So, I went to a birthday party this weekend, and of course, everyone has freaking digital cameras. Two days later, there are photos of me online. I look terrible. I mean, I look really terrible. I was under the impression that I looked cute when I left the house: had on a cute dress that nipped in a bit at the waist, high heels. I’d done eye makeup and curled my hair.
But the photos online tell a different story. My problem, you see, is one of perception. Rather than being able to see things as they are, I instead see things as I wish they were, or perhaps as how they once were. I’m not sure what it is, but when I look in the mirror, I don’t see an obese person. I see that when I see photos, but when I actually look in the mirror, that’s not what I see at all. What is this disconnect, between what I think I look like and what I actually look like? And why don’t I see it when I look in the mirror, whereas in photos, it is all too clear? It seems like some sort of neural gap, like a disconnect in the wiring.
So, knowing now how I look, I am forced to take action. Today, I cleaned out the refrigerator. Or course, this was after doing some serious binge eating, but that’s pretty par for the course. I usually do some bingeing before starting a diet.
Last summer, I did a historical presentation on the work of Albert Ellis. He was a funny kind of psychologist, because he was definitely not in the school of Aaron Beck or Carl Rogers. He had very little positive regard for his clients. “Stop whining” seemed to be at the heart of a lot of his therapeutic style. To some degree, though, there is some insight in this statement, at least as far as my dieting history is concerned.
In general, I start a diet, and I start losing weight. Maybe for a week, maybe for two weeks. But soon after, something comes up. Maybe it’s a party that I want to go to, and I don’t want to have to eat different food than everyone else. Maybe it’s simply that the diet does not agree with me, and that I have been sick to my stomach for a few days. But eventually, I give up the diet. I find a good reason to.
The thing is, that if I’m ever going to be really happy, if I’m ever going to feel comfortable with myself, I have to lose weight. And the only way that I can lose weight is to exercise and eat differently than I have been. I have to schedule each of these events as non-negotiables in my day. I have to make time for exercise, even when it seems that there isn’t a spare minute in my schedule. I have to eat what I am supposed to, and not deviate from my plan. There is a good chance that I am going to be hungry. There is a good chance that I am going to want to eat other things. But I cannot loosen my resolve. I cannot eat things that I shouldn’t.
I have no one to blame but myself for the situation that I am now in. I am the one who ate all of the food that helped me reach this place. I am the one who sat on the couch and did not exercise. I am the one who continued to allow myself to grow into a (disgusting) size 20. And, at the end of the day, I am the only one who stands in the way of my own success. If I allow myself to succeed, I can. I can be a size 6 or a size 2 or whatever size I want. If I allow myself to fail, I will remain unhappy and unhealthy. I start today. I am ready for my new life. I am ready to take responsibility.