Goodbye 2016 … and good riddance!

People think that because I’ve finally lost a lot of weight, everything’s great and I no longer have a weight problem.  Not true.  Quite the contrary!  I continue to struggle often.  In fact, it’s worse now that I know what it means to let my food addiction take over.  I also know that if I gain all the weight back, I’ll die inside and I doubt I’ll be able to recover.

My struggling can last a few days or – when it’s really bad – for a few months.  When I struggle for whatever reason (i.e., the universe has thrown a few wrenches in my life), I cope with food.  It’s automatic, often unconscious, and usually uncontrollable.  Some people cope with negative stimuli with alcohol, others with drugs, or it could be gambling perhaps.  Unfortunately, there’s an array of self-destructive coping mechanisms available.  It’s fascinating to me that at our very worst, some of us self-destruct by engulfing ourselves in our respective addiction to make us “feel better” which only compounds our problems in the end.  So why do we do it?  Is it a form of punishment that we deem necessary because we feel we don’t deserve better?  I’m afraid I don’t have the answer.  The best I can hope for is to hang on by a thread until my struggling episode ends – until the next one surfaces. 

When I struggle, staying on my weight-loss journey becomes incredibly difficult, if not impossible.  My binging could be with healthy foods or “bad” foods.  It doesn’t matter.  The result is the same:  weight gain.  The gain alone is accompanied by an array of negative emotions which can exacerbate the vicious cycle of coping with food and gaining weight, becoming depressed over the weight gain, and reaching for food to feel better, thereby continuing the cycle.  I imagine alcoholics do exactly the same thing only with booze instead of food.  Many of you will know exactly what I’m talking about (regardless of your coping mechanism) and are probably nodding in agreement as you read this.

In any case, although there were some great moments during 2016, overall it was a tough year for me and I’ve been struggling off and on, with the latter half of the year being particularly difficult.  This struggle resulted in my gaining/losing the same 20 lbs. over and over again.  In the summer of 2016, I saw 166 lbs. on the scale for the first time in decades which meant I had lost 140 lbs. total to date.  What a personal accomplishment!  However, it only lasted a brief moment and my weight started to creep up.  I’ve been stuck between 175 and 186 lbs. for the last six months.  In a matter of a few months, I gained 20 lbs. from the lowest weight I had reached.  I still lost 120 lbs. overall, but I’ve been obsessing on the fact that I was 20 lbs. lighter just a few months ago.  Tunde, my current trainer, keeps telling me to let it go, stop worrying about those 20 lbs., and do what I know I need to do.  She says that when I stop worrying about it, the 20 lbs. will disappear.  Flaminia (“Fla”), my first trainer, used to tell me the same thing.

It’s easy to say, “Stop obsessing about gaining a few pounds!” but how can I not obsess?  I know what it means to gain weight, even a little bit.  Once it starts creeping up, it’s a legitimate concern that I might not be able to stop.  It reminds me when I was in my early 20s and I had lost weight to see 150 lbs. on the scale which for my height is a great weight.  I felt fabulous, but it didn’t last long.  I joke that it only lasted a week, but I’m not too far off by saying that.  Within a short time, I started gaining weight and I now know where I ultimately ended up years later.  So, yes, it’s a viable concern that it might happen again.

If you look at my little life from the outside, things are just fine.  A friend of mine keeps telling me, “You should be happy!  You’re on top of the world.”  But he’s not in my head.  He doesn’t know what negative emotions/thoughts go through my head when I’m stressed, bored, or unhappy.  He doesn’t even know what stresses me out!  He doesn’t have to endure the problems I am solely responsible for solving either.  Why is it that there’s always someone ready to tell you what to think, how to feel, or what to do?  It’s annoying.  It’s like when I’m having a painful procedure at the doctor’s or dentist’s and they say, “It’s okay.”  My response is always the same:  That’s easy for YOU to say!  I’m the one going through the pain!

So what happened to me in 2016?  First of all, it’s important to note that it takes very little to derail me from my weight-loss journey.  When negative things happen to me one after the other, it really pushes me off my tracks.  There are two things that particularly stress me out:  the unknown and problems that drag on for months.

I started 2016 on a negative note when Fla moved to New York the first week of January.  Coincidentally, she moved one year ago this week.  If you’ve been reading my blog, you know how instrumental Fla was to my success.  During 2015, thanks to Fla, I lost over 90 lbs. and I regained my life.  When she moved away, I lost my biggest supporter, the one person who took me out of my comfort zone and made me succeed, albeit kicking and screaming.  Even though we still keep in touch regularly, it’s not the same.  When she left, I felt lost.  Tunde has picked up some of the slack, but I never fully recovered from losing Fla’s support.  It’s a strange connection you establish with the first person who changed your life.  I’ve spoken to other people who’ve had the same experience and they built the same connection with their trainer as I did with mine.

As luck would have it, the very same week Fla left, I experienced severe stomach pain which landed me in the emergency room twice.  What a way to start the new year, in the emergency room and in pain!  No one could tell me what the problem was although they thought it could be anything from a pierced stomach (which I had once before and nearly died from it) to stomach cancer to kidney stones to gall stones.  During the next two or three months, I underwent several tests until it was determined that the culprit had been an ulcer that was by then healing thanks to medication.  Although it turned out to be nothing really serious in the end, I was stressed out for a few months not knowing what the problem was, not to mention worrying that I’d have another painful recurrence in the meantime.  In general, the unknown is really hard for me to deal with because the possibilities of what might happen are endless.  I’m the sort of person who HAS to know the good, the bad, and the ugly NOW so that I can plan the future.  Without having a plan, my brain goes into over drive as to the different options and it's stressful not knowing which course I'll have to take.

At the same time that I was dealing with Fla’s move and my medical issues, my mother’s dog, Mitzi, got hurt.  For the past year or two, I’ve really enjoyed taking Mitzi on 3-mile power walks.  It’s good exercise for us both.  At the half-way point of our path, there’s a small park where she chases her beloved ball and I can enjoy the sunshine and fresh air in peace and quiet.  It was my regrouping/meditation time.  Early in 2016, Mitzi started limping after we spent time together.  The situation got worse and eventually she was diagnosed with two partial torn ACCs in her rear knees (ACLs in humans).  The only recourse:  surgery.  The recuperation for the surgery is Mitzi having to live in a crate for two months PER LEG!  The only time she can come out of the crate is to go potty or for vet visits.  The rest of the time she has to be restrained to keep her from jumping or running.  This situation pushed me over the edge because I felt incredibly guilty that I had been responsible for her injuries.  The idea that I was the reason she was in so much pain and would need surgery really depressed me.  Even after the surgeons told me that it’s the most common orthopedic injury they see in dogs (I had never heard of it before) and that some dogs are prone to this injury whether they’re exercised or not, it still didn’t ease my guilt.

For months I worried about what the whole ordeal would be like, I worried about the pain she’d have to endure, I worried about any unforeseen complications after surgery, and worried about whether my mother would be able to manage on her own since I don’t live with her.  Both my mother and I worried about how Mitzi, a young and energetic dog who loves to run, would handle being stuck in a crate full time for four months.  I also felt guilty that my mother incurred the huge expense of these surgeries (she insisted on paying) and would be tasked with having to manage with the recuperation.  All because I had injured this dog.  Again, the unknown set me off, compounded by tremendous guilt.

In the end, thankfully, things have turned out okay so far.  Mitzi, bless her little heart, adapted really well to her new situation.  She just finished her two-month recuperation on the first surgery and had the second surgery today.  Although the whole thing starts over again for the next two months, at least we know what to expect.  If all goes well, we’ll be able to resume our 3-mile treks and trips to the park by spring. 
 

The other two things that prolonged my struggles this year were more medical issues.  On two separate occasions, during routine exams, the doctors were concerned with a couple of things and I was scheduled to have two different biopsies, one in September and the other in December.  In the end, both situations turned out to be nothing, but worrying for weeks before each biopsy was scheduled and then waiting a week afterwards to get the results was stressful.  Did I have cancer?  What would it mean?  How would I handle it?  There was a part of me that kept thinking this would be just like "Vilma luck," to finally lose the weight only to get cancer.  It was that unknown factor again that worsened my struggles. 

To top it off, it’s always hard to stay on a healthy eating plan during the holidays when everybody seems to celebrate with food.  Everywhere I went, there they were, my special favorites in front of me:  pastries and cakes.  Around Christmas, I went to the gym and by the front door they had set up a big table with lots of goodies:  a big assortment of pastries from the local bakery!  The goodies were complimentary to anyone who wanted to help themselves.  At the gym of all places!  Ugh!  When I’m struggling, it’s nearly impossible for me to turn away from these temptations.

There were other negatives that happened in 2016, but these were the worst of the bunch.  The result was a lot of struggling all year long and I’m still struggling to get back on track today.  I’m doing better now, but it’s been slow getting back on track.

So I say good riddance to 2016 and I hope 2017 is better.  It’s funny how the only thing that changes from the end of one year to the beginning of another is just the calendar, but we seem to view the new year as a reset button to start fresh.  As if everything is going to be all right now that the calendar flipped to a new year.  Many people set New Year’s resolutions, a list of things they want to accomplish during the next 12 months.  I used to make resolutions, too, but they never lasted long.  By the end of February, I pretty much had forgotten the resolve I felt on January 1 when I made up that list.  Consequently, some years ago I stopped bothering to come up with resolutions that would never materialize.  Sometimes I’ll find an old resolutions list somewhere, such as tucked away inside a book, and it becomes proof that I didn’t accomplish much on that list even years later.  Talk about depressing!  It’s ironic that my list always showed the #1 resolution to lose weight and only after I stopped making resolutions did I accomplish that task.

I see it at the gym, too.  Every single year the memberships increase exponentially, to the point where the gym gets so crowded that I have to wait to use the machines or the classes get full.  The extra memberships affect everything:  the parking lot, the showers, the toilets, the lockers available, and the workout floor.  It’s annoying but I don’t really worry about it because I know that by March, the number of people who’ll keep going to the gym on a regular basis tapers off considerably.  By July or August, the gym is virtually empty.  Of course, there’s always the rush hour throughout the year during early mornings and early evenings which accommodate working folk, but even these rushes become less crowded as the year plods along. 

The only difference for me these days is that I recognize when I’m using food to cope with something negative in my life and I can eventually get back on my journey because I understand my behavior.  Eventually.  I think there’s a part of me that screams, “I worked WAY TOO HARD to get here!  I’m not going to blow it now!” that tries to get me back on track at some point, all the while the strongest part of me wants to feel better by consuming certain foods.  Sometimes it’s sheer will power and repeatedly shooting down those cravings in my head with knuckle-gnawing intensity that allows me to get back on track.  It’s a personal battle between what my body is craving and what my brain KNOWS I can’t have/shouldn’t have and, frankly, don’t need.  If only the two (my brain and my body) were in sync, I’d be just fine.  It’s a battle of wills and I only succeed when the logical part of me wins over the emotional side, when I can finally be a good parent to myself.  It’s a simple concept, but almost impossible to apply when I’m dealing with negative emotions.  I used to tell my friends that the only time I did well on my eating was when I was in love and then I’d add, “Obviously, I haven’t been in love in many, many years!”  When I’m happy, I do really well.  Unfortunately, life always seems to throw things for me to deal with and it is these times that I struggle. 

The reason I’m posting this particular topic now is that many people have told me how they give up because they lose their way when life gets difficult.  By the time the bad thing is resolved, they already gave up on themselves.  It becomes the “what’s the point” attitude when things are difficult.  I understand it perfectly because that was how the old me lived.  The new me at least tries to keep doing better every day, even during the worst struggling I’m experiencing at that particular time.  There's no more asking myself what the point is.  I know what the point is.  I've been asked many times how I deal with life's problems, and unfortunately, I don’t have the answer.  The only thing I can do is share my personal struggles to prove that we all go through it whether people talk about it or not.  And it doesn't matter what someone else thinks about how you should be feeling.  No one is in your head, no one is living in your skin.  The important thing, in my opinion, is to not give up on ourselves.  Even when we falter because life is presently difficult, we need to take care of ourselves because life will get better at some point.  That’s what I’m trying to do now:  hang on until things are better.

So…I have great hopes for 2017!!!  We'll see in one year whether I was right.