an epiphany

me, high school graduation photo

Last night was my first of five meetings with the nutritionist, Lisa, at the Bethlehem Township Community Center. Her day job is with one of the hospitals.

She thought I was "motivated" to start this at this time of the year. Perhaps "crazy" is a better word. But I don't think I gorge myself at holiday meals.

Some background, for people who haven't been on this journey with me.

The reason I wanted to go see a professional was to sort out all this information I've been reading on healthy eating, and come up with some way to make it work. Ultimate goal, I lower my blood pressure and get off meds. Loosing a couple pounds wouldn't hurt either.

My way hasn't worked. Keeping a food diary recently made me realize I eat way to many carbs and sugar. But if I don't eat carbs, I'm hungry.

That's the first thing I know for sure.

The second thing is if you tell me "no" I will eat twice, maybe three times the amount I eat now. So I need something that doesn't have "no" in it. The old 80% good/20% bad theory.

The third thing is I am an emotional eater. I eat when I happy, sad, stressed, bored, it goes on and on.

So I went in there looking for the magic wand, and I didn't find it. And that disappointed me. I went for healthy eating. She's all about making a diet.  If I wanted to count and measure I would have gone to Weight Watchers.

So she took my background. Looked kind of shocked when I told her I was well underweight before my mid-twenties. I guess most people with my problem struggled their whole lives.

She weighed me. I'm 10 pounds heavier than on the doctors scale. That hurt.

She wants to take away my last Coke of the day. It won't happen. On this I am sure. I told her how much I used to drink and she was floored.

She doesn't count walking as exercise. You only burn 100 calories an hour. Steps either. Or T'ai Chi. She'd like me to go to the gym. I'd rather stand on my head and clean the toilet with a toothbrush than do that. If it doesn't work for me than it work.  I'm "active". I don't "exercise".

So my goals for this week is one 16 ounce Coke per day or less, four "meals" a day, keep a food and exercise journal. Initially she'll fill in the calories. I have to weigh and measure. Yuck. She's going to give me a generous 1500 calories a day. She thinks I eat at least 500-750 more.

My friend Angel has been trying to give me advice. But as always, I'm stubborn and pig headed and don't listen. She told me to email her last night and tell her how it went. I did.  This was part of her reply:

" Well, I know you hate the word diet and it's emotional implications—but remember with your health issues that a diet is more medical than a mere "gee I have to lose weight."

A medical diet—though restrictive and a pain in the ass—will train you what's good/ what's bad/what's appropriate and make these things habit…   I know you want the freedom and knowledge to make good choices. This is the potential boot camp to shock you into it. "

I didn't like that reply. I got my panties into a gather pretty dang quick. When I typed the reply I had a bit of an epiphany:

"You’re right, I do need to lose weight. But that’s not why I decided to do this. I wanted to learn to eat right. Maybe I should have joined weight watchers. Accountability....

Actually I probably already know what to eat. It’s just doing it.

But that is not the problem. Not even close. That light bulb came on late last night. I have a food addiction. I chose food instead of booze or sex or drugs. THAT is the big problem. I should go to a shrink instead of a nutritionist.

Meanwhile, I had my half cup of oatmeal for breakfast and I’m not a bit hungry but I am counting the minutes till lunch. And more than likely I’ll eat lunch and I’ll do the same thing till dinner.  Yep. I bet if you looked food addiction up, that’s exactly what it would say was a symptom.

But unlike booze or drugs or sex or shopping or any number of things stopping the activity is not an option."

OMG. I'm a food addict.