I can only go up from here.

Today was a turning point.

My roommate left for the day to do some work stuff, and I fell asleep. My nap was terrible. I don't typically nap because they just leave me groggy and blah for the rest of the day.

This particular nap was, in a word, sucky. I have been sick for about two weeks, and have sort of slipped into a depressive state of mind. My eating has been crappy, no workouts for the past four days, and just feeling terrible. So this nap was a bad idea, I have just been SO TIRED lately.

I had weird dreams. Bad dreams. Not the scary kind in terms of bizarre things you can't control, but scary in the terms of feelings and emotions that put you right back into the past. The dark parts of your past.

So I woke up hungry and thought two words: Dunkin Donuts. My roommate was gone, I was alone and lonely. So what do I think about in those emotional states? Donuts. Maybe you think about something else. Same emotion, different vice.

Donuts.

I'll be honest, I had keys in hand, about to get in my car and head over there. I wish I could say I immediately knew it was a bad idea and I stopped myself, but it took a while. It took a few hours of wrestling with my past to stop me from hitting that drive-thru. That's why I think today was a turning point. I ate lunch here, I got myself together and I got in the car.

But I didn't hit the donut shop. I hit the Y. And then Kroger and got detox foods that I needed. I need to turn this around. Today I had a choice to live in the dark, certain past, or try again in my bright, uncertain future. I hate that this food thing still has such a strong hold on me and I've been in this process for a year. But I can't fool myself either, thinking that this isn't a problem for me anymore and I can get slack about it.

I can only go up from here.

-Liz

Big people, lonely world.

Yesterday was rough for me. Just a ROUGH day. I am trying to figure out what really happened and what put me in my funk, but honestly I think it was just that regular realization I get that this weight struggle will NEVER be over.

Part of me feels bad that my closest friends, even my best friend, can't understand what I am going through. The reality is that, if you don't struggle with being as overweight as I have been in my life, you just don't get it. I'm sorry to say that my thin friends (who still struggle with weight like almost ALL of us) just simply can't understand what I am going through.

It is a lonely world if you are big.

I am not where I used to be, but I am not yet where I want to be. This place is perhaps the loneliest place of all. I realize what I want, and I am working on getting it, but I am lost in the journey. It's a slower process than I had hoped. My workouts are great, but my battle with my eating is greater.

So my big question right now is, how do I keep after this thing without letting it consume my life?

I wish I knew. I wish this blog ended with a big high five and a revelation. But it doesn't. Either way I go, if I get too extreme, it is an obsession. I can't explain how much each and every day of my life right now is spent thinking about my weight and where I have been and where I want to go. I have trouble enjoying where I am right now because I still don't feel successful. What's up with that? And if I let it go and don't concentrate on my weight loss, I will gain back what I worked so hard to lose. What's the answer?

Why am I harder on myself than I am on other people? Why am I so unforgiving of myself when I am so quick to forgive others?

I ordered a women's jacket from Columbia last night, size XL. I tried it on and it didn't fit. Meanwhile, my best friend tried on her size small jacket and it fit perfectly. Defeating, defeating, defeating. And not her fault at all. Just another reminder of my size.

It's probably not fair for me to shut people out that don't know what the weight loss struggle feels like. But I don't know any other way. They might be able to see the pain and try to love me through it, but it just doesn't help me. The annoying thing is, I don't know what WILL help me since I feel like I am in this alone.

When I figure that out, I'll let you know.

-Liz

I guess it's working?

Got this email from a new friend last night. I guess the blog is helping to connect us. That's the goal, right?

SO…at the risk of sounding like someone with no life on a Friday night…I just, through tears and laughter, read your entire blog – from the start of your weight loss journey to now. Wow. I identified with so many things you shared – your vulnerability and authenticity are refreshing. I’m not sure I could be so bold. I feel like I have so much to process. Mostly to process with the Lord, I suppose… I am feeling really empowered and really motivated. I know that I have been doing this half-heartedly and it is time that I really dive into this with everything I have – and I am encouraged by your story and have HOPE that I can do this too!! Thank you for being real…through the ups and the downs!! You are a blessing.

AND on a much less emotional and significant note…Madonna’s Immaculate Collection CD is one of my ALL TIME FAVS and I’m also a big fan of Michael Jackson – so I laughed out loud at your reference to his “You are Not Alone” – might need to listen to both of those in the next few days!

See you at the Y next week!!

That's awesome. 

-Liz

Why discipline is a dirty word

Yesterday morning, I was on the treadmill flipping through channels trying to occupy my brain while I ran. I flipped across a normally annoying Christian evangelism channel, but this time, I caught a glimpse of Beth Moore who I think is pretty awesome. Mostly because she's honest about her past and the fact that it's not something to be proud of.

The verse she was speaking on was Hebrews 12:11.

"No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it."

Is it crazy that this lady was speaking to me about the importance of discipline while I was on the treadmill yet again, battling this weight thing that has limited me almost all of my life?

Yeah. But God is crazy like that.

So here's my thought on this: it sucks to get up early to go running. It really does. My bed is warm, it's dark and I am tired. It is not pleasant at the time, it is painful.

You know what else is painful? Not eating Christmas Tree Cakes like everyone else is. Not stopping at Bojangles on the way home. Not having ice cream at the end of every day. Running miles at a time, going up and down flights of stairs, getting on the bike, lifting weights, doing burpees, watching the scale go up and down and up and down. 

The battle is, in a word, painful.

It was especially painful a year ago, when I started all this and had no idea where it would take me.

Later on, however, it produced a harvest of righteousness and peace for me. I had been trained by it.

Does God care about my weight? More than I am willing to admit. I'll put it this way for you: God cares about everything that affects you and your happiness and your heart and your soul. Nothing is stupid to Him if it's important to you. Because YOU are important to HIM. And that means, everything that is wrapped up in the confusing world of what makes you...you.

Why is discipline a dirty word? Why do we avoid it when God promises that it will produce a harvest of righteousness and peace for us? I think for me, for my whole life, my response to God, when it came to my weight was "God, you can have my whole life, but this thing, THIS, I need to keep for myself. You can't have it."

My battle against discipline started years and years ago when I wanted to hold on to this one thing that has kept me sick for so long. Now I am slowly but surely reversing a life without discipline and, honestly, a life of keeping God and everyone else around me at a distance.

Don't keep stuff to yourself. I know from experience. Let people in to whatever is keeping you locked away. Peace is the thing that we are all looking for. We just can't grab it sometimes because we refuse to let go of that other thing.

Let it go.

-Liz

Fear of Flying

Had a little reflection time this morning. I got back from my Thanksgiving trip to PA a few days ago. My head is spinning, still, about how different things have become.

For years, I have braved the highways and driven to PA. It's a long drive, but with any kind of holiday traffic, it's brutal. But I have never wanted to fly as an option because flying has always been...embarrassing. Is that the right word to use?

I have traveled a lot for my old job, and sometimes you just have to fly to get to certain places. But it's never been something I have wanted to do. In fact, if I am being honest, the discomfort and embarrassment of flying has kept me from adventure in a lot of ways.

This morning, I was remembering some hard memories about flying. One time, at the Chicago airport, one of the Southwest employees who was checking me in sort of looked me up and down and said "hey, just so you know, they might ask you to purchase an additional seat if the armrest doesn't come down all the way." I know that he was trying to be helpful and give me a heads up, but I was just SO embarrassed.

I had become one of those people that no one wants to sit next to on a plane. I remember being in the terminal, and wondering if people were looking at me and hoping they wouldn't have to sit next to me. I remember hoping that the seat belt would fit me.

I flew on a little puddle jumper plane once and those seats are TINY. I stuffed myself into the seat somehow,  but the seat belt just wasn't even close to coming around me. I tried to hide it from the stewardess but she knew. And without a word, she just came over and gave me this seatbelt extension thing, which is really like a double long seatbelt.

Embarrassing. More than embarrassing...humiliating. Like, the kind where you are fighting back hot tears from rolling down your face. Oof.

When I fly now, 85 pounds lighter, I can sit anywhere. I still find myself in these old habits I'm used to. I automatically put the armrest up, and I automatically take the seatbelt all the way out, and I automatically go into the window seat and never make eye contact because I don't want anyone to sit next to me.

But when I fly now, the armrest goes down. The tray table goes down and doesn't rest on my gut. The seatbelt has to be taken in, and people sit next to me. I can cross my legs, I can see the seat beneath me, and I am still so amazed. I still can't believe it. I still cry as soon as I buckle the seatbelt because I think about the girl that used to need a seatbelt extension. She was so embarrassed.

But now, she is so victorious. And you might sit next to her sooner than you think!

-Liz

The insecurity blanket statement.

Happy Thanksgiving! We survived.

I had a whirlwind weekend, but something in particular happened that, afterwards, I immediately thought "I have to write about this, because I never want to forget that it happened."

I got together with an old friend during the holidays and to be completely candid (because, that's all I know how to be) I was VERY nervous about meeting up with her. You see this particular friendship had caused me a lot of joy, but it also caused me a lot of pain. Tell me if you can relate to this story:

You are in a hard place in life. A wonderful friend comes into your life and encourages you, loves you, and supports you in ways that no one else does at the time. But it doesn't last. Womp womp. And so for longer than you are willing to admit, you struggle. You might chase that friend, you might unfriend that person from Facebook, you might pretend you don't care. You might do a number of ridiculous things.

All in the name of insecurity.

For fear of completely embarrassing myself, I may or may not have done some of those things with this friend. But I know now that this friend was never the problem. Sure, I was hurt by her, and sure I was left with questions about what went wrong but what was the real problem?

Insecurity. Duh. And quit acting like you don't know what I mean.

The past year has taught me more than I can say. I am a different person today than I was on November 24th of last year. And I am not even CLOSE to being done. When you get a hold of that thing that holds you back the most, it allows you to move mountains. My mountains were formed from deep insecurity. Now, as the scale is moving, the mountains are moving. And this is nothing short of miraculous. I have a weight issue, but I have a bigger heart issue.

So I hadn't seen this friend in years. And the last time we saw each other was really painful for me. Was  it dumb for me to agree to see her? What if we had nothing to talk about? What if that old insecurity came back and I took an emotional trip right back to the dark place that I used to be in?

All of those big questions aren't as scary as this one: What if I just don't put myself out there?

I had a friend tell me once "I don't trust people. They just hurt you." Well, that's an option I guess. But that also means you are robbing people of the chance to truly know you and be known by people that WANT to know you. Is that any way to live?

Ok, so I met my friend. And before you know it, the conversation was honest, full of forgiveness, and sweeter than I can explain. I lost interest in the past because I simply knew that both of us had grown in huge ways and were discovering that our own insecurities were the reasons we acted tough or distant or apathetic or absent.

What it made me realize is this: the very insecurity that might keep me from a great friendship is the very same insecurity that might keep someone else away from me. It just comes out in different ways for different people. And the more I chased this friend and tried to force a friendship in the past, the more it just didn't happen. And that was by design. My insecurity makes me rush, makes me think things that aren't true, makes me put unrealistic expectations on my friends. My insecurity ultimately leaves me alone.

But the irony of all of this - and this is what I learned from my friend - this same insecurity leaves all of us alone. Separated and afraid to admit what's really happening. Is it possible that someone else battles insecurity just as much as I do?

So, over a meal, we compared notes and we found similarities that are still freaking me out. I had no idea, and I will forever be grateful for how open and honest that conversation was. It was truly one of the only times that I know of that I felt like guards were down, hearts were open, and the past was forgiven.

I have no idea where this particular friendship will go, but I do know that there was a reason that it took us four years to get together. And it was worth the wait.

That was my thanksgiving. How was yours?

-Liz

Defense Mechanisms

Last week I was in the stairwell, running a set of stairs with my trainer. She likes to ask me deep philosophical questions right when I am in the midst of cardio meltdown. Needless to say, I rarely answer but just tell her "DENTIST!" which is our code word for "I clearly can't talk right now, I can barely breathe and you did this to me so cut it out."

But this time, I really had to answer.

I've managed to keep progressing through some setbacks. I hurt my neck and back pretty badly a few weeks ago, and the steroids I was on made me want to eat everything in sight. Add that to not being able to work out at the level I am used to, and it was an emotional setback in a big way. Once you start to eat whatever you want, it's hard to stop. It opens a floodgate and I could see into a dark future of gaining 80+ pounds back right before my eyes. So, it took some soul searching and major self-discipline to turn that around.

So there we were in the stairwell and my trainer said something like "Ok, so you are recovering well and have made it past some serious obstacles that would sideline a lot of other people. Everyone is commenting on how great you look, but I know that will start to slow down as you are staying in this new size. Where are you in your head now that you are at this point in the process?"

Loaded question. LOADED question. Because what my trainer probably doesn't know, is that I think about this all the time. And I mean ALL the time.

So I had a prepared answer.

It's funny you should ask, I told her, in between my gasps for air. I have been thinking about this a lot.

I remember, word for word, what I told her, and here it is:

"Before I started this whole weight loss thing, I was a people pleaser. And losing weight has allowed me to move from being an unsuccessful people pleaser to a God pleaser. I no longer judge my self-worth on other people's opinions of me."

The greatest thing about all this? I meant it.

And that conversation has got me thinking about defense mechanisms. The things that we all do to keep other people away. For some of us, it's weight. See, my weight was a physical barrier for me to keep the world out. For others of us, it's how we dress, or sarcasm, or how we misuse affection, or a number of other ways that we keep people at a distance.

Fear of being hurt makes us do crazy things. Stupid things. But guess who gets hurt the most in the process? When I don't let people in, this also means that I can't get out. There I was, living a pretty isolated life. Alone in my bubble, with food as my reliable companion.

Now I know that food isn't a friend to me at all. What is that thing, for you, that is keeping people out and keeping you locked in? Would you be willing to step out with me into a scary world of freedom?

Don't you think it's time? See, the door can be opened by someone else. But you have to be willing to walk out.

-Liz