I know at some point I have written about this before. Entitlement. Deprivation. Feelings of Inferiority. But not in that particular order. I’ve been analyzing my attitude toward food these past couple of days and it is disturbing. I want things I can’t have including others food. I covet unfinished food on plates that are not mine. When I see someone eating something that looks even remotely appetizing I find myself wondering if they are going to finish it and if not, I want it. Then I panic because, what if they throw it away? And yes, I will freely admit, that I have fished food out of the trash. I am not proud of that... at all.
Tonight we had take out. I chose wisely. My dinner was a total of 530 calories after a 900 calorie day and a 500 calorie burn. My girls had chicken and French fries. Neither girl ever finishes their chicken. Tonight they did. They must have been hungry… or they saw mom’s wandering eyes. I found myself watching them eat, even before I started eating, wondering what their chicken tasted like and their French fries and wondering if they would finish it. I found myself trying to calculate calories if I just ate one piece or just ½ a piece of only 5 fries. Then they ate it all and the covetous desperation was gone.
I have to do this often. When there ARE leftovers I have to immediately scrape clean everyone’s plates for fear that if I leave them sitting on the sink for any amount of time I will come back to scavenge. I honestly don’t understand my own behavior behind this. Why do I feel entitled to other peoples’ food? Why do I feel deprived if I can’t have it? And worst of all, while I’m being the covetous glutton the feeling of worthlessness and pure inferiority is overwhelming.
I find myself thinking thought like, why can’t I just enjoy my own food? How can they (whoever they might be other than my children – generally adults) just sit there and enjoy their food without a second glance at anyone else’s food?
These past two days I have worked immensely hard to fix whatever this is that is wrong with me. When my children finished their food they got a chocolate chip cookie and neither of them finished theirs. They got up to play leaving their remnant cookies on the kitchen table and all I could do was stand there and stare at them. Normally, I would have picked them up, stuffed them in my mouth and been on my merry way, satisfied by the taste for only several seconds but feeling that much more full. That much more worthless and inferior and completely ashamed that I couldn’t control myself. Tonight I didn’t eat the remnants, but God how I wanted to. I scooped them off the tables with a wet paper towel and threw them in the trash. I felt like an alcoholic, pouring the liquid down the sink. I had to stand at the sink for a moment and compose myself. I did think of pulling them out of the trash but tried to dissuade myself by imagining them soggy inside the wet paper towel. It worked and the urge, the desire, the covetous glutton disappeared.
I will have to live with this glutton inside of me for the rest of my life. I don’t think I will ever be able to look at a cookie or a piece of cake or Doritos or popcorn or really any snackie foods without mentally calculating their calories count, how much I can I eat and if others are eating also, will they finish it and can I have the rest if they don’t. I hope that if nothing else the need to finish others food will diminish. I hope that someday I will be content with the food on my own plate; that perhaps I won’t even notice what others are eating let alone that it looks good or that I want to finish it for them.
Onto another covetous nature of mine. While at the gym I find myself inspired and motivated but mostly covetous of other women’s bodies. I see the 20-something girl running on the treadmill with her ponytail swinging side to side and her perfect heart shaped butt and long muscular legs (sorry for the quasi-les description but hey, I’m a writer) and I think, ‘will I ever look like that?’ ‘Will I have have nice legs or a nice butt?’ ‘Will someone ever look at me like I am looking at her?’ Then there is the short haired blond lady in her early 30’s on the spin bike in her tight as skin athletic gear, pedaling so fast and hard that the rivulets of sweat dripping off of her are actually making miniature puddles on the floor. I notice how when she stands up to pedal even harder there is a space between her thighs and when she sits up straight there are no creases where her love handles would be if she were 20lbs heavier. And I wonder if I will ever have a body that doesn’t rub or crease in places that it shouldn’t. This is generally when my pity party turns to indignation and I tell myself that I have every right to look like that. I have every right to have a tight ass, and muscular non cellulite riddled legs and a smooth upper torso that won’t catch the material of my shirts in the rolls. I have every damn right and the only person stopping me… is me.
This is when I break down and the low self esteem, constantly teased, self pitying teen of my past surfaces and all I want to do is bury my head in the proverbial dirt and cry and cry. But that won’t get me where I want to be. So these last two days I have taken a deep breath as these hormonal cycles of complete bi-polar weight issue disorder has made its rounds and forge forward.
I have discovered I am an elliptical girl. I cannot walk on the treadmill. I can do 90 minutes on the elliptical, no problem, minimal muscular soreness and feeling great afterward. I did 60 minutes on the treadmill yesterday and my sciatic nerve felt like it was going to rip out of my right butt cheek and bitch slap me for my stupidity. So the elliptical it will be from now on, or until my butt fits more properly onto the bikes and then I will be doing some spinning of my own.
I know I will never have naturally flat abs, or the perfect bubble butt and I know I will never be without saggy, hangy skin without drastic cosmetic surgery post weight loss but I need to lose this weight. I need to be able to hold my head high and say I DID THIS. I LOST THE WEIGHT. I AM WORTH A LOT. I AM NOT INFERIOR. I AM NOT DEPRIVED AND I DON’T NEED TO FEEL ENTITLED BECAUSE I HAVE EVERYTHING IN LIFE THAT I NEED.
Now, the challenge is to put that motto to work for the next several hundred days.