Today is . . .

There’s been lots of stuff going on that has been stressing me out and I have fallen into old habits.  BUT I have been working on my apartment and I’m making good headway and today I weigh in and take measurements and start food journaling - every morsel - so today is . . . Well, I’m not going with the cliche, but you get the idea.

Here’s the thing.  I can’t do this by myself.  Of all the things I’ve learned this is, shockingly, the biggest.  It’s bigger than knowing how much things suck when I eat sugar, it’s bigger than knowing how great I feel when I’m not eating sugar, it’s bigger than all the other knowledge I’ve accumulated on this journey.

I knew that it was hard years ago when I was trying to be sugar free and my dad would have my favorite (except for Birthday Cake) cake - chocolate with mocha icing, soooo delicious.  Every time I went to my parents house they would have that cake.  I can’t resist that cake.  I may be able to now, but back then I couldn’t.

When they finally got on board with the idea it got easier to be not eating sugar.  They would have dessert, but make sure it was something that I wouldn’t eat or it would be fruit or something else.

Having support makes it tolerable.  Actually having support makes it possible.

This comes up today because in the last few days I was so frustrated that I looked up sugar rehab.  There’s one in Hawaii.  It’s only $410 a day.  Plus airfare and time off and . . . oh wait, I have no money.  Riiiiiight.  So that won’t be happening.

Yesterday I was dealing with my living room and I reached my maximum ability to deal.  Plus, I ate a bunch of crap and felt lousy.  And I was completely overwhelmed.  Dismayed.  Disgusted.  Bloated.  Barfy.  Freaked out.

So I called my dad.  Thank god for my dad.  He briefly got a hint of judgey in his voice and I got quiet.  He asked what was going on and I told him that I was waiting for him to get judgey and get it out of his system.  He said he wasn’t judging, he just didn’t know how bad it was and that he was surprised because I usually tell him stuff.

We’re, me and dad, going to Maine in a week or so.  He said, when we go to Maine you aren’t having any sugar.

To some people that might sound dad bossy and unacceptable.  To me it was like mana from heaven.  If dad says that he won’t have stuff around that I want to eat, I won’t have to worry about giving him permission to eat stuff I want to eat in front of me because, it’s okay, I can TOTALLY handle it and not be tempted.  Because you and I both know that is complete horse pucky.

Another reminder about help came this morning when my friend Deb called me.  I love this woman, we’ve been friends for 21 years.  She has loved me through all the ugly painful things when I have been completely insane.  It was actually her husband that I met first and I am fortunate that he is as close a friend as she is.

This past weekend she was doing a triathlon and had an accident.  Thankfully she is banged up but essentially fine.  She called to check in this morning and let me know that she’s okay.

At the end I let her know that I’ve been eating badly.  That I haven’t been moving my body.  I suppose it should be noted here that I met Bruce during a 7 day 500 mile bike ride around New England and our friendship has always involved different physical activities.  My weight is going up.  Overall I’m just bummed out.

Which was when she asked if I could get out each day first thing.  Which is indeed something I could do, it’s how I started running.  I know it will make me feel better, I just haven’t been able to do it.

I told her that dad was going to be my sugar police and asked her to be my activity police.  She asked when I get up because she knows that doing this kind of thing right off the bat and she agreed to call me every day to make sure I at least go for a walk first thing in the morning.  “I’ll put it in my phone so I don’t forget.”

This woman has so much going on, she owns a business, she has three grandkids that she takes care of often, she is involved in the community, she trains A LOT with her ton of friends.  And she is setting her phone so that she can call me every day to make sure I move.

So I’m getting help.  From people who love me.

If you are struggling ask for help.  People love you, they will say yes.  And you’ll both be better for it.

Introspection

I am feeling lost and disconnected.

Interesting after an overnight with my family.  Had a lovely dinner with my mom, dad, sister and nephew.  Spent the night and took Rafferty (mom & dad’s standard poodle) for a run in the morning, beautiful and fun - he loves the world.  Ran a couple of errands for my dad then picked up a bagel with roast beef, cucumbers and onions at Brueggers before I picked up my nephew at school - lucky kid, it was a half hour before school got out.  Then we went to the dentist, I was having a crown put in.  That didn’t go so well, it wasn’t right and my dentist is having it redone.  Which meant he had to do another mold and so I had to have yet another shot into my palate, exceptionally unpleasant.  I was able to forget about it quickly though because after the dentist I took my nephew to the bike shop and we bought his first shifting bike.  It is pretty big, but he was riding it really well and we got in a bunch of miles before we met his mom for dinner.  It was so much fun, there’s nothing like riding with a kid!

So here I am at home, feeling lost and disconnected.

Which makes me want to go get sugar.  So that I can eat sugar.  Because when I eat sugar I am unconscious so I don’t feel lost and disconnected - because I don’t feel anything.

Eat sugar.

Feel nothing.

Do nothing.

Yeah, that seems like a really good plan.  Don’t you think?  Because I’m sure there isn’t a more positive and productive way of moving through this moment.  Best to just sit in the clutter in my house and plan the sugar I will eat to shut it all down.

Yes.  I’m sure you’ll agree that sounds like the best plan.

I got to thinking about my nephew the other day.  I started wondering what I was like when I was his age.  He’s in fourth grade . . . so I was in Mill Valley, California in fourth grade.  Oh.  Hell.

Why the oh hell?  I was the new kid that year.  Some of the kids told me they had this trick, I can’t remember the rest of the story, but it was this neat trick.  It involved a quarter and a pencil.  For some reason I had to move the pencil around the quarter a number of times and in between those times I had to roll the quarter from my forehead to my chin, from cheek to cheek and from my temples to the opposite side of my face.  The end result?

Pencil lines crisscrossing my face.

I felt so very welcome.  Kendall was probably a very nice little girl, but in my head she will always be an evil little [expletive deleted].

As I remember I had one friend that year, clearly we weren’t the popular kids.

I really hope my nephew is nice to other kids.  I think he is, mostly.  And hopefully other kids are nice to him.

Fourth grade wasn’t the only year I was the new kid, I was the new kid in third grade and fifth grade and again in tenth grade.  Being the new kid, in my experience, is extremely unpleasant.  I’ll do my best to help my nephew understand why being mean to those kids is just not the right thing.

Somehow I doubt that my nine year old punkin would understand if I told him that all I ever wanted was to fit in, to have friends, to not be the one with pencil marks on her face, to be liked.  Not only is my nephew a good kid who is well liked, but he loves his TT and I’m guessing it would surprise him that I was that dorky kid without friends.

As I was thinking about where I was when I was Ns age and I thought about rolling that quarter on my face and I thought about how awful I felt when I realized it was just a joke of which I was the butt . . . and I started to cry.  I just wanted to hug that little girl.  She spent so long just trying to have friends and to feel like she fit in.

When I binge it is to fill a hole, metaphorically (and quite obviously) speaking.  I’ve long wondered what hole.  There was some obvious stuff, but it wasn’t until I was thinking about my fourth grade nephew and I saw that sad little girl with the pencil marks on her face that I finally saw that hole for what it was - I just want to be liked.

The problem is that particular hole isn’t really there anymore - I have found my place in the world, I have great friends and, frankly, I’m kind of awesome - unfortunately the sugar addiction doesn’t go away just because the hole does.

Still, having better insight into the beginning helps me progress toward the end.

And hopefully my nephew is the nice kid I believe him to be, that he won’t be some other kid’s Kendall in the future.

Supernatural

Do you watch Supernatural?  Highly entertaining.  Though if you are squeamish it might be challenging.

I have recently been watching the episodes that I have missed since I gave up my cable subscription.  I don’t think I’m giving anything away when I say that the Leviathans have been released from Purgatory, bad enough in itself as they are impossible to kill and their favorite meal is human.

But it gets worse.  They have created a food additive that makes human beings fat, lazy and stoned - and tasty.  And it’s addictive too.  It’s manufactured by SucroCorp.  It is corn syrup.

Is it just me?  Or do you see it too?

This is happening.  Today.

Some may think the monster story line is over the top, but with everything I’ve read about the sugar industry and the food industry, I think it’s right on point.

SucroCorp, aka all those companies making all that processed food is designing food to make us fat, dumb and “happy”.  I won’t say it’s impossible to say no to this stuff, it is possible, but it is really, really hard.

Which may be the only place the story line doesn’t line up.

Oh, except for the part where we get eaten.  The sugar companies and food manufacturers aren’t trying to make us tasty, they just want our money.

It is seriously messed up, and I’m pretty pissed about it.

We are being made into a nation of fat, stupid, very unhealthy people - all so that the food companies can make money.

Say no to fat, dumb and “happy”.

Say yes to whole foods.

Tara, that's really not much food . . .

The other day a bunch of us were having a meal at work.  I teased my friend Matthew because he had a tray full of food.  I always tease Matthew because he is young and ALWAYS hungry or eating.

It became a discussion When someone pointed out that my meal wasn’t that much food.  I said, it’s not that small.  Matthew said, I’ve had that it’s not much food.

Oh, this was my chicken salad - diced rotisserie chicken, diced celery, diced red onion, toasted almond slices and homemade vinaigrette.  The vinaigrette is amazing: olive oil, 18 year aged balsamic vinegar, pomegranate white wine vinegar, blueberry balsamic vinegar, garlic, salt, pepper.  Super delicious.

It made me realize that my idea of a lot of food doesn’t necessarily match up with other peoples idea of a lot of food.

Now here it must be stated that the food where I work is amazing.  Whole foods cooked served buffet style, lots of options, really good.  And, for those days that the main meal doesn’t draw your attention there is an amazing salad bar, a sandwich bar and the buddha bar.

I frequently have the salad because I love it.  A plate full of mixed salad greens, shredded carrots, organic raw cheddar cheese, sunflower seeds, a few raisins, brown rice, olive oil and balsamic vinegar.  Sometimes the sandwich bar has turkey bacon and avocado which I add to the salad, those are the best ones.  But the regular salad is really delicious.

To me it feels like a lot of food.

But when I see my colleagues tray they will have a plate, plus a bowl or two.  Occasionally some is for later, but not always.

Apparently I have no idea how much a lot of food is.

I know how much a lot of calories is.

I know how much a lot of junk food is.

But real actual food?  Not so much.

My dealings with sugar, and junk food, over the years have prevented me from knowing food and being comfortable with it.

Fortunately I’m learning.  I’m eating real actual food.  I’m eating enough real actual food to to deal with my hunger- oh, hunger, that’s a whole other blog entry, I’ll get to that soon.

I’m learning how much enough is.  I’m learning that what the quantity looks like is not so relevant if it will keep me going until I’m hungry again.  I’m learning that when I eat real food - read avoid sugar and junk food - I feel good and I don’t have to eat all day.

I’m learning.  That is what is important.

A woman of a certain age

It happens to everyone.  Everyone will reach that moment when they need to have a colonoscopy.  It may be that not everyone gets one, but we all reach the age when it becomes a recommendation.

I got there last month.  Given my family history I talked to my doctor about scheduling mine right away.

One grandfather lost his life to colon cancer before my parents were married.  I wish that wasn’t the case because I would have liked to know him.  My other grandfather had a colostomy done in 1965 and then hung around with us until 1997.  He was a terrific grampa, kind of ornery at times, but really active and I loved him a lot.

Don’t worry, I haven’t even had the test yet, that’s not what this is about.

What this is about is - today is prep day.  And that means no food.

If you read the last post you know that I’ve had a dip into sugar, had some yesterday.  I had a good dinner, some grapes, some popcorn and brownies with buttercream icing.

I went to bed uncertain what I would have for the “light breakfast” I was allowed to have.  I figured some pineapple and maybe an egg.

But I slept late, sugar does that to me.

And I wasn’t sure how late I could eat.  And I was freaked out about what a “light breakfast” might look like at that point.

So I just skipped it and started drinking water.

And this is the crux of the problem.  And, no, the problem is not that I’m hungry.  Though I am.  Hungry that is.  But I’m not overwhelmed with the hunger.  I have fasted several times, a couple of times for three days and once for five days.  I can go without food, it’s not my favorite, but I can.

The problem is not that I need to eat.

The problem is the nature of my desire to eat.  I feel like I’m being kept from a friend.  I keep thinking, I want . . . oh, right I can’t have anything.  It’s not at the level of obsessive thought, but it’s on that same road.

It’s making me want to ask my dad to come take me to the doctor tomorrow.  He would have to drive two hours to my place to pick me up, go sit in a doctors office while I have the colonoscopy, drive home with me all looped out on the drugs so we wouldn’t even have a real conversation, then drive home two hours.  All because I’m feeling uncomfortable and lonely because I can’t eat today.

I’m lonely because I can’t eat today.

I’ll leave you with that thought because I just don’t have anything more to say.  I’m lonely because I can’t eat today.

The Dark Place

On Tuesday I went into The Dark Place.

As you might guess from the name and the capital letters, The Dark Place isn’t nice.  I don’t like it.  It’s a place where the beauty of the world is obscured and sugar makes sense.  It’s a place where happy isn’t . . . well, it just isn’t.

I went to the grocery store yesterday and had myself a good old fashioned binge.  Yes, sugar was part of it.  A pretty big part.  It was gross actually.  Made me feel like crap.

I will note that I still made dinner, a nice chicken salad, so I didn’t fall fully into the abyss.  When I have been in the abyss I really only eat the crap and don’t eat the real food - I’m too doped up to eat the real food.  And it takes too much effort to make real food.  But last night I did make real food.

And this morning I made real food.  A green smoothie with italian kale, spinach, frozen wild blueberries, strawberries, half a banana, chia seeds and hemp protein.  I put too much of the protein in and it overpowered the smoothie, but I drank it.

And this afternoon I made real food.  An omelette with avocado, ham, green pepper and red onion.

And I this afternoon I made real food.  This was to take to work to have for dinner.  A nice chicken salad with rotisserie chicken, red onion, celery, toasted slivered almonds and a homemade vinaigrette.

I talked to my dad this morning.  I told him I was in The Dark Place.  The place where sugar makes sense.  He said, it doesn’t make sense, don’t have any.  I said, I already had some.  He said, don’t have any.  I said, I won’t have anymore.

I don’t know if I’ll keep that promise.  It’s my intention to keep it.  I know that the sugar doesn’t help me get out of The Dark Place.  I know that sugar doesn’t make it better.  I know . . . I know lots of stuff.  Unfortunately knowing all that doesn’t help me say no at times.

But you already know that.

He also told me that I should be doing some positive self talk.  Telling myself the good things I know about me, addressing myself as Tara so it is from an objective perspective.  I will be doing that.  I hope that it helps me move out of The Dark Place.  I hope that it helps me say no to the sugar.

Because I don’t like The Dark Place and I don’t like sugar.