Yesterday, I alluded to the fact that I’d gained weight recently. I truly and fully love all those who reached out to me to give me support — some with telling me I wasn’t spiraling out of control and some by telling me it was water weight. Bless each and everyone one of your hearts, and not in a nasty southern meaning of that term.
The weight gain is something I’ve been dealing with for the past month, but haven’t really talked about much. The only places I’ve mentioned it have been on blogs I visit in comments. By not addressing it, though, I’ve just been acting like the problem will resolve itself. It may not even be that — I am partially acting like there’s no problem at all. There is, however, a problem.
When I last was really openly talking about my weight and journey, I was at 164ish pounds. I wasn’t really sure an end number for my weight and where I was going to stop. At first, I thought that this uncertainty was the problem. I am a goal driven gal and if I don’t have one clearly outlined, I have problems staying motivated. I thought that doing the “Don’t Gain a Pound” challenge at my local Brickhouse would sub in as a goal and I’d be fine. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Sure, I didn’t want to gain weight, but my brain is too focused on “must lose weight” for it to be effective. Truthfully, though, the not having a goal isn’t really the root of the problem.
What is it, then? I think, deep down, it’s fear.
Fear, you say, fear of what? Fear of never being satisfied. This sounds a bit crazy, but I am worried about if I’ll ever be satisfied with the way I look or if I’ll always pick myself apart. I mean, exactly what number would I have to get to on the scale to not look at my naked self and feel nothing but self loathing radiating back to me? What if I can never get to that point? What if I always hate my body and can never reach a point where I go “yeah, I’m okay with that”?
That thought alone terrifies me. What if I am never okay with me?
What has been my solution to this fear? I’ve been eating like a maniac. Basically, I’ve been sabotaging myself and all of my efforts to get where I am now.
It’s obviously the wrong thing to do but my brain has come up with the rational that I’ll never have to deal with really, truly loving myself if I never get closer to my goal. If I am always sabotaging myself, then I will never have to learn that it’s okay to be me. I’ll just keep failing and falling off the wagon.
The thing is, I’m tired of starting over.
So, what is my solution to this problem? How am I going to fix this? Short term, I’m back to eating correctly and working on not sabotaging all my hard work. Long term…
I don’t know yet.
I wish I had the fairy tale answer to this problem. I wish I could say I’m going to do a, b, and c and the problem will be fixed. The thing is, though, I can’t say anything. I don’t know how I’m going to fix it. The only step I have so far is to face and address the problem I’m encountering. From there, I don’t know.
I will, however, figure it out.