know if it would have changed anything. It's not like I was blissfully unaware that I was overweight. I distinctly remember being 200 pounds in like 7th or 8th grade. I also remember having a very hard time finding clothes that fit that weren't matronly because the stuff in bigger sizes was always meant for older women. That's probably a major reason why I hate shopping to this day. Nevertheless, the point of this rambling is to say that I am ashamed of letting myself get this big again. I'm ashamed of how I'm probably known as the fat one in my group of friends. I'm ashamed of the fact that there are things I simply don't fit in because of my size. It's embarrassing because I feel like it's my fault. Now, my obesity medicine doctor would tell me that it's not entirely my fault. Could I make better food decisions? Yes. Could I exercise more? Sure. But, one of the things I found really helpful in working with her is that she pointed out how much less disordered my eating is when on these medications. I don't binge. I eat reasonable portions. I snack less between meals. And she emphasized that it's okay that I need a medication to help me with that. So, now I have to be okay with that. And by talking to Nasur, I'm working towards being okay with myself too. Unfortunately, it appears Nasur now has the GI bug, so he's out of commission tonight. So, despite all this courage I worked up, the conversation still hasn't happened because I sent him off to bed. Here's hoping I'm courageous tomorrow!

Diarrhea as a weight loss tool: Don't recommend it, but highly effective

Consistency, wherefore art thou, consistency?

Doing this whole weight loss thing again is hard. I think it's even harder this time around because I am judging myself so much harder. I remember when I first started this whole thing back in 2010/2011 and I celebrated being able to run a mile nonstop. I was so excited. Like literally beaming with pride for myself. It didn't matter that it took over 12 minutes, I was pumped. But, now even though I probably couldn't run a mile nonstop, I cringe at the fact that I celebrated that. Like, I should be able to run a mile. Can't most healthyish folks run a mile? See? I'm even judging younger me. But what I should be doing is setting goals and working towards them and celebrating my achievements along the way rather than shaming myself for not being able to do them in the first place. So, why am I not doing that? I don't know. Ask my brain. It's the one running this shit show.

Today I had an impromptu day at home. I was supposed to be in the office, but Reyah became Pukey McPukerson, so I stayed home with her and had a tiny bit of time to organize my thoughts, my refrigerator, and goals. First, I ordered foods that I know I've enjoyed in the past to make sure I've got the things on hand that I like. Because I couldn't venture out, I did my first Walmart+ delivery and it was pretty legit. I prefer to pick out my produce, but the shopper did just fine, so maybe that's a good way to get some time back during the week. Next, I contemplated what my next goal should be. As the weather gets warmer, I'd like to bust out my roller blades again. I'm so not good, but I would love to get better. I'd also like to be more consistent with my weight lifting. I love, love, love lifting weights and building muscle, but it took me 6 months to work up the courage to do it again. And I was pretty proud of myself for doing it. Last goal is to talk about this more. I think one of the reasons I've been successful in the past is because I made it a priority and talked to a lot of folks about what I was doing. This time I feel like I'm hiding in shame because a) I'm embarrassed that I'm doing this again but b) because if I'm not always on the forward progress train, it feels like a failure. Also, I really need to loop in Nasur, which is a bit of mindfuck for me. By telling him what I'm doing and working really hard at it, he has a front row seat to my binges, failures, faults, etc. He has only judged me once (one time, when pregnant, he asked me if I was planning to eat a whole bag of some type of chip/pretzel/etc because I kept closing it and then going back for more, but we were in the car, he was driving, and constant snacking was the only thing that kept my super not awesome first trimester nausea at bay) and obviously I still remember it. So, I'm scared that he will be judging me/ashamed of me too, if that makes sense.

Last goal: Writing in this damn thing again. Even if it's only a sentence because it does hold me accountable. It's hard to do it on the regular with my garbage schedule, what with call ruining the 24 hour that I'm on call and the 24 hours after, but I have got to stop using that as an excuse and adapt to the trash that is my work schedule.

Anywho, cheers! Here's a weigh-in so we can all judge me together!

Well, fuck

Women who talk about how full they are are crazy

Yes, there will be photos at the end. But you can't look at them until you read this because I'm going to rant...kinda.

So, I went to a bridal shower on Sunday for a dear friend from undergrad. It was awesome seeing her again and meeting some of her close friends. The not awesome part? Being alone with a large group of women for a frilly party. I'm not, nor have I ever been, a woman who is all into her looks, how she is perceived, etc. I mean, yeah, now I care a bit more, but not so much - it's low on my priority list. Anywho, I decided not to eat lunch given that the party was at 1, so I thought I'd be fed. And I once. There was an awesome quiche, a great salad, a fruit skewer and muffin for the main part. And then when they started offering seconds, no one took any because every woman was full. Um, seriously? A slice of quiche, a few forkfuls of salad, a muffin, and 6 teeny pieces of fruit and you're full? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? And thus, I was shamed out of having seconds. And to make things worse, a few women went on about how bloated they felt because they ate so much. SERIOUSLY? Do you have the world's tiniest stomach? Do you even have a stomach? I HAVE SEEN A STOMACH AND IT CAN FIT MORE. 

Then, after the gift opening, they passed around dessert. Some women didn't take any because they were "too full." I fucking took some. Duh. It was a lemonade ice cream cake/pie/thing. Basically, the crust was made of walnuts and other delicious smashable things, and then the woman mixed lemonade with ice cream and put it in the crust. It was good and the pieces were appropriately sized and there were a few women who "couldn't eat it all." Why? What would happen if you did? And there were others who complained about how rich it was. Um, I'm sorry, when did things other than like chocolate start being described as rich? A sauce? Yeah, I could see that. BUT LEMONADE ICE CREAM? That's not rich. It's tart. It's tangy. It's sweet. But it's not fucking rich.

After the shower, some of the young kiddos, the bride-to-be, and her fiancé and I went out for coffee (which I skipped on because coffee is gross) and then headed back to my place around 8 pm. When we got there, I offered some chips and salsa and fruit to everyone after getting everyone a glass of water, but some of the girls were still full from lunch. Now that is just fucking baffling because it was 6 hours prior. But whatever. So I ate a fucking sandwich when they left because I was fucking starving.

Now, to the point: WHY DO WOMEN DO THAT? Is there some secret competition where you win if you eat the least? I mean, maybe if you're competing for least weight, but what the fuck? I hate it when women do that. It just makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable the whole time you're around and I'm eating.

Anyway, I switched to colorectal surgery today. Standing all day hurts. A lot. And I finally went strength training so I hurt everywhere anyway.

Today's positive: I talked to a friend about how stupid women can be and she totes agreed and shared her own story about comparing herself to women at the gym. I GET IT, GIRL.

Photos:

Today's weigh in. Goal next week is 236.4

Sunday's pre-gym snack

Today's post-work snack

Today's breakfast

Tomorrow's lunch: grapes, watermelon, grilled chicken with BBQ sauce

Trapped in my own head

Last night, a friend of a friend (whom I don't know too well) told me that I may as well not work out when I told her that when we met up for dinner, we should go someplace where I could get pizza and/or fries. Now, to be fair, she doesn't know me well and she doesn't know that I'm struggling with food, working out, being healthy, etc. But, holy shit, did I freak out...because that's what I do. I felt judged and after that response, like I couldn't eat those things around her. So, after my workout, I ate waaay too much food so I wouldn't be hungry when we went out for dinner. Granted, I kept it pretty healthy, but I had carrots with some yogurt ranch dressing, pretzels, slices of cheese, a yogurt, and fiber one snacks. It was more than I would normally eat, but I was so preoccupied with feeling like I should fill up now and that I shouldn't eat fries or pizza (which is what I was craving) that I couldn't focus on anything else. It's stupid. And I'm annoyed that I have so many preoccupations with food. But, I have them. And instead of enjoying pizza or fries, I freak out. Because, to be honest, I know that to be successful, I shouldn't be eating those things. But at the same time, holy fuck, that's all I want. Struggggggles. And it's hard when you feel judged every time you order something that isn't healthy. Like, last semester, I bought a donut at the hospital cafeteria and all I could think of was how the employee at the cash register must be thinking that this fat woman really does not need a donut. HOLY FUCK. IT'S JUST A DONUT. But to me, it's a pastry filled with guilt and shame. And I don't need it. But I wanted it. And I felt as though I should eat it in secret or let as few people as possible know that I was eating that because me, being overweight and having gained weight recently, didn't need the donut. AND I DIDN'T EVEN ENJOY IT BECAUSE I WAS TOO TRAPPED IN MY OWN FUCKING HEAD.

Ughs. I'm so sick of this. I don't know how to stop myself from feeling bad about one indulgence. But when other people comment, it makes it that much harder. Because, trust me, anything you've said, I've thought at least 10 times already.

And I know this guilt and shame is self induced. And I'm trying to stop. I am. But justifying every single fucking thing you put in your mouth is just exhausting. For example, today I made myself English muffin pizzas. Now, they're pretty healthy: whole wheat English muffin, tomato sauce, low fat cheese...and then I add pepperoni. Why? Because I fucking like pepperoni. But then, do I need the pepperoni? No. Is the pepperoni good for me? No. It adds anywhere from 60-100 calories and anywhere from 6-10 grams of fat. So, anywho, today when I was making myself English muffin pizzas, I was thinking about how if I were really committed to losing weight, I would stop adding pepperoni. But I really do like the pepperoni. Do you see what I mean? I am constantly second guessing what I eat. It's stupid. And yet I do it.

Okay, let's move on.

On a positive note, things are going better in terms of getting myself to the gym. I've remembered how much I like lifting weights. I like feeling strong and I like having defined muscles, so I'm looking forward to the changes that will bring. I also like the feeling of having accomplished something, even if it is just one workout. I'm also started to get more optimistic. It helps that Spring is finally making itself known.

And, since I don't know how to end this [now that I've probably horrified you], here are food pictures:

Today's immediate post-workout food cuz I didn't want to wait until I'd made the whole breakfast

The rest of breakfast

Lunch

Counter to Success!
Gym days this week: 3
Total gym days during this challenge: 3
Days without sweets or weighing myself: 5
Days without eating past 8 p.m.: 4