low

dear world,
what the heck

I think sometimes this is pointless. I can't get a tattoo on my hand that says "Drop It!" to remind me not to eat something. I just need to quit buying the mini chocoloate mini wheats, don't I? But every once in a while one of them has that tiny creamy chocolately delicious center. It's like winning a little mini wheat lottery.

Even with a psychotherapist, they wouldn't be there holding my hand. Nobody would be there with me saying, "really lauren put down that ___________________ ." You know what? I'd hate them. Please I really hate anybody telling me what not to eat or what to eat or reminding me how to eat. I have wow, some anger there. Woah. Maybe that will help if I blog about it? Ugh. Blogging feels so cheap, like I'm asking for attention. What I hope is one day someone will see something and go "Hey you know what worked for me?" and that will be it for me too.

So here goes: Anger related to being told how/what/not to eat. People judged my childish pudge. I'm not going to name names. Other people before me felt that my body was not up to their standards of how I should look and they gave me that, so forever after I have been seeking to look a certain way. Is it still in order to please them? They're like, far away or dead, those people. Heaven only knows how that changed me. And if you feel it was you, please please I do not want an apology and do not bother to explain, because really what would be the point? I wouldn't honestly believe it anyway. I seriously only think a lot of people apologize to make themselves feel better. I might have anger about that too, actually and I'm not planning to go there now, because honestly, it's not about me.

I'm not eating horribly unhealthy things. I'm making my own food on the stove with fresh vegetables, I made this yummy parsnip pudding, they are surprisingly sweet and probably not good for me, but compared to some of the other things out there, how not-good could they be? They have fiber! I made my own hummus out of chickpeas. I'm not afraid to log and journal and every thing I eat can be listed. I never ever eat at a fast food McPlace. When we went to Applebee's for lunch the other day I had vegetables and a little steak and, well, I did have the garlic potatoes but hey, whatever, probably closer to actual food than an order of fries, right? I just do not know. Even if I do spend time thinking how virtuous I am that I do not eat out every day, that I do usually stick to my program, hell I still feel like I'm supposed to be in Foodoholic's Anonymous.

What if I'm supposed to be low carb., can I do that? What's the trick? How do people know how many carbs to eat a day without doing anything gimmicky or unhealthy?
What if I'm supposed to be fat?
What if I were to commit to some kind of regular bed-time schedule. How would I do that anyway with a teenager watching TV in the next room?
Is my sleep schedule somehow to blame?
Why do I have such a hard time committing to things that might be good for me? Why do I prefer to stay up and read blogs and books and magazines, or to talk with J. instead of going to bed at a decent hour?

Okay here is what I think. I'm asking all these questions because right I'm making an honest effort to stick to the Weight Watchers plan. Because that is what I know, since 6th grade, Weight Watchers has been my idea of how to do this, which in the past 10 years I didn't do because I or whoever else was in charge of the money never wanted to spend the money. Well okay so I gave myself enough dollars of my income tax refund to spend it on myself, in the effort to improve and make me a better mom/friend/human. And guess what? I am really making an honest effort and unlike last summer where the "other" WW plan worked somewhat, on the Points Plus plan nothing is happening. At first I thought that really watching what I ate would work. Then this week I really got back on the bandwagon and started exercising and sweating. And I really do like it. Except for today, the kids came home at 8AM when their dad dropped them off and I lay down with them on the couch. I fell asleep because they were watching something colossally boring (and yet still vaguely fascinating because they have ballistic-gel and skeleton models AND pig carcasses, that they slash up with swords) about which bad-guy in history would win against some other bad-guy. For example, a Ninja versus a Spartan. A Pirate vs. a Knight. I woke up feeling like the pirate and the ninja and the spartan and the knight took turns whacking me in the neck. So today I did no exercise, I just hunched around the house, wheeling completely around when I needed to look at someone, when usually I would just turn my head. I heated up a warm-it-up thingy in the microwave made of cherry pits in a green flannel tube. It's a lovely invention and I have no idea where I got it, but it didn't help this time. Getting a hug hurts. Having a helpful boy offer to rub my neck hurts. Sitting here hurts. Laying down hurts.

So, dear world. I am wondering, what am I really supposed to do?