Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Thoughts About Weight-Loss 1: Emotional Cheating

I've been on the "lose weight" wagon for a few months now and have been writing about it every now and then. I've decided to share some of it here, which scares the shit outta me. Admitting these things is hard and extremely personal, as I don't hold anything back...but I think that writing them down and letting people read them is going to be good for me. Freeing. Motivating, even. Who knows.

My inner monologue on any given work day goes like this:

What the hell? What the hell?! You have SALARIES! You have FAMILIES! How have you made it this far in life and you still have NO IDEA how to put your dirty plate in the dishwasher/turn off a light when you leave a room/replace toner in the machine/call your voicemail? How does this happen?! Use your brain!

When people pile stupid stuff on me, it frustrates me to a point where I just want to run out of the office screaming. Instead, I push it down and smile. That's what a good receptionist does.
So here I sit, ten minutes before lunch, angry and frustrated because, yet again, someone didn't plan their time properly and they need something done TODAY and gave it to me to do. Ten minutes before lunch and I'm pissed off and frustrated and...I want a burger. I want a burger and fries and a coke and a chocolate bar and three glasses of wine and chicken wings.

Emotional eater? Heckyes.

When I first realized -really realized- I was an emotional eater, I had a bit of a breakdown before my breakthrough. I remember it clearly: I had a bad day at work so I stopped at the store on the way home. I bought myself a frozen pizza, some chocolate cookies, a bag of chips and a small bottle of gingerale. When I got home I put the pizza in the oven and sat on the couch stuffing my face with Doritos and cookies. When the pizza was ready, I ate half of it, then went back to more Doritos and cookies. I guzzled gingerale the whole time.

When my binge was done, I sat on the couch and cried. I was so full and felt so sick. Was my anger gone? Sure! But it was replaced by an absolute hatred of myself and my way of life. I didn't let myself go to the bathroom for six hours that night, because I knew if I went I would have put my finger down my throat and made myself throw up. It was the first time I had ever had a bullemic thought like that, and the first time I realized "Holy crap! I really AM an emotional eater!"

So I'm sitting here, four minutes before lunch, and I'm seething and trying to let the anger out creatively (not helping, btw) and my first thought is "screw the veggies I brought for lunch, I'm getting a burger!" Then I stop and think to myself "Wait, Jenny. A burger will make you feel gross and really won't help with your weight loss. Go to the gym instead."

...then I argue with myself. A burger WON'T make me sick and I'm going to the gym after work anyways, so whats the big deal? I can't go to the gym twice in one day, right? Maybe I could go buy new boots instead. Replace one bad, money-spending habit with another.

I hate that I'm an emotional eater and I hate that I crave junk food. I love, though, that I can now realize it and can stop and think about making a positive action instead of stuffing my face. It's a big step in the right direction, I think.

So now I'm here, one minute before lunch, and am salivating and hungry for grease and sugar. Instead I'll pop a few almonds, hit the weight room and try to get my anger out with a few 10-pounders.

A bitchy girl with 10-pounders is scarier than any big muscle man benching 150. Watch out.

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