May 7: Coping with success

Remind me not to go on about how great I'm doing. It only leads to my split personality type demon thing resolving to knock me down a peg or four.

Okay, no, I haven't eaten the entire city. It only feels like it. My diseased perspective sees everything as an all-or-nothing battle royale. That's how the demon thingy gets a foothold. I have a moment where I waver uncertainly and while I try to catch my balance this little self-hating punk skateboards into me and I'm splat on my ass on the sidewalk, picking up the pieces of my tattered self esteem.

Okay, no. Sorry, I do enjoy the theatrics. Basically everything's fine. I haven't given into the call of the wild eating yet. Most days this week I had a little something extra. A package of Rolos on Sunday. Two thirds of a bag of Kettle Corn popcorn on Tuesday. A small bowl of BBQ Fritos on Wednesday. Four little single serving boxes of raisins instead of one. That sort of stuff. And all week I have been fighting off a powerful urge to stop at the Shoppers Drug Mart on the way home and pick up a box of chocolates. On Tuesday I went so far as to go into the store and stare at them. That was the night I got popcorn instead - I figured 500 extra calories was a win, compared to 1500 for the chocolates. I reckon y'all would agree.

I also have done pretty much SFA this week as far as exercise. Yesterday I actually lugged my gym bag to work, full intentions to run with the Ladies, then... didn't feel like it. I lugged the bag home again, rather than leaving it at work overnight since I work out with Derek on Fridays. I told myself I might feel like running at home that night. And actually, after watching two episodes of The Last 10 Pounds Bootcamp, I even kinda wanted to go downstairs for a run. I wound up talking myself out of it.

It's all a mental game. There's a feeling of having hit a threshold for willpower or something. Rebelliousness sets in. Gah. I hate that I'm like this. I see it all unfolding as it has so many times in my life and I'm just sort of at a loss. I worry that failure is inevitable, so why not just give in to it? The little extras each night would be okay, to a point, but of course a little extra never seems like enough. There is no indulgence big enough to satisfy this craving. I know, because I will eat to the point of physical pain, rest for awhile and then return to the source of affliction, still pretending that it holds some sort of comfort. And I know it doesn't! And I know I don't want to sabotage myself! And yet, clearly I do. Or, the skate-punk demon thingy does. I kinda want to punch my own lights out a bit.

I feel like the best thing to do is to not react. Just chill, sit with the feelings as long as I can stand to, not try to stifle whatever it is that is driving this urge to sabotage myself.

Feh. God I bug myself. Anyway, whatever, I'll be fine.

Apr 12: Thinspiration

Easter recap: nom nom nom nom
Plateau update: down one pound over past 2 weeks - I think Easter nomming may have fired up my metabolism a bit? Anyway, I'm feeling okay. Total loss is 13 pounds since Feb 1.

What a feelin...
So I was at the gym on Friday for my torture session with Derek. It wasn't my best outing. I gotta admit, I was a little whiny. Derek wasn't in the mood for it (imagine if your job entailed listening to fat people whine about push ups - shudder). I was feeling kinda bad about it. Not like, slit my wrists bad or anything, but just... "you can do better than this".

Anyway, the last 7 mins of our workout, we were doing some cardio on the bike. The last minute is always a set of two 20 second sprints, and I go as hard as I can. I'm thinking it probably looks impressive, especially because I sweat so much that I look like the Flashdance water scene.

So in the locker room, I'm blow-drying my hair and this tall, gorgeous, fit woman with a fantastic afro walks up to me on her way out and says, "You were really inspiring me during my workout today". For reals! I said, "Right on!" and bumped fists with her. She inspired me right back, or helped me to reframe my negative thoughts and feelings about myself. Cool.

Hail Ana full of grace...
The Miaouw and I have been talking about the online pro-ana movement, or sub-culture, or cult, not sure which is the best term to describe it. It is freaky and alarming and fascinating. If you don't know what I'm talking about, the link above gives some info, but it's better to visit some pro-ana sites in themselves, where young girls defend anorexia nervosa as a "lifestyle choice", not a mental illness, and post images of skeletal models as "thinspiration". Yeeeikes.

The Miaouw pointed out that for some girls, this value set has morphed into a quasi-religion, in which they pray to the personification, "Ana" to give them strength to resist temptation, to forgive them when they slip, to make them "free and light". Whenever I land on one of these sites, I always wonder if it's real or satire. I mean, dude, it is So! Fucked! Up! Check this out, from Cassandra's site, ~Save Me Ana~:

Dear Ana,

I offer you my soul, my heart and my bodily functions. I give you
all my earthly possessions. I seek your wisdom, your faith and your feather
weight.

I pledge to obtain the ability to float, to lower my weight to the single digits, I pledge to stare into space, to fear food, and to see obese images in the mirror. I will worship you and pledge to be a faithful servant until death does us part.

If I cheat on you and procreate with Ronald McDonald, Dave Thomas, the colonel or that cute little dog. I will kneel over my toilet and thrust my fingers deep in my throat and pray for your forgiveness.

If you stay with me, I will worship you daily, I will run miles a day, come rain, snow, bitter cold or searing heat I will run from the pain and in fright. I will do 1,000 sit ups a day and lie to my family about what I eat and how I feel. I will stop weeping when I feel your warm arms embrace my shivering body. I will numb the hunger pains with razor blades and your strength.

If you give me the strength to fade away I will love you and worship you forever. When i'm finally faded to nothing, when you've given me the gift of ending this torturous life. I will float on to the next world and be thin and beautiful payment for my undying love for you in this world. I ask only one more thing you, please ana, take away this hatred for my pain and allow me to be free and light.

Forever, Cassandra

I think I speak for all of us when I say holy fucking jesus h KEY-RIST on a popsicle stick. How can this not be read as satire? I srsly don't get it. Wow.

As is typical of us, we miaouws have irreverently started throwing out prayers to Ana. The Miaouw asked me to print this image (by Ruth Gwily) off for him at work, for his "thinspiration". I did, and when I got home and saw half a stick of butter he'd left out on the counter, I tacked it to the fatty demon, right in its heart! We're gonna start work on a treatment for a new TV show: Ana the Butter Slayer.

Well anyway, that's a two-sided look at inspiration; one sane and healthy and slightly ironic; the other totally off the charts crazy for cocoa puffs that I shall stab myself in the eye with if I attempt to ingest one. Whatever works for y'all!