A Love Letter

I forgive you.

I forgive you for hating me for being imperfect. I forgive you for always doubting me. I forgive you for the harm you have done to me over the years. I forgive you for expecting me to achieve the unattainable and then punishing me when I fail. I forgive you for hiding behind a mask, even from me. I forgive you for not understanding why so many people love me. I forgive you for expecting so much of me that you never saw my accomplishments. I forgive you for not understanding my true worth. I forgive you for telling me every day that I’m fat, and that I’m not worthy of love.

I forgive you for these things because I know that you will not do them anymore. I know this because I am not going to let you do them anymore. From now on, we will work together. We will take care of ourselves, not in order to change ourselves to fit some ideal, but because we deserve it. We deserve to have a rich, full life. We deserve to cast off the shallow; the false and temporary pleasures; the harmful vices. We deserve real joy; sustainable pleasure; enriching experiences. We deserve love.

I promise to take care of you for as long as I live. I promise to do all I can to provide you with a life you love. I promise to do all I can to keep you healthy and safe. I love you, and I now realize that you are the most important person in my life. I have never treated you like you are important, and in return you have never loved me. I see now how important you are. Without you, I am literally nothing.

Because you are me. And I forgive you. Now let’s move forward.

Lies

Jenny Lawson (aka The Bloggess) said it best. Depression lies.

“It’s hopeless. It will never get better.”

“You have become a burden to everyone you love. They would be better off without you.”

“You should be able to snap out of this. Why don’t you? What is wrong with you? You are really pathetic, you should give up now.”

“If this is how life is going to be, do you really want to keep on?”

“There is no use trying. You are just going to fail again and again. It’s better to just learn to live with being miserable.”

“Nobody understands.”

All lies. But oh, they are so convincing.

I have been fighting depression for months now. It has taken its toll on me and on my loved ones. Depression is a real monster because it uses your brain’s logical and rational side to make things worse. It tells you that you should be able to be happy; that it is your fault for being weak; that it’s all just something you’ve made up and you are less of a person for not being able to overcome it.

It causes you to lash out at those who love you and only want to help. It makes you feel ashamed. You don’t want to tell people you are depressed, yet you want them to understand why you are behaving so very unlike yourself.

For me, the worst part is that those who know me know that I have a beautiful life. I mean yeah, I’m not wealthy. I have money problems. I have been dealing with the serious illness of two loved ones. But as a whole, my life is really, really full of love and beauty. And that makes the shame and guilt about depression so much worse.

“What the hell do you have to be sad about? You are completely broken and worthless if you can’t be happy with this life.”

Some of you may be confused, because you have seen me in the past few months, and I’ve seemed just fine. Laughing, smiling, making jokes, being loving and affectionate. And those things were not faked; I have felt happiness, love, affection; even joy and bliss. Being depressed doesn’t always put one in a state of constant sadness. It manifests itself in many ways, and isn’t always on the surface. You probably interact with many depressed people daily and have no idea. Depression can hide. But it’s still there, waiting to remind you that the joy you just felt is fleeting.

“Those moments aren’t real life. Real life is struggle and pain. The fleeting moments of joy are just there to remind you of what you can’t really have, ever.”

Well-meaning friends and loved ones try to help. They suggest exercise, diet changes, pharmaceuticals, therapy. They desperately and lovingly ask “What is it going to take?”

The problem is that when depression has you in its clutches, it holds your motivation hostage. And it is a powerful captor. You just don’t have the drive, energy, or even the desire to get better. You start to feel angry, because part of you wants to want to get better. But you just can’t gather the energy to give a damn. You feel like you owe it to your loved ones to try. But you just can’t. Because you don’t feel like you owe it to yourself to try.

“Because you are worthless.”

But the important thing to remember is this:

DEPRESSION LIES.

I am trying to recover. I think I must be starting to recover, because my motivation is beginning to return. I’m getting back to the gym. I’m paying attention to what foods I’m putting in my body. I’m going out and being social.

I’m blogging again.

But I’m still struggling. I’m still fighting to keep that inner voice alive that says No, that is a lie. I will not accept that. I’m still weak and prone to believe the lies. I’m still having a lot of sadness and rage and anxiety and hopelessness. But I am fighting it. I am fighting it now, and that is a step forward.

Thank you to all those who have suffered through this with me. I am sorry that I don’t always have the ability to show you how much you really mean to me. My depression lies to you, too. Thank you for staying by my side, and not believing the lies. I love you.

Quinoa With Sweet Potatoes, Chick Peas, Kale, et al. Recipe to Die For.

So, tonight I made a crazy awesome dinner that was super duper packed with all kinds of crazy nutrients and yumminess. This was something I came up with on my own, while daydreaming at work, so I'm posting the recipe and how I did it, not only for your benefit, but also so I can come back to this and recreate it.

Quinoa With Sweet Potatoes, Chick Peas, Kale, et al.

Ingredients, in no logical order:

Quinoa (I used a half cup dry tonight because it's what I had, but I would probably double that)
Vegetable broth (twice as much as your amount of quinoa)
1 sweet potato
1 onion, diced
2 cloves garlic
1 can chickpeas (the original intent was to use black beans, though, and I think that would be marvelous)
A few handfuls of chopped kale
Handful of cilantro
Chipotle chile powder
Olive oil
Farm-fresh eggs (1 per serving)

Directions:

Dice sweet potato into small cubes. Put into bowl and toss with olive oil , some salt, and a generous amount of chipotle chile powder. Heat a small amount of olive oil in a pan and sautee on medium-high until crisp on the outside and tender on the inside.

While the potato is cooking, sautee the onion and kale in oil with a little salt until the onion is soft and the kale is bright green. Add chopped garlic and a bit more chipotle powder. Cook until garlic is fragrant and add quinoa and vegetable broth. Cover and cook until quinoa is done (when you can see the little curly-q thingies it releases).

When potatoes are almost done, pour in a splash of broth and add chick peas (or black beans). Cook until heated through. Toss together with onion, kale, and quinoa mixture and keep warm.

Fry one egg per serving in olive oil. I like the yolks a little runny, but cook to your own preference. Salt and pepper the egg as it cooks.

Put the quinoa mixture into serving bowls and place an egg on top. Sprinkle liberally with chopped fresh cilantro and serve.

Haunted House Review! Mad House - Lebanon, TN

It's October! You know what that means. HAUNTED HOUSE REVIEWS!

The first haunted house Ted and I went to this year was Mad House in Lebanon, TN. It's located in an old warehouse in a creepy area near the hospital. Driving up to it in a creepy area was a very nice start.

For your information, they only take cash; so don't arrive with only plastic to use, because you'll have to drive a bit to get to a cash machine. Admission is reasonable; $15 per person, but you can print a $2 coupon from their website and get an easy discount.

As Ted and I approached the entrance, we heard the typical loud noises and screams of teenage girls from inside the attraction. This actually tells me nothing about how the attraction will be, because I've found that teenage girls will scream at pretty much anything. So the worthiness of the venue remained to be seen.

The greeter was a fun guy. Very amusing and kept in character. He didn't try to do any preliminary scares, or be particularly creepy; he was mainly trying to set a jovial mood for the frights to follow. He responded well to our banter, which was the first sign to me that this was going to be a fun trip.

The attraction itself was populated with the usual costumed actors hiding in the dark, jumping out to get a scare. The sets were fun. There was some nicely crafted gore and well-used strobe lighting to prevent the customers from having time to acclimate themselves to night vision.

Aside from the cheap startle effects, there were some really fun audience participation scenes. The "inmates" interact with those on the tour, talk, involve you in the scenes, and banter with you to the point that you feel like you are a part of the attraction. They are not merely reciting lines, but rather are playing a character, and they have fun exchanges and are able to respond well to unexpected quips while remaining in character. They aren't at all derailed by someone who doesn't respond with a typical scream or flight response. They take the opportunity to create a fun and funny macabre scene, and they seem to enjoy the weirdos like Ted and me who prod extreme audience interaction.

I rate Mad House with a thumbs up. I got a few good startles, it was lots of fun, and the actors are great at adapting to what their audience wants. Good value: highly recommended!

The Power of a Photograph

Lately I haven't done a lot of posting. When things are going well, and I'm feeling good, I'm often not inspired to post. I know I should post about the good along with the bad, but when I'm in the good, I want to just enjoy the good; I don't want to sit and type about it.

For the past few weeks, I've been eating better. I've still been exercising. I've been feeling better in my skin and starting to actually have some self confidence again. Things have been so wonderful.

And it was all shot to hell by a well-meaning acquaintance who posted some photos that made me want to kill myself.

Don't worry. I'm not going to do anything stupid. I've been through this enough times to know it will pass.

The photos were from a big gathering I attended last weekend. It was a camping weekend, and I had such a wonderful time, I don't even know how to describe it. I had fun; I made friends; I enjoyed spending the weekend with someone who is very dear to me; I felt healthy and happy. It was such a nice escape.

Tonight, one of those new friends posted to Facebook some photos she took. I was devastated. I knew that I was the largest person there; but I think I had forgotten just how large I am. I'm easily twice the size of most of the people who were there. Three times some of them.

I know I'm overweight. But I just don't think of myself as being as horribly, unreasonably fat as the woman I saw in those pictures. When I'm confronted with that reality, it hurts a lot. I don't want anyone to see me. I don't want to leave the house tomorrow. Or ever again. I truly want to disappear. I can't stop crying. I just want to hide because I'm so ashamed. More than hide; I want to disappear.

I was starting to feel like I had made enough progress that I was finally beginning to look normal. I didn't feel like the fat girl everyone likes because she's funny. Then I saw those pictures and realized that I'm still her. I'm still the fat girl no one would like without the overwhelming, always-on-stage personality. I still have to be a clown in order to be invisible.

I know it will pass. But right now, I hate me so much.

A Real Conversation

The following has nothing to do with fitness or weight loss. Unless you are interested in the nutrition content of dead cats. But if that is the case, you agree with my coworker and therefore you are wrong.

Real conversation between my coworker and me:

Me: So [name withheld] was in the break room talking to a vendor.

Coworker: eh?

Me: He looked at the coolers and asked if they had any bigger ones, or if the product would go in there.

Then they talked about order sizes, how many employees we have, blah blah blah

What on earth could they be ordering that would have to stay in the coolers?

Coworker: Dead cats.

Me: Yeah, but one dead cat for each employee would be enough. They were talking about recurring orders. 

Coworker: Well, once you eat one cat you eventually run out.

Me: You eat them? Gross.

Coworker: Yes. We should be thankful the company is providing us lunch.

Me: Everyone knows what you do with dead cats is turn them inside out so you have a hat that's soft and furry on the inside.

Coworker: Nope. I just eat them.

Me: Well that's wasteful.

Coworker: I eat it all, except for the bones, and I use those for voodoo rituals.

Me: The FSM doesn't recognize voodoo.

Coworker: The claws sometimes hurt when they come out the other end.

Me: I can imagine. If you use it for a hat, the claws make good backscratchers.

Coworker: hm, that's a good idea.

Me: Of course it's a good idea.

Revamping the Reward System

My reward system is not working. So I'm revamping it.

Starting now, my tattoos and piercings are no longer tied to my weight loss goals. I'm just getting them whenever I damn well please. They have nothing to do with weight loss and everything to do with expressing myself and I'm tired of repressing that just because I'm struggling with the extra pounds.

The photoshoot and wedding dress trip rewards remain in tact; they are directly related to weight loss because they will showcase my hard work. So I'm not giving up; just rethinking.

So on the topic of piercings, I recently got a new one.

So I get asked the inevitable question, "Did it hurt?"

For those of you who do not do piercings, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. They all hurt. Sometimes the actual needle stick isn't so bad; but putting the jewelry into freshly wounded skin always hurts.

"Well, sometimes when I ask that question people say no."

When they say "no," they don't really mean no. When you get a piercing, all the endorphines released by your brain cause you to forget just how much it hurt. Let me explain what the answers really mean.

When a piercing enthusiast says this:	What they really mean is this.
No, it didn’t hurt at all.	Someone stabbed me with a needle. Yes it fucking hurt. But not bad enough that I wouldn’t do it again right now, because LOOK AT THIS IT’S AWESOME.
Not as bad as I expected.	Do you see where this is? Give that area on yourself a little pinch. Sensitive, isn’t it? Now imagine sticking a needle through it. What you’re imagining? It’s like that.
This one hurt a little bit.	Yeah, this one was a motherfucker.
Yeah, it hurt pretty bad.	This one felt like they stabbed me with a splintered wedge of wood dripping with acid. And then set me on fire.

Pin-up Party

My friend and coworker Megan sent me an email a couple of weeks ago inviting me to go with her to Bettina May's Pinup Class. I was apprehensive at first, because Megan is what is commonly referred to as "DROP DEAD FREAKING GORGEOUS," and I don't really quite measure up to her. But she is also fun, smart, funny, and awesome, so I figured it will be a great time, and I don't have to show anyone the photos when we're done, so why not have a fun girls' day out?

My greatest concern, of course, was my body. Also of concern, and almost as grave, was my hair. My hair is not long; it does not fall in beautiful waves; it is not even symmetrical. Pinup hair is all the things mine isn't. 

Pinup hair:


My hair:
So naturally I was curious as to how they were going to style it.

But I went. Ted and I went shopping and he picked out a lovely dress for me; I bought body-shaping pantyhose and high heels with a bow on the toe, and waited for the big day.

It was awesome. Bettina told us some about pinup style and history, and taught us how to do makeup and hair. She and her assistant set our hair in hot rollers (though the preferred pinup method, if you have time, is to do an overnight wet-to-dry set), and we did our own makeup and put on our outfits. Then they styled our hair (they did an amazing job with mine!), and we did the photoshoots. They really did make us feel beautiful. And every woman there was beautiful. And it was an awesome experience that we all deserved. We were all in front of the camera feeling like:

Then when all the excitement began to settle down, and Bettina handed me the cd with my photos on it, I began to fear that I had actually looked like:

I was afraid that I would get home, look at the photos, and sob uncontrollably for the rest of the evening.

But what I actually wound up looking like was this:

So not so bad. I'm glad I went.

Dinner

So today I was kind of snacky all day. I didn't have a lot of calories left for dinner. I wanted something tasty, so I took Ted's recipe for Jamaican escovitch and trimmed calories, fat, and carbs from it. I also stole his photo.

Slimmed-down Jamaican Escovitch

4 Servings

per serving:

Calories: 157

Fat: 2g

Carbs: 7g

Protein: 28g

4 Flounder filets

1 Large onion

1 Medium carrot

1 Habanero pepper (or Scotch Bonnet, if you can find one), seeds removed and sliced into thin strips

1 tsp minced garlic

1 Bay leaf

1/2 tsp dried thyme

1 tsp Allspice berries

1/4 tsp crushed red pepper

2 tsp salt

2 tsp freshly ground black pepper

1/2 cup malt vinegar

1/8 cup water

1 lime, cut into wedges

1 Tbsp fresh lemon juice

Heat a stainless steel saucepan over medium low heat. Briefly remove from heat and spray with cooking spray (I used the olive oil kind). Add onion, carrot, habanero, and garlic; heat for about a minute, then add the bay leaf, thyme, allspice, crushed pepper, salt, and pepper.
Sweat for about 5 minutes, stirring, or until the onion is soft and translucent. You may need to spray with additional cooking spray to keep moist.

Add the vinegar, water and lemon juice, stirring well. Bring to a gentle boil. Boil briefly to let the sauce reduce a little. Cover the pan and simmer for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, or until the vegetables are tender.

Wash fish thoroughly in water with lime or lemon juice added. Dry thoroughly.

Cover a baking sheet with aluminum foil and spray with cooking spray. Place the fish on the foil and salt and pepper to taste. Cover with aluminum foil and bake in preheated 400 degree oven for 18 minutes, or until fish flakes easily with fork.

Spoon the hot vegetables and sauce over the fish and serve right away with lime wedges. This is also good the next day as a cold lunch (and if you leave it cold, your coworkers won't kill you for making the office smell like fish).

Stepping Forward, Stumbling Back

It's hard to gauge how well I'm doing.

On the one hand, I'm staying within my calorie range most days. I'm also working out regularly, and additionally doing little fun things that are active (I went to a line-dancing class this evening; it was fun!). Everything about my lifestyle has improved. I'm eating fewer calories; the calories I do consume are mostly healthy, nutritious calories; I'm becoming more active; I'm drinking far less alcohol; I've almost completely cut out diet sodas; I've started drinking green tea. Heck, it doesn't have anything to do with fitness or weight loss, but I've even stopped biting my nails.

On the other hand, I still have days and short strings of days where I completely lose my give-a-damn, and fall right back into my old habits. Weekends are the worst; I think it is because I don't have a weekend routine. I've fit my healthy eating and exercise into my work days, and I have figured out how to maintain that. But on weekends, where things are happening spontaneously and I'm doing something different all the time and I'm unprepared for half of what happens, I wind up eating fast food. Or going to a nice sit-down dinner out. Or drinking too much scotch and cider (Scotch with a cider chaser; not mixed together. I do have standards.). And these days are affecting my progress. That is frustrating.

I truly want to focus on what I'm doing right. I want to love myself for all the hard work and sacrifice I have done lately. I want to be proud of myself. But my setbacks keep me from feeling that way. Instead of feeling like a success for the five days I was strictly on-plan, I feel like a failure for the long weekend where I completely blew it. I just can't seem to cut myself a break.

Part of this whole ordeal is learning to give a damn about myself. I'm learning more about what that means every day. I'm not there yet; but it's getting closer. I have proud moments and little glimpses of progress I have made. The good is beginning to outweigh the bad, and if that trend continues, I may actually make it this time.

I want to thank all of you. Julia and Ted have been absolutely wonderful and so incredibly supportive through all my ups and downs. SGT Ken and Amber and all the instructors at START Fitness have done so much to help me learn how to push my body and become stronger. My precious friends, Suzan, Gayle, Adam, all my FB Fit Before the World Ends friends, and many others have been there for me and I couldn't have come this far without you. Thank you so much for listening, laughing, encouraging, mocking, and pushing me. We still have a long way to go.

Warning: You Don't Want to Read This Post

You've been warned.

First, I'd like to say that I am grateful to live in the modern world, where I have options for when it is my "ladies time," and I don't have to go shear a sheep or just sit in my room in a puddle of my own uterus until it is over. Seriously, I'm happy for that.

But honestly. Feminine products manufacturers, I'm talking to you. I mean, seriously? Your target consumer group consists of women who are bloated, hormonal, and bleeding out of parts of their body that usually make them very happy. Do you really have to add so much additional complication?

I don't need wings. Not on the front, the middle, or the back of my feminine products. I'm not taking flying lessons; I just need a barrier between my unstable uterus and my underwear. The last thing I want to worry about is getting the little sticky sides wrapped around the crotch of my panties while keeping them from sticking to themselves when I'm trying to discreetly change the sheets in the women's bathroom of a fancy restaurant. Just please give me a strip of absorbent fabric to lay across the crotch of my panties. That doesn't seem like too much to ask.

You cannot say you were not warned.

It Has to Work for Me

Okay, I'm going to put this out there and I'd like to know what y'all think.

If you've been following the blog lately, you'll know I've had a few off days because of Christmas and New Year, and I've jumped right back on plan after both those events. Even with the lapses, I've lost weight since I started really counting calories in December. I'll post my official weigh-in tomorrow.

Anyway, I expect to have a lot of weeks where I have one day where I go over - not really a "free day" where I pay no attention whatsoever, but a day where I may have a heavy dinner or a few more drinks than the plan allows. For example, this Saturday night is Whiskey Club. My plan is to eat a light, sensible, healthy breakfast and lunch, and enjoy the food and drink at the gathering. Sampling whiskey and eating snacks will probably take me over on calories for the day. Could I make a sacrifice and not participate in the tasting? Sure. Am I willing to make that sacrifice? I'm not sure; I don't think so. Not yet, anyway. I am making conscious sacrifices every day. I am learning from them and growing from them. But that doesn't mean I have to sacrifice every single pleasure in my life that involves calories. If this is going to be long-term, then there will have to be exceptions. There will have to be variety, joy, and fun.

My thoughts are that this keeps me from quitting altogether, and it's still a lot better than I was doing before. I expect this to continue to result in a downward trend on the scale, though it might not be the two pounds a week that my actual to-the-letter-plan is geared for.

I'm actually making it to the gym a lot more, and mostly doing pretty intense workouts. Zombiefit and Crossfit are really tough, almost as tough as boot camp (though the workouts are shorter, so still not as intense). The Zumba classes aren't all that hard, but it's an extra hour of moderate cardio, and that should be at least a booster.

Thoughts?

The Worst is Behind Me (I Hope)

"Remember the race is not always won by the swift nor the conflict by the strong ... but if you have money to wager put it on the fast strong guy." -Zacharia TeKawaare

I haven't been the fast strong guy lately. But I have been determined.

Christmas and New Year's were a couple of tough obstacles in my nutrition revamp, but I pushed through and did not let them derail me. I had two out-of-range days for Christmas, and three for New Year's. After each, I jumped right back on and stayed on track. I have had three successful days in a row. I'm learning every day about what foods are wasted calories, and what foods contribute to long-term satisfaction and good nutrition. I'm also learning what I am willing to sacrifice, and what I am not willing to sacrifice. For those things that I am not willing to give up, I plan. If my plan does not allow for those things, I either rework it or I forego that particular vice for the day, with the knowledge that I can start again tomorrow, and make sure it fits within my plan.

Nothing is forbidden; nothing is required. This is not about anyone else's idea of what I should or should not be eating or drinking. It is about me learning what works for me.

I am going to give myself another week on my plan before I report any weigh-ins. As I said, Christmas and New Year's threw me off, so I'm going to give myself a chance to even out before I start reporting progress. I also need a new scale, as my current one seems to be behaving oddly.

I haven't been very funny lately. For that I apologize. I've been pretty focused on getting my act together, and it really hasn't lent itself to comedy. I will figure out a remedy to that soon.

On a Roll

And I don't mean a cinnamon roll.

I have remained steadfast with staying within my calorie range. I have had two more successful days since my last post, and I'm on track for another successful day today. This is a good trend.

Now, just because I have been able to maintain this does not mean it has been easy. Yesterday after work I wanted nothing more than to dive face-first into a vat of dry martini. I did have a couple of martinis; but I had the calories planned for them and I did not overindulge. I'm finding that with a little creativity, I'm able to eat really great stuff and still stay in my range. Last night Ted and I made escovitch, which is a wonderful jamaican spicy fish dish, and it was amazing.

We also did the Zombie Fit workout of the day, which was kind of brutal. It consisted of some cardio to warm up, repetitions of circuits for time, and cardio to finish off. When all was said and done, we wound up doing:

• 5 min run/bike
• 30 squats
• 30 push-ups
• 30 sit-ups
• 30 pull-ups
• 30 8-count bodybuilders (which include a push-up, bringing that total to 60)
• 75 lunges each leg
• 25 burpees
• 300m jogging

My thighs caught fire at one point.

It's Not the Same Thing

There is a difference between being "in control" and being "perfect."

Since my last blog post, I have been in control. I have not been perfect; but that is okay.

I have stayed within my calorie range all but two days since my last blog post. Those two days were Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. On those days, I made a conscious decision to enjoy food and drink with my family. I do not regret it.

I didn't pig out as heavily as I normally do during the holidays, but there's only so much you can manage with portion control when your meal consists of country ham, fried potatoes, scrambled eggs, big fluffy biscuits, and sausage gravy. Oh, and orange juice to drink. Even with small portions, which I did observe, that was a lot of calories. And worth every bite.

Christmas day was not quite as bad, but we did go have Asian food, and I had wine that evening. It was a nice, relaxing holiday, and I feel good about jumping right back on track Monday morning. On Monday I ate right in the middle of my calorie range. So, like I said, I'm in control.

The Christmas holiday did mess up my workout schedule, but Ted and I plan on going to the gym in the morning and doing a good workout. I'm going to try to fit in some extra cardio this week to compensate for my two high calorie days.

It feels so good to be in charge of my body for a change.

Coming Together - Maybe

It feels like everything is starting to come together.

I know; you have all read this from me before. I'm working out hard, I'm getting my eating under control, blah blah blah, then bam, I'm back on here whining about eating too many damn cheeseburgers. Why should you think it's going to be any different this time?

Well, the truth is, you shouldn't. But I'm hoping to surprise you.

So what is different this time? Well, I had what alcoholics refer to as a "moment of clarity."

It came when I was browsing some friends' photos on the internet. There was a photo of a very fit, healthy, toned woman in one of the photos. In the comments, someone complimented her on what a lovely, lean, strong body she had (it wasn't as weird as it sounds here). The lady commented back that it wasn't easy; she had worked hard and made a lot of sacrifices for that body.

For some reason, that statement made something click. Sacrifices.

All this time, I've been thinking in terms of what I can and can't have. I can't have more calories than my calorie range allows. I can't have all those carbs. I can't have so much fat. Well, a bull-headed woman like me does not like to be told that she can't have or do anything. So something makes me rebel and say LIKE HELL I CAN'T JUST WATCH ME.

But I'll tell you what I can do. I can make conscious decisions to make a sacrifice to further my goal. I can choose to forego something I want. I can take a look at those fried pickles, or that piece of cake, or that pizza, and I can say to myself "If I want to eat that, I can eat it." And then I can remind myself that if I choose to skip it, that is X-number of calories that I do not have to burn off. And I can walk away.

I have gone back to tracking my calories on SparkPeople. Yesterday I stayed within my calorie range, even though I attended an awesome Winter Solstice Bonfire Party at the home of my good friend Gayle. I chose low calorie foods all day, had a piece of tilapia before I left so I wouldn't be starving, and while at the party I drank limited amounts of beer and wine. When I got home and logged the drinks from the party, I saw that I had succeeded. It was awesome.

I am well on the way toward having another successful day. I prepared a healthy breakfast and lunch, and have a light snack ready for when I need it. Dinner will be tilapia again, probably, this time with a side dish of a vegetable or some salad.

As for working out, Ted and I are still doing workouts at the gym. On some days we're doing the Workout of the Day (WoD) from zombiefit.org, and on other days we're doing the WoD from crossfit.com. They are great workouts, and really tough. I'm still having to modify for my knees and my foot, but I'm able to get a really good burn every time.

More soon.

Honesty

Time for some honesty.

I've been lying to myself and others for years now. I have consistently asserted that I want to lose weight "to be healthy," or "so I won't die at 48 like my dad did." I've been saying that for so long, that it's just my automatic canned response now.

But you know what? It's a lie.

The truth is that at my current weight, my life expectancy is reduced by about three years. When I'm faced with the choice between eating a baked chicken breast with steamed green beans for dinner and ordering a pizza, those three years don't seem very important. Honestly, I'll probably be suffering from dementia long before I approach those years (family history, both maternal and paternal), so truly, dying three years sooner would be a gift to those who are stuck taking care of me.

Depressing? Yes. But hey, the truth is the truth. You should know that with a title like "Honesty," anything I write will be dreadful.

So you want to know, honestly, why I want to lose weight?

I want to be pretty. Pretty all over, not just that girl who has a pretty face, too bad she's so fat. I want to look sexy in cute clothes. I want to be attractive in a bikini. I want to be that lady you stare at while she's working out, thinking "damn, look at those muscles!"

I want my daughter to be proud of me when we go places. I want her to be proud of the progress I've made.

I have the most wonderful, kind, loving, precious partner in the world. He deserves a sexy girlfriend. He loves his dumpy girlfriend; but he deserves to have a girlfriend who makes him proud. I want to be her.

It is all superficial. Every bit of it.

So there. That's the truth. I don't really care all that much about my long-term health. I really just want to be attractive. If that makes my weight loss goals less valid, then so be it.

So Close to Quitting

I am so thankful to have a supportive partner.

Today I had a blog post all cooked up in my head about how I was going to just give up. Quit. Throw in the towel. Stick a fork in me, I'm done.

I was going to say that I've been at this since February, and not just half-assed at it, but really working myself to death at boot camp, and all I have to show for it are knees that hurt worse than ever and newly-developed plantar fasciitis. I have lost no weight; I have lost only one clothing size, and that was in the very beginning. I look exactly how I looked when I started, and I am tired, worn down, and just sick to fucking death of killing myself for no results. I can't get my eating under control because I'm like that old drunk who just keeps drinking until he dies. Why doesn't he stop? Because he will never love himself more than he loves alcohol. And that is my relationship with food. Sorry, folks, but I am always going to be fat. I am probably going to die young of a preventable disease because I refuse to change my habits. So I quit. I just fucking goddamn quit.

Then Ted said that he could see a difference. He could feel a difference. I am making progress. And he gave me a kiss and a hug that told me that he means it. And I took the top piece of bread off my Egg McMuffin to cut the carb count in half, and everything was better again.

I'm still very, very frustrated that the weather is cooling down and I can't run. I want to get back out there and do at least some short runs; some drills; something. But I really can't. My foot is a genuine showstopper. I'm still very, very frustrated that I can't do so many exercises properly because of my knee pain. And I'm still very, very frustrated that I can't get my eating right. But I'm no longer ready to give up. I'm going to keep trying, and probably keep failing. But hopefully my failures will become less severe over time. Hopefully I'll get stronger and more resolved. Hopefully, everything will eventually come together.

I'm not going to be in a size 8 by my birthday. But I am going to be healthier by my birthday, and I will be closer to having my shit together.

I'm hoping to be funny again one day, too. Sorry my posts have been so heavy lately. This too shall pass.

Small Town Awesomeness

Last night Ted and I spent the day visiting my family in smalltown Kentucky. We ended the evening with a date to the Wingfield Volunteer Fire Department's Hayride and Haunted House. We've been to a few of the haunted venues around here in Nashville, but this one has quite a reputation in my hometown, so we decided to give it a shot, and support the VFD in the process.

Well, let me tell you, they did not disappoint. Let me preface my review with the explanation that I won't call any haunted house attractions "scary," because to me there is a big difference between being scared and being startled and entertained. But having lots of good startles and entertainment is what makes a good haunted house, in my opinion.

There were not only lots of awesome startles in Wingfield VFD's haunted house, they were also beautifully executed! Their haunted house is considerably lower budget than the big Nashville attractions (it's small town, and a fundraiser, so yeah; they need to be frugal), but what they lacked in special effects and construction, they made up for in enthusiasm and strategy. For example, in one room there were several mannequin heads, made up to look like severed people-heads, but they were obviously plastic. So, no real scare there, right? Just a cheap setup. Until the one on the end, that TOTALLY LOOKED LIKE A MANNEQUIN HEAD, jumps out and screams at you. Dude, that was the coolest lull-you-into-a-false-comfort startle EVER. The live girl's makeup was flawless, and unless you were expecting her, you honestly would have overlooked her as another plastic head. It was a thing of beauty.

There were a lot of other great misdirection startles as well. You walk into a room, see an obvious person ready to jump out to scare you, and POW! Someone comes from a completely different area and startles the living bejesus out of you. I can't say enough about how strategic and well executed this haunted house is.

And even with the limited budget, the special effects were awesome. There was a spinning vortex room that was every bit as dizzying as the one at the high-budget Devil's Dungeon in Nashville. There were lots of loud power tools and sparkly things and unexpected booms; it really was a fun time!

And all this is on top of a fun and whimsical old-fashioned tractor pulled hayride to and from the site. The hayride itself isn't spooked; it's just an opportunity to chat with your fellow haunted house fans as you get to and from the attraction. I haven't been to anything like this in Nashville. It's truly a smalltown charm that is worth the 1 1/2 hour drive to experience.

The Wingfield VFD's Hayride and Haunted House is only $10 for adults, and $5 for kids 12 and under. There is food available for purchase at the firehouse, so get there early and have a chili dog with homemade chili and home-canned hot relish. You should also bring extra cash for tee shirts. I didn't, but I wish I had.

It's a good cause to support and a great attraction. Make the trip and see it. Just be sure to pee before you climb onto the hay. You don't want to pee yourself the first time a misdirection takes you by surprise.

Haunted House Review: Devil's Dungeon

Me: I'm going to write a review for Devil's Dungeon on my blog.

Julia: Be sure to talk about the poop.

So Ted, Julia, Julia's friends Brandon and Dan, and I all went to the Devil's Dungeon haunted house on Friday night. It was a blast.

Devil's Dungeon advertises as "The most controversial haunted house in Nashville!" I suppose it is controversial, if you don't understand what a haunted house is.

As far as entertainment haunts go, though, DD is a very good one. The scenes are creative, the actors are enthusiastic and seem to be having a lot of fun, and there are enough good startles to keep your heartrate up and have you nervous about going around the next corner. There are several startling loud noises, which certainly achieve the objective, but a couple of them lasted a bit long for my taste. I'm not a big fan of deafening noises that will not end.

I'm not going to describe the scenes inside, because I don't want to ruin any surprises for anyone who might want to go, but I will tell you that there are a couple of scenarios that are not for the squeamish. If you are easily offended or unable to understand that it's all pretend and not to be taken seriously, you probably shouldn't go.

I will say that one of the last parts of the house is the maze. The maze seems extremely frustrating at first, but I'll give you a hint. Look at Gumby's shoes. You'll see that it might not be as bad as it seems...

Are you still wondering about the poop comment?

One of the scenes includes a girl locked in a cage, begging you to let her out. She will talk to you (presumably because she is starved for human interaction, being a prisoner in a dungeon and all). Julia was talking to her, and ended the conversation with (paraphrased) "Well, I'd like to stay and try to get you free, but I need to go. I really have to poop."