Wow, I hope you all have had an amazing Christmas. It was a wonderful Christmas for our family. It was a little too food enjoyable. 🙂 I decided that after 21 months on WW, I needed to take a mental break. I needed to take some time for me. So, with the approval of my doctor and my counselor I began to set up my plan to take my two week hiatus from WW.
So, how did I set up my hiatus. I set it up by creating accountability partners for myself. I reached out to my WW coach and my accountability partner. I also added several friends to this accountability group. Why did I set up so many accountability partners? Because there is always a chance that their will be one accountability partner not willing to be as strong and encouraging of me to get back on track. I wanted to ensure that I had someone that would be that push. That person that would say Tracy, you need to do this. You promised. Luckily, ALL of my accountability partners were very encouraging to get back on track.
I also set up a deadline. I set up a back on track date. Taking a break from WW and not setting up a get back on date allows you to keep pushing that date back. I needed an accountability to myself. What day did I decide to get back on? Saturday, January 2. And guess what, I was on track that day without a doubt. So, what happened on my two week break?
So, after the emotional week that I had this week I really did not want to get on the scale. I thought about not doing it. But, I have religiously weighed every Saturday since March 23, 2019. I decided that no matter what I was getting on that scale. Up or down, I needed to know where my balance was. Did I maintain the tools not to put five pounds on this week?
I don’t always publish my weigh in results on here. But, I felt it was important to do so today.
After my birthday week, I got on the scale today and I was surprisingly down .2 pounds. I am ecstatic about those results. Normally I would be upset I only lost .2. But today was different. I am happy for these results because I had a wonderful birthday. I had the best birthday ever and enjoyed my cupcake.
Losing weight does not have to be about restrictions. While you are losing gift you do not have to forgo indulgences. I love my WW because of that. I get to enjoy my life and enjoy my days.
I for too long have tried to “diet.” Diets do not work. Diets only strict you and the reason people fall off of them is because you can’t live that way your entire life. You have to learn how to enjoy food and live with food for the rest of your life.
Just some food for thought. Hope you all have a blessed week. Looking forward to sharing some amazing news with you soon.
When I was growing up, my birthday’s were some of my happiest memories. I remember my birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese the most, I think. I loved watching the little mice on stage. Every birthday growing up, my parents made it special for me in some way. Oftentimes, we would go out to eat or go do something fun on my birthday if it was on the weekend.
Now that I have grown up my birthday still means a lot to me because of those memories. But, one thing has changed. Somehow I have stopped aging. By the power of my wonderful Aunt Sam. Every year since I turned 19, I get a “Happy 19th Birthday part ?” I told her when I was in college that I wasn’t going to get any older. And thanks to her I haven’t.
Something as simple as remembering one comment I made on one birthday brings me joy every time I get a card from her. It reminds me how much she loves me to just remember that one thing.
This year’s birthday was a little different, but the love I felt from family and friends was one of the best things I could have asked for amidst COVID-19. It has been a blessing to feel this loved. On my birthday this year, I got a phone call I did not expect. And throughout the afternoon I just felt joy from that phone call. I felt encouraged.
Earlier this year I wrote about opening my very own women’s clothing boutique. After several months of no sales and continuing to spend money on advertising, I decided to close my boutique. I realized that running a clothing boutique in the middle of a pandemic was probably not the smartest thing to do. I admittedly did not know we would still be in a pandemic after 8 months.
During the last 8 months due to my immunocompromised status, I have not been in a store, a restaurant, gone to church, or seen friends and family. It has been a long 8 months and I fear that it is not going to end at any point soon. The lack of care for others has been heartbreaking to watch. I look at the number of people who refuse to wear a mask, refuse to socially distance and I know it means that I will be in this “prison” of mine for a long time.
So, I have had to come up with something to do with my time. I have had to figure out what is right for me. I will have an announcement soon about my ultimate path, but in the meantime I have found some things that keep me busy. I have become one of those direct sellers people hate on Facebook. I know how people feel about all the social media sellers. But, I have thought about how I want to do my businesses. I am going to stop being the one that always posts sales on my FB feed. I am going to stop being the one that invites people to every page and every group. This is how I am going to be a different direct seller.
I fail because even after a year and a half of learning skills to deal with my emotions, what do I do? I run to food. I run to things that make me feel good. And darn it, pumpkin chocolate chip cookies do the trick for me. Either that or those milk chocolate covered pretzels. (Oooh, I forgot about that Whatchamacalit in my fridge.)
Why do I sabotage myself? I don’t understand why it is so hard for me to deal with heartbreak and bad news. I still don’t understand why my only coping skill that I know how to use is food.
Let me start this blog post by making one thing clear, I love my mom. I love my mom more than anything. We may not always agree and we may have our spats, but I love my mom. My mom has had to up put with a lot from me. I have not always been the best daughter. I have done my own thing and unfortunately, sometimes it hurt her. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it did. And the amazing thing is, she still loved me. She still cared for me. She still helped me out of more pickles than I care to admit. Through the years she has been the one constant in my life. And I can never be more grateful to her. So, yes, I honored her this year and yes, I sent her a Mother’s Day present – because she deserved it.
But, I still hate Mother’s Day. For me, Mother’s Day is the hardest day of the year. Mother’s Day is the reminder of my heart’s desire that will never be fulfilled. Mother’s Day is a reminder that I can never escape the pain. Mother’s Day is a day that no matter what my husband does I end up in tears.
Losing my child was the hardest thing that has ever happened to me. The hours sitting in the Emergency Room waiting for the word of what I already knew. I knew my child was gone. I knew I would never hold my baby in my arms. The child I had always dreamed of. The child I dreamed would be growing up with my neice and nephew. The child that would sit at the Christmas tree and dream about presents under the tree as my husband read the Christmas story. The child that would sing in the children’s choir at church. The child that someday would accept Jesus as their personal Lord and Savior. All that vanished in the blink of an eye.
The only thing that has ever come close to that amount of pain was the day that I lost my grandmother. I remember my mother calling and asking to speak to my husband. I knew. He didn’t have to get off the phone, I knew. As soon as he rounded the corner from the kitchen, I fell to the ground and cried in the fetal position for hours. He just held me and let me cry. At the viewing, I couldn’t even go into the room. Hubs and my cousins had to comfort me. I don’t even want to venture to guess what will happen if anything ever happens to my mother.
Every year I think I can handle it. But the reality of the situation is I can’t. I can’t handle the thought of never being a mother. I can’t handle the thought of losing my child. I just can’t. At some point in the day, no matter what happens, I break down. I just come to a crumbling halt. Yesterday’s breakdown started when my husband and I were watching a sermon. The still and the quietness left time for hopes, dreams, and nightmares to come flooding back. After the sermon I was extremely quiet. Just walking around doing household chores trying to stay busy. But, when I finally sat down and my husband asked what was wrong, the flood gates opened.
Yesterday was horrible. A day I don’t want to remember.
Yesterday was horrible. A day I don’t want to remember. A day I just want to forget. What I don’t understand is why is Mother’s Day harder than others? The only thing I can come up with is because it is a loss of a dream and it is a day that is celebrated by everyone. You can’t go on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram without people posting pictures of their children and husbands wishing their wives a Happy Mother’s Day. And I get it, they want to honor the moms in their life. I get it. But that is not where the pain stops. In some churches you can’t escape sermons meant for good from being a knife jabbed in your heart over and over. And a sermon about motherhood makes perfect sense on Mother’s Day. But for someone who has struggled with infertility and loss for most of her adult life, stick that knife in further.
Mother’s Day is harder than other days and reminders of my baby. My husband and I get sad and stick together on the day our baby was born into heaven. We do the same thing on the day our baby was to be born into our arms. And we conquer those days together. I think the reason those days are easier is because besides our immediate family and our closest friends, very few reminders are out there. I can log onto Facebook and see other things, not a reminder of my loss. If it falls on a Sunday, the likelihood the pastor is speaking on motherhood is slim. But, Mother’s Day is hard because it is everywhere. I can’t escape it. No matter how hard I try. I do try to stay off Facebook, but those posts are still there on Monday. I will see them no matter how hard I try not to.
You may be asking why I am writing this blog. How is it even related to your weight loss journey? I am because I did yesterday what I have been striving for over a year and a half to avoid. I emotionally ate like you would not believe. I had more points in one day than I have had any one day on my journey. I ate and I did not care. I had to feed my emotions yesterday. And yes, that ice cream from Bruster’s made me feel better yesterday. That hamburger from Macado’s with fries yesterday made me feel better. I am not ashamed to say it.
You notice I said I had more points in one day than I have on this entire journey. The thing I did differently was this. I tracked those points. I tracked every bite I ate. And I am going to live with consequences next Saturday. But, I owned it. I owned what I put in my mouth. I owned those feelings I had yesterday. A year and a half ago, I wouldn’t have. I would have just kept on eating bad. Fell off one day, must be a lost cause. That is what I would have told myself a year and a half ago. But, today, I got up. While I am still down, I am not crying every second. I got back in the saddle and I am taking on the world today. Putting one foot in front of the other.
I will conquer my weight issues. I will conquer the feelings of inadequacy. I will conquer the feelings of embarrassment. But, I don’t think I will ever conquer Mother’s Day. I think it will be a day that I die every single year. And that is ok. It’s the fact that I get up and live the other 364 days of the year.
First, I have to say I have the best doctor in the world. I am so excited to have a doctor that actually listens to me, my concerns, and my body.
I have been thinking about my goal weight. Yesterday I told her I was going to want her to help me pick a goal weight. Where I want to end this journey. As I spoke to my doctor yesterday she said something very profound to me and I can’t stop thinking about it. “Weight is an emotional thing.” She said my body is going to pick its goal weight.
Weight is an emotional thing.
As our bodies change, our bodies know where to stop. Our bodies are only going to go so far. Weight is just a number. Doctors, she said, often put too much on that number. They are just one indicator of health. Not the only thing. She said the most important thing for me to do is to eat right, move my body, and be emotionally well and my body will work out the rest. I told her according to WW if my weight was outside what they considered the right goal weight I would need a letter. She reassured me that would not be a problem for her to write.
So, I am nuts. I am. There is no way to say that other than to just speak it. I’m nuts. Why you ask? I am nuts because I am changing what has worked. I am going to step out of my comfort zone and take a leap of faith into a brand new world.
I am taking my Weight Watchers that I absolutely love and admire and I am turning it on its head. I am going vegan. Or, at least I am going to try and go vegan. And yes, you can be vegan and still do Weight Watchers.
Why am I going vegan? Well, quite frankly I need to test a theory. I have read that veganism can help a number of medical issues. When I research my medical issues, a number of them are said that they can be helped by veganism. So, I figure, I need to try. I need to try and tackle some of these issues in a newer way.