Dusting Off

Hello Friends,

This is the blog that I have dreaded.

I knew it would eventually happen, and in my altruistic thinking during the beginning of this journey, I thought this wouldn't be that big of a deal.

I was wrong.

This is a big deal. A very big deal. And I am not happy about it.

I gained weight.

There, I said it. I'll get to the number a little bit later in this. But I said it.

And I am angry. Really angry.

I have been sitting on this for a bit - hence the lack of posts for a while.

I actually had to have the woman at Weight Watchers repeat this to me twice when she said, "You went up."

I cringe even now as I write those words. "You went up."

Oh, that stinks (a nice replacement word for one more descriptive of how I feel). It really stinks. Those words, "You went up," just took the wind right out of my sails.

I have been hanging out in the doldrums for a couple of weeks now, unable to regain speed or a clear sense of direction. Feeling... oh, feeling a whole lot of stuff. Stuck. Angry. Disappointed. Frustrated. Embarrassed. Sad. Exacerbated.

I keep thinking about three letters "smh."

If you are anything like me, you may not know what this means. It is short for "Shaking my head" (thank you, Farah, for the explanation!). I feel like I have been standing still, arms crossed, right foot tapping, head down, smh. Mm. Mm. Mm.

But then I began to think about a line from one of the Batman movies. "Do you know why we fall? So we might learn [how] to pick ourselves up."

From each fall, and we all fall (I need to remind myself.), we have the opportunity to learn.

Hmmm. A learning opportunity. What can I learn from this fall? What have I learned from the sting of the reality of "You went up?"

1. To "table" counting points/calories for even one meal is the edge of the precipice, a cliff (not slope) that returns me to old habits, old thinking, denial about my eating problem (yes, problem... just like an alcoholic has a drinking problem).
2. I MUST count and be mindful of all I eat, every bite, all the time, regardless of the event, the location, or the food selections available. Period.
3. Alcohol = liquid sugar. Too many points. Not worth the cost of consuming.
4. To skip weigh-ins removes accountability, but most importantly, it removes SUPPORT in the journey. It's hard impossible to remain steadfast without the support.
5. Time to get serious about getting moving. Tomorrow I meet with a trainer - first appointment set. (Yay-ish)

Bottom line. I gained 3.8 pounds. This really stings. When put against the work I have put into this journey, those 3.8 pounds actually add up to one MONTH of work. Yep, a MONTH. two weeks of weight loss (regained), plus two weeks of weight gain. When I do the math this way, the momentary "bliss" of my ignorance in eating mindlessly again vanishes. Poof. No bliss. Just the rock-hard wall of reality I crashed into with my eyes closed tight.

I think I will keep my eyes open now.

The shock and dismay have finally subsided. Time to dust myself off, get back in the saddle again, and embrace what I learned as a good lesson... it sure did hurt when I hit the ground so hard. Maybe I'll just walk for now.

Please continue to pray for me as I continue my journey.

Giddy-up.

With much Love and Blessings,
Erin

 "... those who stumbled are armed with strength." (1 Samuel 2:4)