If you have issues, or baggage, you may be offended by what you read here. I work through my self loathing of my own fat, and my own fat issues, and I’m told this comes across as loathing all fat people. That is simply not the case.

Here I talk about my issues and my findings, without political correctness. I am not concerned with your issues, or your baggage, or what you may take from this. The title is "My Journey".

This blog is not meant to inspire anyone. I take no responsibility for what you take away from here. You are here as a guest into my inner thoughts.


Friday, July 25, 2008

Rough Night

Man, I slept rough last night. Tossed and turned and obsessed.

But posting on WW I realized why I'm struggling so badly with this.

To give up the scale is a leap of faith. Faith in myself. Do I have what it takes to do this? Can I control my weight without the scale controlling it for me? Do I have the faith in myself to give up the scale?

Faith. Not something I have a lot of these days in other areas. Haven't had to apply it to myself like this before. It's a new concept. Not one I'm entirely comfortable with. Blind belief. It's the blind part I'm having problems with I think.

I know I have the tools. I know that I know what to do. I know what I need to move and how I need to eat and I know how many workouts I need to do. I can still track my AP, my nutrition and my measurements. All I would be giving up is one appliance. One tool out of the toolbox. Just one.

But it's the most important one of my journey so far. The one that has kept me going and kept me motivated and made me mad enough to kick my own ass into gear and rewarded me when I worked hard.

... omg. It's my mother. Seriously. It's the mother I didn't have growing up. What kind of Freudian sick bitch am I???????????????????????????? Why am I obsessed with the way the scale makes me feel??? Why do I work so hard to please it and stress at the thought of giving it up? Because it tells me when I'm having good behaviour and it gently scolds me when I'm not. It doesn't beat hell out of me, it just points out the error of my ways and sits back quietly without judging. And when I have good behaviour it quietly gives me my kudos and sits back and lets me celebrate. And the thought of giving up one of the healthy responses in my life scares me back to being a little kid. Except that it's not the scale reacting unhealthy, it's me obsessing over it's feedback.

Okay, I'm seriously fucked up. This took a bizarre turn, didn't it?? Because my childhood was so traumatizing and abusive I turn to anyone and anything, including inanimate objects for unconditional, non-judgmental feedback???

I mean, it's weird the panic I feel at the thought of giving up the number on the scale, but seriously??? Why did my fingers type this? Where did it come from? Is my subconcious thinking up excuses to NOT give it up? Or is this real in my mind? It just sounds so bizarre... and CRAZY.

Whoa. I need to think further on this.

I don't think I'll be posting this on the WW site. They really WILL think I need therapy. They don't know me and my ways of working things out. I just need to yatter it out, sort it, deal with it, and fold it neatly back away in a safe place.

Bear with my insanity, folks... I promise it won't last. I'm just figuring my way through, and you happen to be the recipients of my inner chatter.