Blah. Writing this in a full-belly haze. Pardon the rambling, as always.
I have been living in a bubble. Of course, it’s a clear bubble beacuse I am so transparent about everythng I’m thinking. (Some might call it oversharing, I call it transparent). I suppose it could be like the bubble boy, only the bubble blogger, and without an illness that would kill me if I got contaimated by other people.
In my former weight-gaining-like-a-mofo life, I would go out and eat all the time. I never prepared my own food, never portioned things out, and didn’t consider the quantity or quality of what was going in my piehole. I learned quite a bit ago in this journey that I had to remove myself from situations where I wasn’t in control. This meant very litle eating out by myself, picking food up to eat by myself (unless as a lunch for work if I couldn’t run home), and a lot less eating out with people.
I didn’t isolate myself on purpose. I actually realized that throughout my weight gaining period of ultra depression and destruction that I had removed myself due to those things – just a straight depression of not wanting to be around people. Social anxiety was high, and it was easier to just tell myself to stop even trying. Not that I disliked who I was around – I just hated who I was becoming – the hugely fat friend who always wore a smile and had to secretly fret about fitting into whatever space we were going to, whether a restaurant or a bar or club.
As the weight has come off, the social anxiety has eased considerably. Most the time, I’m great if I go to lunch or grab coffee with people. Dinner is an entirely different story.
I haven’t been going out for dinner in quite a while just due to a hectic schedule. There are never enough hours in the day to get everything I want accomplished. When I’m home, I don’t have a problem controlling my eating. Over the past few weeks at the advice of my Registered Dietician, I’ve worked hard to recognize my hunger cues and also realize when I’m satiated. There have been a few breakthroughs in that regard this week where I felt like things were clicking.
Last night, I went out with Lydia to dinner and a movie (The Help, highly recommended if you read the book!). I hadn’t eaten much all day, in essence “saving” my calories for dinner. I had 1 beer (Stella) and… steak and beer cheese nachos. And a side salad – not that it mattered. The good? I ate only half the nachos and took the rest home. Also good? Didn’t get anything from the movie theater to eat or drink. I wrote it down in my food journal as a rough guess of 1000 calories. The bad? I shouldn’t “save up” calories. I should always maintain balanced eating throughout the day so my body has sufficient energy to efficiently do what it needs to.
Tonight, I went out with a large group of awesome Lexington twitterati, and to get to meet Robin. We went to the amazing Columbia’s Steakhouse downtown, where the lovely Manager Flo took great care of us. Like yesterday, I hadn’t eaten much for the day besides 3 peaches from the Farmers Market and 4 ounces of gluten free pasta with garlic and olive oil, also from the Farmers Market. No protein, not much water, and an overabundance of coffee.
As soon as my butt hit the table, I wanted what I always get in large social gatherings – a dirty martini. We were waiting on a few more people to show up and I was hungry, so I ordered fried green tomatoes. Thankfully, my table mates helped me not eat all of them, and they weren’t nearly as greasy as I thought they would be.
Another martini please!
It’s a steakhouse, and I wanted steak. I ordered the famed Nighthawk, which is probably 8 ounces of steak, sitting in a pool of garlic butter. Oh, and a salad. And steak fries. I can’t believe me and my jabbering mouth had time to inhale it all, but it did. It tasted freaking fantastic.
I ate and ate and ate. I wasn’t really present in the moment of enjoying my food – I was so busy enjoying everyone’s company. If I had been by myself in my bubble, I would have quickly realized I didn’t need nearly that amount of food. Instead, my brain kept telling me how hungry I was and how I didn’t eat all day. My stomach was probably trying to tell me something else, considering how it feels right now.
Another martini please!
Flo is known for her pies. I’m not a big pie person. But I LOVE cobbler. And blackberry cobbler I had. With ice cream. And of course I sampled the dozen or so pieces of pie that were circulating the table. A bite of peanut butter, a bite of something with cononut and pecans (Arthur’s pie), and a bite of key lime.
As soon as we were finished and people were figuring out where to go for a nite cap, I quickly realized the pit in my stomach and the sweaty reaction I used to get when I would binge. Totally overdid it.
So now I sit in my pajamas with a forgiving elastic wasitband and wonder when my body and mind will connect. Am I destined to just stay in my bubble forever because I can’t seem to properly monitor myself over these decisions? For so many months, this journey hasn’t felt like a major struggle – there hasn’t been much conflict between my mind and my actions. Things have been – dare I say it – easy. Yet as the scale doesn’t move even on long stretches where I think I’m doing everything right, and I go out and interact with people as I love to do yet feel awful afterwards, I am getting frustrated with myself.
I’m writing all of this down while my stomach is so full I can’t suck it in, and my legs are starting to swell from the sodium. I want to take it all back except the time with people whose company I enjoy.
I swilled 2 liters of water and am off to bed, in hopes that tomorrow, my mind and body will start to connect again.