Mar 24: The trouble with DubDub

Good blogging, weightful wonders!

First things first: yesterday was WeighDay. I was up half a pound. Irritating, though not unexpected. On the weekend, I gave in to the Call of the Bile. At the time, of course, the bile was disguised in its pre-digested form as a Caramel Dacquoise. For those not in the know, this is a cake featuring alternating layers of hazelnut meringue, buttercream, cake and caramel sauce. They sell a frozen one at the Rabba convenience/grocery near my apartment. I’ve been eyeing that puppy for weeks. On Saturday night, I had a hankering to just go bananas. Except not with fruit. I also ate two small bags of chips. (I told myself this was an improvement on one party size bag, and I believe that.) I didn’t eat the entire cake – I very thoughtfully left about a quarter of it for the Miaouw. Anyway, I calculated the points and I used all of my reserve points EXCEPT one. So technically, I stayed within the rules of DubDub. But apparently my body didn’t get the memo. Anyway, whatever, half a pound = no big whup, and I sure did enjoy that binge.

So me and L-Mac² went to the lunch time weigh-in yesterday and sat through the tedious meeting. Afterward, we both agreed that the meetings are basically lame. They always say that people who go to meetings are whatever per cent more successful than those who don’t. I make myself sit through them as a sort of physical and mental testament to my commitment to staying on the program, as opposed to any inspiration I derive. The problem is that a lot of the women there are really old school and they have internalized all these unhealthy notions of “dieting” and being “good” or “bad”, wanting to eat something but telling themselves “I shouldn’t”. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve internalized this shit too, but at least I know better, that I… uh… shouldn’t… fock... Well, you know. I at least struggle against these notions. Whereas a lot of the unselfconcious discussion at these meetings is amongst the lifers who trade their “secrets” to weight loss, like chewing gum. (When this was suggested last week, I resisted the urge to put my hand up and tell them that chewing gum is also a trade secret of anorexics, bulimics, and the eating disordered. I learned this first hand when I was being diagnosed with binge eating disorder some years ago.)

Yesterday, the leader asked us to talk about how we can re-frame how we think about so-called “failures” (a.k.a. “caramel dacquoise”). How can we take a positive spin on these incidents we might have previously thought of as failures? I started to say “it’s not a failure, it’s a choice” but somebody else spoke up with some sort of easily digestible, predictable and pat response that fit the leader’s notes. But what I wanted to say, how I wish the discussion had gone, was to say that it’s not a fail or a win, it’s a choice. You decide you want to eat three quarters of a caramel and meringue layer cake? You understand the consequences going in, right? So, enjoy. Everything is choices and consequences of those choices. Choices in and of themselves are not inherently "good" or "bad", "win" or "fail". We project all kinds of meaning and judgment onto them and then we get all fucked up about it. I know I enjoyed my binge on the weekend. I know that it’s a behaviour I chose rather than sitting with whatever feelings were coming up, and dealing with them. I’m okay with that.

I don’t know though. Probably this sort of approach is a bit too vague and intangible to be promoted at your local Weight Watchers meeting.