Intense

I just got back from a therapy session, one of the most intense and powerful of them all. As I type this, my heart is still racing and my hands are still shaking from the meditation exercise Esther guided me in. She seems to think that when problems are brought to the surface by meditation, it is easier to let them go, to let them release from my mind and body and soul. She brought up something so powerful today, something that is always there in the back of my mind, something I don't let myself feel on a regular basis because of what I experienced a few minutes ago.

After a period of deep breathing, she asked me to find something in my soul that caused me distress. Not to try hard to find it--just to concentrate on whatever came up. Immediately, without a thought, I began to envision all the men in my life who've caused me to be afraid of love. I could see their faces and hear their voices, I could remember all of the moments I've been trying so hard to forget.

One by one, they started popping into my head: My grandpa, with his words of ugliness and incompetency. My dad, with his moodiness and violent streaks and how we needed to walk on eggshells to not upset him. Andrew, my first "love", who repeatedly told me he would give any girl a chance, but laughed at the thought of loving me (despite my confessed love to him.) Wil, my old therapist, with whom I'd had a major breakthrough, finally letting down my walls and trusting him, only to hear that he was leaving the office and couldn't be my therapist anymore.

As I sat there, hearing the voices and seeing the faces and reliving moments I so desperately wanted to forget, I could feel my muscles clench and my eyes water. I could feel my brow furrowing itself into a headache. I could feel my heart rate and breath rapidly increase as though I was having a panic attack. I felt confined in my body, as though I couldn't move. As I went on, the voices got louder and the faces got bigger. I was right back in those places I thought I never needed to revisit. All I could think was "get me away from here!" and yet I couldn't leave. I needed to stay and face it and physically push the memories away. It took me a good 20 or so minutes to really relax enough to even talk about my experience.

There are reasons why I can not open up to men and be myself around them. There are reasons why I put up walls and feel uncomfortable. These memories I faced today, and am still facing now, are those reasons. The feelings of incompetency, of abandonment, of trying so hard to please my grandpa and make Andrew love me, all of them spinning in my brain again and coming back to the surface. They need to go. They need to be free so I can let myself trust and love and share with another human being. They need to be let loose so I don't have to be afraid to trust and love and share with myself.

THIS is what I've been waiting for and working towards.

I didn't know it could be this hard, that I'd been suppressing these memories and feelings for so long. I know it is going to continue to be hard work to let all of this go. I want to say that I am 100% ready to take it all on, but I just don't know if I can handle it right now, in the midst of moving to NYC, starting over, going back to school.

But I can do it, because my soul needs me to. And because my soul mate--wherever he may be right now--needs me to.

I am mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted. My head still aches from the pressure it was under. I feel the need for a good dinner, a good cry, and maybe a book or movie to take my mind off of everything.

I don't ask for this often, but if you pray, please pray that I will have the strength to let this all go like I need to.

Goals for the Week

1. To drink as much water as possible--I'm beginning to wonder if my constant hunger (and it is legitimate hunger, not emotional eating or anything like that) is not a result of exercising too much, but of not drinking enough water and being dehydrated. Will be interesting to see what happens.
2. To get on the tough monster of a machine every day this week for a full 15 minutes.
3. To finally get my pants and new little black dress to a tailor for alterations.
4. To FINALLY finish the liturgy paper that has been hanging over my head all year long.
5. To sing through a few pieces of the HHD music that will soon become a huge, exciting challenge.
6. To pray every day. Pray for myself, for others, for the world, and for the beautiful being who urgently needs God to hold her right now. To find time to just be with God.
7. To remember these words and keep share them with anyone who might need to hear them:

"Hope is the thing with feathers--That perches in the soul--And sings the tune without the words--And never stops--at all."
~Emily Dickinson

How Much Good Can YOU Do?

This morning at the gym, for no particular reason, I decided to hop on a machine I had struggled through and given up on when I first started my routine a few weeks ago. Something was drawing me back to this machine, and while I didn't know why at first, I decided to listen to that something and try the machine again. I stepped on the pedals, played with the buttons as I set my weight and distance, and all of the sudden it hit me. I needed to be on this machine to struggle, to huff and puff and blow lots of good healthy air towards my friend Tikva. Tikva, born June 10, has been thriving and amazing everyone around her despite life-threatening circumstances. Her mom, Gal, sent out a request for specific visions and prayers to help Tikva breathe easily, digest her healthy milk and formula without reflux, and continue to thrive and amaze all of the people in her life. As I stepped onto this machine, I realized that I could do my part to help Tikva by asking God to temporarily allow ME to struggle for her while I exercised. For 15 minutes, I decided to huff and puff and sweat and struggle as hard as I could so that Tikva could take a break and breathe easily. I don't know how it turned out on Tikva's end, but for me, my prayer resulted in an amazing and empowering workout. I did struggle non-stop while on the machine, but I made it through, smiling hugely as I pictured Tikva's gorgeous face and strong, healthy lungs.

So I have a charge for any of you who read this: Whenever you workout or challenge yourself physically, take a minute to ask God to let YOU struggle so that sweet baby girl can breathe easily for the duration of your exercise. Send her all of the good, strong breaths you can exhale. Push yourself as hard as you can so she can relax and enjoy the simple pleasure of non agitated breathing.

Imagine the good we could do for Tikva and her family if we all came together to do this for her.

As you exercise and pray, remind yourself and God that You're With Tikva. I know I am :)

Take THAT

To my surprise, after the bitter post about last night's horrible dinner experience, I woke up right away this morning, full of energy and ready to start the day. Too bad I couldn't go to the gym this morning (I am singing a shabbat service in a few minutes, and I don't like to exercise so close to when I sing--I'm planning on hitting the gym this afternoon, no worries.) Instead, I decided to cook myself a huge and hearty yet still low-points breakfast. I threw some diced green pepper and white onion into a pan, sauteed them until they were tender, and then added a few egg whites and scrambled it all. I finished them off with half a piece of Trader Joe's amazing low fat cheddar cheese (what did I do this past year without Trader Joe's? SERIOUSLY.) I sliced a beautiful tomato from the farmer's market and crisped up a Trader Joe's Whole Wheat and Flaxseed tortilla to make some baked tortilla chip like things and that was my breakfast. I am SO FULL right now of protein, whole grains, vitamins and nutrients and feel ready to take on my shabbat service and a busy Saturday.

I ate an entire dinner sized plate full of delicious food for...

4.5 points.

3 egg whites=1 point
1/2 piece of TJ's lowfat cheddar=1 point
1/4 tsp olive oil for sauteeing=0.5 point
1 TJ's Whole Wheat and Flaxseed tortilla=2 points
1/2 green pepper=0 points
1/2 white onion=0 points
1 gorgeous locally grown tomato=0 points

Take that, Growler's!

Restaurants

Restaurants, wake up and get a fucking clue.

It is NOT okay to charge me $11 for a plain chicken breast and dinky spoonful of rice. I could easily make the same thing at home for under $3.
It is NOT okay to charge $15 for a 6 oz piece of fish (tilapia...the salmon was even more expensive) when the 8 oz burger is half the price.
It is NOT okay to ignore my requests to leave the cheese and croutons off my salad and then give me a plate so I can remove the bad stuff myself instead of making me a new salad. Especially when you don't promptly return to take the plate away, giving me the opportunity to eat the delicious homemade croutons I love (and of course I ate every single one of them and now feel as though I let some silly stale pieces of butter-soaked bread break my strong resolve--which is exactly what happened.)
It is NOT okay to not have a healthy option on your menu that isn't a salad (which, given the bleu cheese, eggs, bacon, croutons, and high-fat dressing, isn't even a healthy option.)
It is NOT okay to make me feel like a pain in the ass for requesting healthier options instead of french fries or gloppy potato salad.
It is NOT okay to not make an effort to please your customers, to leave them feeling depressed, bad about themselves, and hugely disappointed in this world that seems to constantly ridicule and discourage fat people--especially when they're working like hell to not be fat people anymore.

And even though I know I'm right, there's still a little voice inside my head that says, "Tracy, it's just food."

I am an emotional eater. After years of denying it, there it is.

It infuriates me to know that what I really wanted for dinner I will probably never be allowed to eat again. It saddens me to realize this particular restaurant is just another one I will have to cross of my list. It aggravates me to know that even when I do allow myself to indulge, all I can think about is how bad the calories are and how much I shouldn't be eating whatever it is I am eating. It brings me to tears to watch my mom eat a delicious hamburger and homemade potato chips while I eat yet another boring chicken breast and salad.

And yet, all it is is ONE meal. ONE out of the THOUSANDS of meals I will eat in my lifetime. No need for emotional attachment, yet it is completely there and not willing to let go.

I am tired and need to sleep. Maybe more on this tomorrow.

Thursday Night Report

Instead of working out today, I decided to give myself a break after job #1 and go to my WW meeting this afternoon.

I lost 1 pound in 2 weeks. Considering I've been busting my ass at the gym almost every day the past 14 days, I was a little disappointed with the numbers. But, everyone has weeks like this, and the way that I've been eating hasn't been as great as it could have been. And between the Bat Mitzvah and my birthday and my homemade lower-fat banana bread (which I tend to forget still has calories and fat grams) I can't say I'm all that surprised. Ah, well, life goes on. 1 pound down is a lot better than 1 pound up!

This week has been a busy one, as I've been working 2 jobs, preparing Shabbatot to sing for, house-sitting, and working on my still unfinished liturgy paper and sermon for Aug 8. It's getting to the point where I can see how tough it is to track points and make sure I get to the gym as often as possible. I guess I'd forgotten what real life is like (i.e. what life will be like once I get into the swing of school again) and I realized that I am going to have to work extra hard to maintain and lose more weight.

I know I should be up for the challenge.
I know I should be enthusiastic about my new healthy ways.
I know I should be envisioning the Tracy I want to see in another year.
I know, I know, I know.

But for now, the thought of adding on to my gym routine (which is already kicking my ass) or giving up any more food or trying any sort of new technique is completely exhausting. It's hard to want to do more, though I realize as the numbers on the scale get smaller I am going to have to work harder to keep them decreasing.

I think for today, until I get over this gloomy patch, I am going to think about today.
Right here, right now.
What I need to do to make today the healthiest day it can be.

There are definitely days where the future looks bright, where I can envision myself thinner and healthier and stronger.
Today just isn't one of them.
And every now and then, I am okay with having one of those days.

-83.

I Am Worth It

One of the things I hate most about this whole process are the people who simply don't understand what it means to be on a weight-loss program. Actually, it's more the people who think they understand, and in reality have no idea that what they're saying or doing to you is more destructive than helpful.

2 examples from recent days:

1. Last night I went to a favorite restaurant with my mom, brother, and 2 of my mom's close friends whom I have known for years. I order the sweet and sour chicken dish, sauce on the side, with as little oil as possible on the veggies, as well as a side salad with dressing on the side. What happens? My salad comes, drenched in ranch dressing, which I can't eat. So I sit and wait for another salad, which comes somewhat quickly. Then, when our entrees are served, my chicken comes to me swimming in sugary sweet and sour sauce with the excess oil from the veggies floating at the top. I immediately send it back, only to receive a plate with the sauce on the side and veggies even more oily than before. As I am feeling like a terrible person, my brother calls the waiter back and uses his restaurant manager lingo (it's nice that he's studying hotel and restaurant management and knows how to talk to people in this situation) to demand the plate be taken back and the manager be sent over to our table. Finally, I get my order the way I ordered it, the price of the plate taken off the bill, and a gift certificate for another visit.

Meanwhile, everyone else at the table was finished and watching me eat my chicken, which I felt the need to fork down as fast as I could (though everyone repeatedly told me to take my time.) And I felt like a huge bitch for putting the poor waiter through hell and probably forcing him to take a pay cut for the night.

2. Just a few minutes ago, I was chatting it up with a friend (the same cynic of a friend from a few posts ago...) who is moving back to St Louis a few days before I leave for NYC, who is in town right now to apartment hunt. We're going to see Mamma Mia tomorrow night, and she suggested we get ice cream afterwards. And I say something to the effect of "Sounds good, as long as we can go somewhere where I can eat, too." She begins to tell me how she doesn't like WW because of moments like this, where you can't cheat and have that ice cream cone and just hop back on the next day, and blah blah blah. I interrupt her mid sentence to ask her NOT to go on, and not to tell me the reasons why my program is bad. I tell her that the program is working beautifully for me, that most of the time I am content with it, and that all I need her to say are things to the effect of "Yay, Tracy!"--words that respect my lifestyle and wishes. She can eat whatever the fuck she wants, but she needs to accept the fact that my choices are just that: MY CHOICES.

Once again, I felt like the biggest bitch in the world.

Except I know that I'm not a bitch. I am FINALLY standing up for myself and what my body, mind and soul all deserve. I am worth sending back a few plates and sticking up for the program that is teaching me healthy habits. I am worth my friends' or waiters' momentary discomfort and/or dissatisfaction.

I am even worth pissing people off now and then.

Especially when I go into a store and buy a perfect little black dress, and for the first time in my life consider wearing the sleeveless dress without a sweater over it. Hasn't happened yet (just bought the dress yesterday...) but I have a feeling it's coming.

I am so worth it all.

26

What a difference a year makes.

The picture in the red was taken on July 17, 2007, on my 25th birthday. The picture the the blue was taken exactly a year later, tonight, July 17, 2008. Hello, 26.

So much is different now, and I didn't notice it until really looking at these pictures. The slimmed-down face. The straight back and head held high. The glasses that used to look proportional and now are too big for my face (I'm hoping to get contacts when I go to the eye doc next week!) The ability to take a full body shot without cringing at the thought of what it will look like in the picture.

On the outside, the smile is the same. On the inside of the newer picture, it is a recognition of how far I've come and how much further I am going. It is hope and optimism and faith and love and contentment and strength. It's totally me, my best feature, and then and now my favorite part of myself.

1 year, 2 completely different people.

Happy birthday, Trace. Here's to 26 being as great as (or greater than) 25.

The Power of "I Can"

I totally kicked my ass today at the gym.

I have never been so tired from a workout; tired, hungry, thirsty, and yet so revved up for tomorrow.

In addition to my 2 miles on the treadmill and 15 mins of elliptical machine, I threw in 3 sets of 25 crunches and 2 sets of 12 modified push ups. I also did 2 sets of 20 back arch thingees (I can't remember what Dave used to call them, but I liked them...)

On the treadmill, my 3.0 MPG's was feeling slow today, so I went for 3.3 MPG's. Not a huge difference, but enough for now. On my second mile, I walked at a slight incline, also at 3.3 MPG's. Hoping to get to 3.5 or more MPG's by the time the summer is over. Walking fast is fun after dragging my mom around at her slow pace all summer!

After my workout I drank an entire 32 oz bottle of water and scarfed my granola bar like I'd never eaten before in my life. I then ate an entree-sized salad and some leftover homemade beet salad (one of my better ideas, I must say...) with similar vigor. I am still hungry, but trying to save up points for dinner. I'm thinking I want some of the yummy steamed chicken and veggies from the chinese place tonight, and maybe a cup of egg-drop soup. I'd say I earned it!

I pushed myself today, harder than I've ever pushed before, and my body responded beautifully. Yes I am tired and hurting and hungry, but I DID IT. And I will keep doing it.

Because I can.

25 years of always being the slow one in gym class, the girl who can't keep up, the girl who sits on the side instead of playing soccer with everyone else. That girl is no more.

Because now, I CAN.

A whole new outlook on life, inspired by a couple week's worth of progress at the gym.

Amazing.

If Dave could see me now, he'd be beaming. I know I am!

Chaverim

In strange contrast to the somewhat depressing blog I just wrote, there are a few people who deserve a shout-out for being there for me in the last few months. You guys are such bright lights in my life, and you make every day on this program so much easier to bear.

In no particular order:

~RGM--for writing me inspirational emails and reminding me that I can do this--I'm glad to know we're in this together again ;)
~Gal and Dave--for consistently reading and commenting on this blog, for all of your love, for letting me ask you a million questions about health and exercise, for proving the power of prayer and positivity
~Steph (Happy birthday, shutafah!)--for reminding me that I am loved and not alone, for introducing me to Thayer's, for enjoying 'cheat night' with me all last year
~Stefie--for hugs of encouragement, secretly needling me at the clinic (shhh...), letting me ask you a million questions about health and nutrition, supplying me with supplements and ideas to make my life better
~Leah--for knowing what a best friend really is, being such a support, such a believer, one of the brightest of the bright lights
~Mike and Joey--for giving me a reason to smile every time you call, for raising the bar, for telling me that I am beautiful and deserve good things
~Whitney--for all the new clothes, the random blog comments, for always thinking of me
~Aunt Diane--for being what my mom can't be, for loving me like I am your own, for everything you do for me and for us

You all make such a difference in my life and inspire me every step of the way. I love you and thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Sigh

I've been sitting here all night long, cooking dinner, watching some of the All-Star game, and wondering why the hell I have no desire to go out and attempt to be social.

That's been the theme for the year, really for the last almost 26 years.

It's true that I have very few friends left here in St Louis, and those who are here either don't want to give me the time of day (Andrew) or are busy people who call when they DO want to hang out. And when they want to do something, many times I don't really want to.

I don't think it is depression or anything like that. I do like to be with others, in quiet settings. I'm not a bar girl or a club girl; I'm really not all that interested in doing what other people my age like to do. I learned a long time ago that I am kind of an old soul, someone who'd rather sit at home with friends and good food and wine than at a noisy, expensive club. And while there is absolutely nothing wrong with that, I wonder why I don't have the desire to be more outgoing. Why would I rather sit at home alone than go with a bunch of people to one of the fun social arenas in STL? Why do I not want to make new friends or climb out of my box once in awhile?

Of course tonight my shoulder hurts from the elliptical machine, I am all PMS'y, somewhat depressed that there is no one to hang out with on Thursday, and pissed off at my mom for no real reason. Oh, and I have a huge craving for a pint of Ben and Jerry's or Ted Drewes, neither of which I can ever eat again. And it pisses me off.

Yep, I'd be fun to hang out with tonight.

80

I did it! 3.8 lbs down last night, I think due to my new workout routine and meticulously counting my points. Incredibly excited, relieved, and revved up for this challenging Bat Mitzvah weekend.

I also decided that I am moving my WW meeting nights to Thursday, as I've gone a couple of times on a Thursday night and really prefer the group leader and group itself. It's a good feeling to be a part of a warm, welcoming community again.

82 pounds gone. The amazing feeling of finally reaching the 80lb line. So sweet. So worthwhile. So healthy. So ME.

Visions to carry me through the 90lb threshold:
-Gradually increasing my time at the gym, trying new equipment and meeting great, encouraging people.
-Counting and getting a firm hold of my points values everyday, seeing those numbers as merely gentle "bumpers" (like in bumper-bowling) to keep me from rolling into the diet gutter.
-Eating the delicious homegrown tomatoes and peaches and blackberries that have finally arrived at my favorite produce market.
-Tikva continuing to breathe on her own, thriving, surprising and amazing her doctors and parents, smiling, coming home to her wonderful family.
-Enjoying my 26th birthday and treating myself to something wonderful.
-Finally finishing my liturgy paper and clearing that from my mind.
-Proudly delivering my sermon on August 8, without any nerve-caused glitches.
-The continued vision of myself as a healthy, happy, and successful woman, surrounded by friends and family and love.
-Continuing to learn lessons about who I am and what Gd has in store for me.

82 lbs.

BORRRRRRED

While bored at work this evening, I decided to go to the WW website and do some playing around. I used the recipe-builder tool (I think you can only use it if you're an actual member) to determine the number of points for my favorite chocolate chip cookie recipe, as I've been wanting a good CCC for a long time now. I learned that if I ate the entire batch of cookies in one sitting, I'd be swallowing 156 points, about 5 times my daily limit. Which means that I could technically live on nothing but CCC's for a week and still lose weight. I freakin' love this program.

(I have no plans to live on CCC's for a week, btw, in case I freaked anybody out. Just an interesting and fun way to pass the time.)

I've also been going online to restaurant websites and using their nutrition facts to determine the points values for my fave out-to-eat fare. Most of the results are pretty depressing, but at least now I know so I can save up for those special treats every now and then.

Can you tell I've spent the week tracking my points? It's the first time I've ever really done this, and I kind of like it. While it does feel a little anal-retentive, I can easily keep track of what I am eating and exactly how many points I am taking in. I am also tracking my exercise and trying not to let myself use the extra points I earn by exercising (I've been averaging 4 activity points a day...go me!)

Since I decided to work tonight, I will be going to my weekly WW meeting tomorrow night. Expect a blog about how that goes by the weekend.

I've been sitting in this office doing practically nothing for 6 hours now, and I've got another 30 minutes to go. Forgive me for this ridiculous, boredom-inspired post.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, if I make 36 cookies out of one batch, they're 4 points a piece. A bit high for one stupid cookie, but once in awhile a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do...

The Gym

Saturday morning I did something I haven't had the balls to do in over 5 years. I went to the gym. A real gym. With machines and weights and (gasp!) other people.

I stopped going to public gyms after my sophomore year of college, when one of the 'sorostitute' types pointed at me, laughed, and said to her friend, "What is she doing here?" I wanted to shout back at her "I'm baking a turkey, what the hell do you think I'm doing here?!?" But I didn't. Instead, I never showed my face around there again, and never had the guts to step foot into another gym like that.

Until Saturday. I was tired of my usual swimming routine and the changing and disgusting locker rooms that accompany it and needed a change of pace. I decided to go to the 'gym' section of the JCC and investigate the machines and the mood of the place. In the end, I decided I liked it and hopped on the treadmill for a slow (is a 20-minute mile considered slow?) 1-mile treadmill warm up. I guess somewhere along that mile I decided I wanted to try the elliptical machine, which was my next stop. 15 minutes of huffing and puffing and SERIOUS sweating accompanied that, followed by another mile on the treadmill. I enjoyed the routine, liked the warm-up, intense workout on the elliptical, and cool-down. I also enjoyed researching online to find out that I burned almost 500 calories in the hour I worked out. That was very exciting, though I don't know if the info on the website I used was valid or pulled from nowhere. How does one determine the amount of calories burned from a workout?

I also managed to bump into almost everyone I've ever met, including my former boss and his gorgeous wife and the guy I used to be completely in love with in high school. And all of them saw me in all of my sweaty, disgusting glory, and actually looked at me in admiration and respect rather than horror. That was nice to notice.

And so I went back yesterday and did the same routine, though I used a different, seemingly more intense elliptical machine. And today, I was in PAIN.

It was the good kind of pain, the pain that says I pushed and had a good workout. I gave myself the day off from exercise, not only because I was hurting but also because I had a 2pm physical I needed to fast for, and a workout like that on an empty stomach is probably not the best idea. I have plans to go back to the gym tomorrow morning before I leave for my day in Columbia.

This weekend at the gym was joyous in more ways that one. First of all, I got my ass back to a real gym and didn't give a shit what anyone thought. Second of all, I worked my ass off, not only because I wanted to but because I COULD. For the first time in my life, I stayed on the elliptical for more than 2 minutes and sandwiched my time between mile-long walks. It was a good, solid, hour-long cardio workout, and I kicked it's ass. I thought back to the beginning of my year-in-Israel, where hiking up one of J'lem's many hills was enough to do me in. I have come so far in what I am able to do and how I am able to do it that my progress astounds and amazes me.

Gd continues to teach me these amazing lessons, and I open myself up more and more with each passing day. You keep up your good work, Dude, and I'll keep up mine. We're in this one together.

I'm not done swimming just yet, as I love it too much to completely put it away. But I do think variety is the spice of life, and a combo of the gym plus the pool plus my walks to Starbucks should give me the ability to exercise 5-6 days a week without boredom or monotony.

This exercise thing kinda becomes addicting after awhile. Am I becoming one of those exercise addicts I've always feared? Maybe so...

The Calm After the Storm

First of all, thanks so much to everyone who commented on my last post. It means a lot to know I have you all on my side, sending love and good wishes and tons of support. It really means a lot, and I thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

Wednesday night I decided to call it quits. To celebrate, I had an all-out food fest: waaaaay too much greasy chinese food, 1/4 of a HUGE blueberry muffin, popsicles, and 2 pieces of cheese. It was gluttonous and disgusting and, at the time, exactly what I felt I needed. I ate it all upstairs in my bedroom (thank Gd candles can help to get rid of the gross chinese food smell) while watching episode after episode of Sex and the City.

It was a one-night return to my old life.

And then, without meditating or taking my supplements, I went to sleep. Or, I should say, I ATTEMPTED to go to sleep--much, much earlier than I needed to.

After an hour of tossing and turning I finally got up, went downstairs and chugged what felt like a gallon of water. I then went back upstairs and fell asleep, only to be woken up many times throughout the night sweating, with my heart racing and my head pounding. I was paranoid I was having a heart attack or something, but my chest wasn't hurting or tight, so I knew it was probably a mini panic attack and response to all of the grease and sugar in my system.

And in the morning, I felt like shit.

It was like a terrible hangover without the pleasant memory of the fun time that caused it. I hit 'snooze' literally 5 or 6 times, had an awful headache, and terrible energy. I somehow managed to drag myself out of bed to go to work, and let me tell you, singing with dozens of 3-year-olds when feeling this way is not quite fun. I also forced myself into the swimming pool after work, and while it sucked the entire time, I did manage to have a good workout.

I knew the second I woke up on Thursday that this was not the lifestyle I want to continue for myself. Waking up with a stomach full of grease, feeling draggy and lifeless, is not how I want to begin my days. So, back on the program I went and on the program I will stay.

Some of you who read this may remember this post, where I talked about my first gain on the WW program and how maybe Gd made it happen to show me the power of self-love and acceptance. Once again, Gd has taught me a lesson through gaining weight; this time, I learned the power of a healthy lifestyle and how it really does make a difference in my daily life. After spending Thursday eating well, taking my supplements, meditating, exercising, etc., I have woken up this morning feeling pretty damn good. I ate a healthy breakfast, filled with filling protein and fiber and fruits and veggies, and I am getting ready to head out the door to go exercise.

I think I am going to let this program be hard for me sometimes. I seem to gain so much more than just pounds whenever the scale goes up. These small realizations are incredibly powerful and are usually the sign from Gd I need to keep going.

Lose or gain, Gd is with me and teaching me every step of the way.

ברוך אתה ה' פוקח עורים
Blessed are you, Gd, who opens the eyes of the blind.

Wednesday Night Report #5

I wish this was a happy report.

I've been so sick of this program all week, so sick of chicken and broccoli and brown rice and worrying about the stupid scale. I've been so ready to throw it out the window and live my life like a normal person again.

I want to strangle my mom for buying those muffins she knows I can't resist and then not hiding them like I asked her to. I want to kick my brother for leaving the trail mix I can't eat on the counter. I want to scream at my dad for letting me order a cone at Ben and Jerry's last Sunday.

Except none of it is anyone's fault but my own. It was my fault for eating it all, not putting the things away away myself before they became a problem, not having the willpower to resist when I know I can't have it. I take full responsibility, even though it would be so much easier to be mad at everyone else.

All week long I've been wishing that I would have quit the program for the summer. I should have given myself the summer off to continue eating healthy and exercising but not have to face the pressures of the scale week after week. I feel so bound by the program and so limited in what I can eat and where I can go. The joy that food used to bring me is now replaced by this constant aching, saddening anxiety and worry.

I can't go on like this for much longer.

Gd, why is it that some people will never, ever have to worry about things like this? Why are some people so naturally thin while the rest of us have to huff and puff and eat the same boring shit over and over again only to gain more weight? It seems like such a mean trick for Gd to be playing on us, and for the first time in a long time, I'm really mad about it. I am mad at Gd for making me this way and putting me through a life of torture as I try to be what Gd intended human beings (and me?) to be.

The worst part of all of this is that in a few minutes I am going over to my cousin/chiropractor's house, and I know she will want to know how things went tonight. And I will have to tell her I gained 1.4 lbs, and though she will be so sweet and probably say something incredibly wonderful and supportive, inside I will feel just as ashamed as if I were a kid making one of my weekly phone calls to my grandpa.

Maybe it's just a bad week and I am overreacting. But I am pretty much ready to call it quits, at least for the summer. Losing weight isn't worth making myself feel like a loser.

But, like I've said before, I won't give up the program. Not yet.

Gd, if You want me to keep up with this, I need You to prove it to me.

Sounds Like a Personal Problem

Is it ever okay to want to slap the shit out of your best friend?

We were catching up tonight after a couple of weeks of being too busy to talk. I was telling her all about my fabulous chiropractor and the acupuncture she's been giving me, and how I have high hopes that the supplements I am taking along with everything else I am doing will help my body to work to it's fullest potential.

And she proceeded to tell me it was all bullshit. Western medicine is the only way to help people heal and the best way to help people live their fullest life. Her dad doesn't think anything else really works...why should she?

The brilliant child of an E.R. doctor who acts like she knows everything about everything. A radio journalist with the sweetest heart one could think of, covered up by bitter cynicism and an intense need to debate the life out of any issue. A beautiful soul in those moments where she can let the cynicism fade away and admit that she's just like the rest of us: vulnerable, intimidated by what the future holds, not always so sure of herself.

Truth be told, I'm not 100% sure I understand what the acupuncture and supplements and meditation (I didn't have the strength to talk to her about my nightly meditation routine...) are doing for me. But I am keeping an open mind, trying to discover new things about myself and my body and for once concentrating on myself as a soul rather than just a body.

I tried explaining this to her. She condescendingly kept saying "okaaay" and "whatever you think" and the like in my response to my explanation.

Conversations like this make me so angry at her I can't stand it. And I feel like I can't express my anger towards her simply because she won't understand why I am angry. She sees me as someone equally as cynical (which I am NOT) and someone who is willing to believe whatever anyone will tell me. What I really want is for her to accept what I am doing, without judgment or cynicism, and respect that I am trying to open myself up to new possibilities. I want her to accept me the way I am right NOW, in this moment. I want to feel loved and supported by the one person who is supposed to love and support you through thick and thin.

I sometimes think that maybe I shouldn't keep her around. Maybe her attitude is sabotaging my hard work and efforts to evolve and grow. Maybe we aren't in the same place right now and I need to be surrounded by people who, even if we are in different places, can accept me for where I am and what I am doing.

But those thoughts make me so very sad, because I know how much she loves me and how much I love her. I know what a truly wonderful person she is when she allows herself to be. I know that she is NOT the horrible person this post is making her out to be--we wouldn't have years and years of good memories if she was. I know that she would do anything in her power to help me--well, apparently, almost anything.

Gd, I sound like I am justifying an abusive marriage or something. And I promise you, this is
nothing like that.

I wish she understood me half as well as she thinks she does. And I wish I had the balls to just talk to her about it, to ask her gently to understand where I am coming from and what I really need from her. To know that even if she didn't understand or agree with the things I am doing, she would allow me to do them without giving me a millions reasons why science (or her own logic) says they could never work.

I love her. But she has no idea how to best love me. A running theme throughout my life, so it seems. My grandpa, my mom, my best friend...

Does that mean the problem is really with me? Do I not know the how to best love myself and therefore that uncertainty is passed unto others?

Good Gd, more questions.