My weekly weigh-in on Monday was not great. Although this is not a huge amount, I gained two pounds. Boo. I have been slacking off in logging in my food and I need to turn that around. I've also not exercised as much as I would like. I've still got my Fitbit on, so you can see my miles and steps in my Twitter-feed on the right side of the screen. Some days it was still 10,000 steps or more a day and other days ... not so much. Powering through though. I'm not going to beat myself up over not being perfect.
During class, we did talk about nutrition after the bariatric surgery but we also spent some time talking about anger. One of the things I love about the pre-op classes through Kaiser is that we're not just going over the semantics of the surgery. While that is important, it's equally as important that we deal with the emotions behind overeating. I know the surgery is just a tool and it is wise for me to always remember that. While another classmate was reading a section on anger out for us all to follow along, something triggered memories in the words:
- Anger is a warning signal that my boundaries (physical, emotional, intellectual, etc.) have been transgressed and that something needs to be done.
- Anger is an emotional response to internal and/or external conflict.
- I may have been taught that to feel anger makes me a bad person.
- Anger is a survival-based emotional response that can be recognized, modulated, and constructively used to deal with internal and external conflict.
The memories that were popping up for me were from when I was a kid and I was being physically abused. I didn't go to anger ... I went to fear. Each and every time it was about fear. In fact, I can't even remember to this day going to the place of anger when it came to all of that. Those are the same feelings I had when I was raped at 13. I have never gone to that place of anger about any of that. I lived in fear and worry. After the reading in class had stopped, our facilitator asked if we had questions or comments and I couldn't help but raise my hand to express what was going on for me internally. As I was talking, it made perfect sense that I went to food to help me escape. Where does a child go when they experience those sorts of things when there is nowhere to run and no one to tell? Of course there were people around me that could have helped, but I guess not in my fragile mind. Instead, I crawled inside of myself and escaped to a world of cookies, ice cream, donuts and really anything else that could help me not feel. If it wasn't food, then it became other outlets later in life, like relationships with men I should have never been with. My God, when I think about the stupid stuff I did with men, I'm amazed I was never hurt. Of course, I hurt myself emotionally, but I think you know what I mean. If it wasn't that, then it was back to the food again until I was in a never ending cycle.
Oh man, this is hard. Maybe this has something to do with me being buried in work this week, not posting here, being lax on logging my food in and not getting as much exercise in. That thought just hit me like a ton of bricks ... maybe it all relates. Don't get me wrong, I'm really busy this time of year at my job but I have to be honest with myself and ponder whether I'm escaping. Even though all of that has gone on, I am in a really good place today and I'm definitely grateful for that. My mom is coming over later so we can have a little barbecue. It's an act of God for sure that we can even have a relationship today, especially as loving and wonderful as it is now. It's totally the opposite of what it used to be and that is a miracle.
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