If you want to feel simultaneously like crying and cheering, I suggest attending your local Weight Watchers meeting. I haven't written about my history with WW (as Weight Watchers will henceforth be known as) with any regularity in years. You see, I started my first WW program in the Spring of 2005 as a fluke. I went to support a close girlfriend who was embarking on a weight loss journey. It turns out I quickly fell in love with the group leader (she was hilarious and supportive) and starting shedding some lard. I decided to stick with it over the summer and by the Fall of my senior year I was back at school and 22 pounds lighter. I felt like a million dollars. I've stopped and started WW probably a dozen times since then. I'll track my points and stay on plan for two weeks, lose a few pounds, and then something will come up. A birthday dinner, a happy hour, a boozy brunch, a weekend away, a wedding, a bridal shower, a vacation, etc. Something is always going to come up. Yet, for an entire summer while enjoying myself living in the NYU dorms and acting like a moron, I managed to stay on plan. So why can't I seem to do it now?
Last night's meeting was an eye-opening experience. A very nice lady who lost 90 pounds in the last year (yes, you read that correctly, she lost the equivalent of my sister in the last year) was discussing her struggles in accepting her fate as a food addict. She spoke about crying in restaurant bathrooms out of frustration. Why her? Why didn't her boyfriend or any of her friends have to worry about what they ate? Another inspirational woman in the room spoke up. She replied: everyone has their shit. Some people suffer from depression, some suffer from cancer, some suffer from poor eye sight, some are starving. Everyone has their shit. Acceptance is key. I almost cried. I have written about this very same frustration on the blog several times before. I just need to accept it. I need to work on accepting it every single day. The whole "one day at a time thing" is also helpful in situations like these. Even thinking about tracking points for a week makes me sweat. I can literally only think about today and perhaps tomorrow. This must be what heroin addicts feel like the first week of rehab. Holy shit how am I going to do this??? I laid in bed last night thinking exactly that for over an hour.
The truth of the matter is, I haven't found a way to control my eating any other way. Perhaps one day I will be able to be left to my own devices and eat like a normal person, but alas this day hasn't come yet. So I don't like to think of this blog as a "weight loss" blog any longer, but apparently it's going to be for a while. I'll still post all my random musings, but if I don't post about my WW experiences, apparently I seem to give up on them quite quickly.
I'm eating my slice of humble pie and admitting that I need this blog to feel accountable. Get ready for the ride of your lives.