Breakthrough: How I got my weight loss efforts to run on auto pilot

When losing weight is your number one goal, there isn’t much room for other priorities. The only time in recent years when this wasn’t my number one priority was when I was in school, and guess what, I gained a lot of weight during that time. Other than that, it’s been my focus. That’s a whole lot of energy, time and work that has gone into one thing with far too few results, other than preventing me from gaining even more weight.

Imagine if I had devoted all that space and energy to something else, something I was good at.  Who knows what I could have achieved by now!

When I finally figured out I couldn’t lose weight because I was focusing on the wrong things (diet and exercise instead of cognitive thinking), I redoubled my commitment to losing weight with a new approach. My counselor recommended The Beck Diet Solution: Train Your Brain to THINK Like a Thin Person, by Dr. Judith Beck. Her father, Aaron Beck is regarded as the Father of Cognitive Therapy, so I figured she knew a thing or two on the subject.

The book claimed it would help me change the way I think about diet, eating and weight loss “FOREVER.” I’d learn how to abolish my cravings, resist temptations, deal with emotional triggers, end emotional eating, and conquer excuses to overeat, according to the book’s description. I believe that if something sounds too good to be true, it probably is, so I was skeptical. I’ve been trying to do these things for twenty years; no way was one book going to get the job done. But with an open mind and trust in my counselor, I loaded it onto my Kindle.

The book is broken into 42 lessons. My first task was to write an Automatic Response Card (ARC) listing all the reasons I want to be thin. The idea is that when you’re staring down chocolate cake or want nothing but to eat your weight in french fries after a hard day, you have something to whip out and read to remind yourself what’s more important and why the food isn’t really what you want.

I had never really thought before about why I want to be thin. We all want to be rich, right, but seldom think of the specific reasons why. We usually just have some broad sense of increased happiness and quality of life. That’s what I thought when it came to being thin. So I had been dedicating the bulk of my time and energy to a goal that I didn’t even know specifically why I wanted! How ridiculous is that!?

So I thought about why I want to be thin and twenty specific, damn good reasons tumbled out of my brain and onto a piece of paper as fast as my hand could write them.

#1 on my list; the very FIRST thing I thought:

Being thin will free up space in my life for other goals.

I didn’t think much of that being the first thing I thought until this month, when the space showed up.

Let me back up.

I dedicated the entire month of January to cooking and eating right, exercising daily, and practicing my newly learned cognitive thinking skills. I read The Beck Diet Solution and beyond these things and work, I had little time for anything else. I was excited and enthusiastic; happy to devote so much time and energy to my goal. But January turned into February and I began to lose steam. I got sick, too. On February 10, I wrote “The Part When We Quit” to process all that I was feeling, and ultimately acknowledged it was normal and to keep my eye on the prize.

But then everything got even harder… and darker.

Here’s the thing – there is no instant gratification in weight loss. It is a slow, grueling process. I am a spinning wheel, something my friend, Kathy affectionately called me recently, and detest being stagnant. My husband has accused me of having shark syndrome. “When you stop swimming, you die,” he’s said. For me to work so hard on something, and make such slow progress, is downright depressing.

By the second half of February I was in a dark place. There was something else at work, too. When you eat to process and/or mask your emotions and then you stop, you need to replace it with something. We as people love to tell people to stop doing things; stop drinking, stop smoking, but we don’t tell people what to do instead. We drink, smoke, and eat for a reason! Take those things away and we have no choice but to feel really uncomfortable emotions we’ve tried so hard to hide from.

That’s what happened to me. I didn’t replace my eating with a healthy alternative and I was left feeling rundown, raw, and really fucking sad. I desperately needed something else to work on, but was too depressed and tired from working so hard. I was also afraid that if I shifted my focus, I’d lose any progress I made.

“What you’re doing is really, really hard,” my counselor said sympathetically as I sat across from her quiet and crying.

We agreed I could use some help from my Prozac, so I decided to take it every day, at least for a little while, instead of only the two weeks before my period to ease my PMDD.

Within a week, I felt better. And then March was upon us and the urge to create this new website overcame me like a virus. I was sick with excitement and desire and motivation. And so for two solid weeks I spent every spare moment working on this site. I was overjoyed. My need to NOT be stagnant was being met. I was moving forward, making progress, and it was happening quickly.

Once I finished the site, I realized that after two solid months, weight loss was no longer my primary focus. I had shifted my priority to the website and the most incredible thing happened. I didn’t gain weight. The weight loss efforts went on auto pilot and ran in the background. I had created space for something else.

I was able to do this because I spent two months creating habits and for once, they took! I cooked, I meal planned, I exercised. But since those things were habit, they didn’t require so much thought and energy anymore! I almost gave up that second month, but I stuck with it. Now, I am beginning to reap the benefits, and it’s glorious.

Eating Frogs & Talking to Yourself

I continue to be amazed by the timing and synchronicity of things. I can’t help but view these events as some sort of cosmic reassurance that I’m on the right track creating my own rituals, setting new moon intentions and working my way through A Course in Weight Loss to help overcome my emotional over-eating.

Thursday, the 16th was a new moon so I finalized my intentions for the new cycle the night before. Writing down my short term goals last moon cycle motivated me more than any trick or tool had before.  Maybe it was the physical act of writing them down and seeing them in black and white, or maybe it was the energy of the moon or the “officialness” of the ritual – making my intentions known and believing I could achieve them, rather than just half-assing them off to the void. I believe it was all three. Anyway, it was a productive and successful cycle. I did tough things, including a few exercises I had been putting off. I found that I wanted to get the hardest things done first, and I did.

My new motto has become “eat the frog first.” My lovely sister-in-law shared the motivational expression with me, one she had learned in business school, and it stuck. The idea is to just get it over with and do the hardest thing first. Everything seems easier after that – you don’t have to think about that task anymore. It’s like working out first thing in the morning. For the rest of the day, you’re off the hook.

I’ve actually been practicing this method for quite some time. Now I have a fun expression for it. I have a good friend who absolutely hates when I say this (and I do say it often). It’s funny to me, though considering he eats his food precisely in the order of what he likes least first, literally saving the best for last. I also rather finish my meal with the lingering taste of french fries in my mouth than frog guts. But I digress.

So I ate the frog first last moon cycle and included a hard thing for this moon cycle because I believe that if it doesn’t challenge you, it doesn’t change you, and if it doesn’t change you, you’re not making progress.

The “theme” of the last moon cycle was creativity, mindfulness and action. I felt that energy, creating my own rituals and taking action. I completed Lesson #1 in A Course in Weight Loss and moved on to the next, titled “Thin You, Meet Not-Thin You.” This lesson involves getting to know and love the part of you that overeats. I smiled when I read up on the “theme” of this new moon in Cancer: self-love and compassion.

Synchronicity, guys.

For Lesson #2, Marianne Williamson writes that Not-Thin You “is not your enemy; she is an unintegrated part of yourself. She is an aspect of you that is demanding to be seen and heard.” The point is to give her the love and attention she needs and deserves. “It does feel odd that we should honor a part of ourselves that we do not want, but Not-Thin You will not go away until she is listened to.”

Ever since the stress in my life reached all time highs and I put on 30 pounds of extra weight, I have sternly exclaimed that THIS (motioning to my body) is NOT me! “I feel like I am walking around in a fat suit!” I have been so conflicted feeling one way and looking another, going around defending myself. Then I realized through reading this book that I have been denying an entire dimension of myself and no wonder I was feeling so conflicted. “…and in a dysfunctional effort to numb the pain of the conflict, you’ve only created more of it.”

Bingo.

Since we can’t just love on command or turn off our anger, communication is necessary. So Lesson #2 calls for initiating an honest and transparent dialogue between Thin You and Not-Thin You.

So Thin Me wrote to Not-Thin Me and I laid it out on the table. To summarize, I took responsibility for all I had put us through, but expressed my disappointment in her inability to bounce back now that life isn’t as stressful. I told her she embarrasses me and holds me back, but also thanked her for getting up that mountain in Colorado with my brother that gained 1,400 feet of elevation in only 1.6 miles. I asked her what the fuck her problem is and pointed out all the things I have done to help her. I insisted she tells me what she needs. I told her I can’t move on with my life until she gets her shit together.

Then Not-Thin Me responded. She thanked me for all that I’m doing for her, especially getting our heart rate up more and working my way through this book. “I am stronger than I look,” she wrote. She pointed out that it’s not all her fault and cited specific examples where I’ve screwed up, “so stop blaming me for everything!” As for what she needs: attention. Patience, love, kindness, compassion. “Stop ignoring me and saying you’re not me because I hate to tell you this, but YOU are ME,” she wrote.

We are much closer to reconciliation. I realize now how wrong it was for me to deny her existence. Hopefully as she begins to feel safe, she will relax, and we can work together.

Again, I share these lessons not only for emotional eaters. This exercise translates to Happy You and Not-Happy You, Sober You and Drunk You, Adult You and Little-Kid You. Is there a dimension of yourself that you’re denying? Perhaps someone fighting for your attention? Open up the lines of communication, lay your side out there and see what they have to say. You may be surprised…

The exercises in this book and losing weight aren’t the only things I’m working on. Two days in to this moon cycle I ate my frog and the rest of my intentions seem like a cake walk (I’ll substitute some fruit for the cake). I am also happy to report that I will be submitting an essay for professional publication. (Wish me luck!)

What are your intentions for this moon cycle, this month, this week, or even just tomorrow? Eat your frog. It may suck at the moment, but think of how good you’ll feel afterward.

Eating frogs

How I Won the Weekend

Sitting playfully in six inches of saltwater, a beer in one hand and a book in the other, I turned my face up to the sun, smiled and thought to myself, life is good. It was an incredible day and I was at peace.

Taking a little break from paddleboarding, not a care in the world.

That was Friday.

But Saturday found me not once, but twice, sitting in my parked car in locations nearly 70 miles apart, sobbing. There was no peace.

How quickly things change.

A year ago I’d most likely have claimed the upsetting events of Saturday ruined my entire weekend, discrediting the joy and peace of Friday and casting a shadow over Sunday. But now I know better. Nothing can touch my Friday; it can never be altered. My days have explicit boundaries now.

As for Saturday, it was all my fault. I’m not going to go into what happened here. There were so many contributing factors, but in the end, the bottom line is that I did not mentally prepare and I went into the day with expectations. I was not compassionate, or forgiving, or patient, or the person I want to be. No matter what happened, I had the power to not let it affect me so greatly, regardless of how much I was weakened by other external circumstances. That is where I failed. The person I am trying to be/want to be and the person I was/am collided in a battle royale as my thoughts duked it out. My more practiced, more powerful, defensive angry self ate my weaker, gentler self for breakfast. Part of the later upset stemmed from fear. I hadn’t felt this angry and hopeless in a long time – the darkness inside me was menacing. As my thoughts darkened, my emotions strengthened, racking my body with turbulence.

“Your emotions are the slaves to your thoughts, and you are the slave to your emotions.” -Elizabeth Gilbert

Finally, the exhaustion of my eyelids from a day’s worth of squeezing tears down my cheeks got the best of me and I fell asleep, putting the day forever behind me. But not before I apologized.

Sunday the battle between old and new, negative and positive waged on with early points going to Gentle Jessica for rising early and sitting in her favorite chair with a book, and even making a healthy breakfast. Dejected Jessica made frequent appearances on the couch, mindlessly channel surfing, daydreaming of potato chips, and shedding the occasional tear.

I’d force myself up, accomplish a relatively small task, and find myself back on the couch. I used my judgement and had a guilt-free, albeit large lunch. Back to the couch. I forced myself to pull some weeds, clean out my car. Couch.

Finally, mid-afternoon in a herculean showing, I decided a hard workout at the gym was exactly what I needed. Furthermore, it would force me to shower. And if I was showered, why not go to weekly meditation group? If I was driving past Whole Foods on the way home, why not stop for some fresh produce to ensure a healthy start to the week? There was no reason why not, so I did all those things, proving to myself that I can move on; I CAN do what’s best for me.

Saturday may have gone to Dejected Jessica, but I took home the win on Sunday. Friday’s showing of bravery and athletic ability in the water, friendship, relaxation, laughter, and peace received a million points, breaking the tie.

Not every day will be good. What matters is that we value the good days and hold them in our hearts, and bounce back from the bad ones having learned a new lesson (or several). As for me, I learned that I can accept full responsibility for my actions and stop blaming others. Also, that I have the power to break the destructive cycle of giving in to misery and take steps to do what is best for me. I wouldn’t know these two things right now if I wasn’t given the opportunity to discover them.

Brick by Brick: Tearing Down Your Emotional Wall

Last week I confessed I am an emotional over-eater. The support and understanding I received after that post was inspiring and heartwarming, and I thank you all. Some of you shared your struggles with me privately and although it saddens me to know so many of us are suffering, I also find it encouraging: we know we’re not alone and we’re talking about it.

Admitting you’re powerless over a problem is the first step in commonly known 12-step programs. For many people, food is just as addictive as alcohol or narcotics. You may not understand this or believe this could be possible, but it’s true. That’s why programs like Over-eaters Anonymous (O.A.) exist. And remember, we all need food to survive. An alcoholic can stop drinking. A drug addict can stop taking drugs and detox. A food addict cannot stop eating. They must learn to manage and live with their addiction.

I am not taking a 12-step approach to my emotional over-eating. As I mentioned earlier, I am working through the exercises in A Course in Weight Loss: 21 Spiritual Lessons for Surrendering Your Weight Forever by Marianne Williamson. I just think there is an opportunity to practice compassion and to reserve judgement toward overweight people. An overweight person at an ice cream parlor is not that different than an alcoholic sitting at a bar. Some empathy could go a long way.

Admitting to myself I have this problem, and then admitting it publicly here, has made a tremendous difference. Two weeks ago I went for blood work to have my thyroid checked – that was the extent to which I denied my overeating. My thyroid is just fine. There was no denying it anymore. Yes, I was active. Yes, I ate right the majority of the time. But yes, when I messed up, I messed up big, and that was why I couldn’t lose weight.

So now that I finally know this, and you know this, I can get to work on fixing it! I am finding that most often any lesson in anything can be applied to various areas of life so please, don’t stop reading just because you may not be an emotional eater. Surely, the following exercise can benefit all.

Lesson #1: Tear Down the Wall
Try to imagine a brick wall around you – a wall of flesh and thoughts built by your subconscious mind. Residing in this wall are all your fears; of people and of life itself. Looking closely, you see that every brick has something written on it. Words like: shame, anger, embarrassment, selfishness, jealousy, inferiority, pressure.
According to Williamson, our bodies are “merely a screen onto which is projected the nature of [our] thoughts. When the weight is gone from [our] consciousness, it will be gone from [our] physical experience.”
We’ve all used the expression ‘heavy heart’ or ‘heavy mind.’ Maybe it’s possible that heaviness translates to actual weight as life adds more to our proverbial plates.
“The weight on your mind, and thus on your body, is the weight of your own emotional shadows that have not yet had a light shone on them. They might be unprocessed feelings, negative thoughts, or fear-based attitudes and personality traits.”

Our systems are built to process waste; that includes emotionally and mentally. But when we hang on to excess emotional baggage, we do not allow it to dissolve. We all have unprocessed emotions, but we all express it in different ways: over-eating, drinking, violent outbursts… “The form of dysfunction is not particularly relevant; what matters is that we address the unprocessed suffering behind it.” 

That involves a willingness to be real and honest with yourself about emotional issues, and then a willingness to release them.

On a journal, I wrote various emotions in thick marker on the top of each page: GUILT; ABANDONMENT; FEAR; JUDGEMENT; BURDEN; 18 words in all.

I got to work writing down my experiences that are true for me, those that have resulted in these negative emotions.

Don’t go unconscious! With each paroxysm of shame, my instinct was to try to shake the memories from my mind, those that make me wish I could go back in time and not do whatever shameful or embarrassing thing that I did at age 10, 15, 20, 25, etc. Those things that still have the power to make me cringe and seek cover under a blanket.

But I didn’t shake them off. I forced myself to remember and then found words to convey the harsh realities, articulating that which was never said out loud, let alone written on paper. Flipping from page to page, emotion to emotion, forwards and backwards as thoughts occurred to me, the most unexpected thing was that it became easier as more truths poured from my hand.

I felt lighter.

Now that I have this notebook full of my deepest, darkest emotions, fears, judgements and most shameful and embarrassing moments (I hid this thing like it was MY JOB), it is time to release it all. I am going to offer it up and away, ask for all these emotions to be taken from me, ask for forgiveness, and do some forgiving myself.

I am going to sit with my notebook a few more days, making sure I’ve captured everything as I also finalize plans for my release ritual. I feel that this act is worthy of a special ceremony. Everything that has happened to me has shaped me. I want to properly acknowledge all of it, properly express gratitude where appropriate, and properly say goodbye… to the shame, to the people who hurt me, to my guilt over things long gone, to my thoughts that I am inferior, to my judgements, to all the stories in my head associated with those 18 words.

These sorts of release rituals are not unheard of. Writing on balloons and releasing them in celebratory fashion is a common one. Shredding the pages of my notebook will not be enough. This is an exercise in letting go. I want something final. I only want to do this once. I want something worthy of my lifetime so far.

I am excited. I am ready.

If emotions are weighing you down: guilt, burden, unforgiveness of someone who hurt you, then do this exercise with me. What do the bricks around you say? Write it down. Get it of your head and out of your heart.

And then let it go. Let’s all our souls become lighter, together.

Admitting I Am an Emotional Overeater

I want ice cream. And Cheez-its. I just pried a bag of Lindt chocolate truffles out of my own hands and in an act of defiance threw it out, grabbed my laptop and started aggressively tapping away these words. There’s no denying it anymore. I am an emotional overeater.

My husband just told me he is going out for ice cream and asked me if I wanted any. “No,” I answered through gritted teeth. For a split second I wondered if I should throw up while he’s gone.

I battle with food and my weight EVERY.SINGLE.DAY. of my life. I’m so uncomfortable in my own skin that my reflection in the mirror catches me by surprise at times. I am not this overweight person. I’m active. I drink water. I’m a healthy cook and meal planner. I am an educated consumer, an expert calorie counter, and know the mathematics of losing weight. What I also am, however, is an emotional eater. It was only within the past few months that I could learn to admit this to myself.

There's no denying that I am an emotional overeater. I've come to understand why and I am learning what to do about it so I can reclaim my life.  #weightloss

The Emotions I Eat

Tonight a terrible storm ripped through the area. Tornado warnings blared from the television while trees bent horizontal in front of our windows and hail slammed against them. I identified my urge to nibble stemmed from nervousness and I fought it off, afraid to look away from the windows into the fridge. Once the storm passed was another story, unfortunately. Relief, perhaps?

There is hardly an emotion I don’t associate with eating. Happiness: celebrate with food; Frustration: you deserve some food; Anxiety/Nervousness: eat the time away; Sadness: numb it with food; Guilt: distract yourself with food; Abandonment: seek comfort from food; Shame: punish yourself with food.

My mom was an emotional eater. With her permission, I can share with you that she went to Over-eaters Anonymous (O.A.) for a time after her divorce. She’d drag me along when I was too young to stay home alone. I remember all those overweight people standing in a circle, holding hands, reciting the Serenity Prayer. My Mom shared at a meeting that she had eaten nearly a dozen donuts and in an act of desperation, threw the box in the trash. She later retrieved it from the can, had another one while crying with each bite, until she finally threw them back into the trash and dumped used coffee grinds over them for good measure.

I’ve never eaten anything out of the trash, but I will tell you that I see a lot of my mom’s behaviors in me. I don’t know how much is learned and how much is genetics, but I can’t keep living this way. I feel powerless a lot of the time; miserable. I can’t seem to go more than a week without a setback.

Beginning to Understand Why I Am an Emotional Overeater

I started reading A Course in Weight Loss: 21 Spiritual Lessons for Surrendering Your Weight Forever. Although I am only on the first lesson, it’s really hitting home. The goal is to reset the mind in order to reset the body. The notion being that we are perfect, but have a tendency to forget who we are. When we can’t remember who we are, we have trouble behaving like the person who in our heart we most long to be. Fear is powerful.

“[Fear] expresses itself as an imposter self, perverting your true nature and making you behave in a way that is opposite of who you truly are.”

Overeaters have a delusional relationship with food, imbuing it with power it doesn’t actually possess, while indulging in an act of self-hatred. The book refers to it as an “emotionally violent act” to which we then scold ourselves for doing, “inflicting further violence.” I know this vicious cycle all too well.

The book aims to help us replace fear with love, and it starts off with an intense emotional exercise to shed excess weight from our minds, the weight of our emotional shadows.

I will be elaborating on this exercise in my next post because I am finding it powerful and beneficial, and it would be for anyone, not just an overeater.

I’m not going to eat anything else tonight. I managed to distract myself long enough. When referring to my weight, I say all the time, “This isn’t me!” But here I am, unexpectedly announcing to all of you that I am an emotional overeater. Why? Because I suppose this is me. And I know for a fact I am not alone. But just because this is who I am now, doesn’t mean it is who I am supposed to be, or who I will remain.

Alas, this is another part of my journey to happiness. I have some serious work ahead of me as I work on getting my emotional shit together.

Thanks so much for reading.

Am I Choosing Happiness? I Can If I Pause.

When you start your day repeating 108 times “I have a choice”, the idea of choice stays with you throughout the day. So I’ve been asking myself: Am I choosing happiness? 

We can learn to slow down and remember we have options. We can then make the best decision by asking ourselves: am I choosing happiness?

Ask yourself: Am I choosing happiness?

I’ve been working to limit the choices I make unconsciously when I’m emotional. But to do so, I’ve needed to learn how to pause and question my options. That’s been challenging, particularly because I’m a passionate and emotional person. When I’m able to pause, I’m no longer at the mercy of impulsiveness and options present themselves. Choosing the best option isn’t always easy, though. So to help me, I try to approach my options by asking, “what will bring me happiness?

In The Art of Happiness, Howard C. Cutler, M.D writes, “Approaching our daily decisions and choices with this question in mind shifts the focus from what we are denying ourselves to what we are seeking – ultimate happiness” (36).

Let’s use emotional eating, something I am all too familiar with, as an example. Let’s say you had a bad day; you got caught in the rain without an umbrella so you were wet and cold all morning, work was stressful and nothing seemed to go right, and then you snapped at your spouse when you got home and now he’s angry with you. You’re hungry and your emotional response is to reach for the take-out menu and order your favorite greasy, cheesy comfort food.

But you pause and catch yourself. You remember that you have a choice and don’t have to allow your emotions to dictate what you eat. You become aware of your options: one, indulge in some comfort food or two, cook the salmon that is defrosted in the fridge and roast the vegetables you bought to go with it when you were feeling positive. Tough call. Look at each option and ask yourself: which will bring me happiness.

If you’re anything like me, pizza brings you happiness. But if you’re also like me, that happiness is fleeting and sometimes leaves you feeling guilty or with regret, particularly on days when pizza wasn’t planned and salmon is defrosted in your fridge. When asking if something will bring you happiness, I’m not referring to short term, fleeting, instant-gratification-happiness, like eating a slice of pizza, but a lasting happiness that doesn’t waiver with mood fluctuations and emotions.

Dr. Cutler writes:

“With this perspective, it’s easier to make the “right decision” because we are acting to give ourselves something, not denying or withholding something from ourselves – an attitude of moving toward rather than moving away, an attitude of embracing life rather than rejecting it” (36).

So rather than thinking that choosing salmon means denying ourselves pizza, we can think instead that by choosing the salmon we are giving ourselves happiness and embracing a healthier life, rather than rejecting it. This can be applied to nearly all small, day to day decisions. Stay in or go out? Vent your frustration or keep your mouth shut? Go to bed early or edit five more pages? Go to the gym or go home? What brings you more happiness may change in each situation.

The goal is to have control of one’s life and make decisions in our own best interests. We can pave the way toward a happier life with less guilt and regret, while letting go of victim-hood and the idea that circumstances rule over us. We just need to remember to pause and ask ourselves what will bring me happiness.

This is where I’m at now. Learning to slow down and remember I have a choice, assessing my options and making decisions that will bring us the most happiness.

Am I choosing happiness?

Are you choosing happiness in your day to day life? I’d love to hear from you.

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