So, how did you do it?

"So, how did you do it?"

How many times have I been asked that?  How many times have you been asked that?  Everyone wants to know how I dropped 40 (60 unofficially) pounds.  They want to know my secret.  They want to know the easy answer.  They want to find the magic formula.

I know this because I wanted to know all those things too.

But the answers are far from easy and no one has the time or inclination to hear the truth.

I didn't do this by watching my calories.  I didn't do this because the "rapid weightloss" program works so well.  I didn't do this by jogging a minuscule amount three times a week.  There was no magic

I have gotten to this point in my journey because I was willing to find the real reasons for my bad health.  I was willing to look in the very dark rooms inside.  I was willing to explore the reasons why I equated food with emotions.  I was willing to stand up to myself and call myself a liar.  I was willing to  expect demand honesty from myself.  I was willing to be scared.  I was willing to feel the pain.

And I was willing to stand before myself and understand, to forgive and to accept.

-----O-----

About a 2 years ago, before I gained all my weight back, an acquaintance had asked me that tired question.  He's got about half a foot and probably 50 pounds on me.  He smokes.  He doesn't exercise.  He wanted to know how I did it.  I told him the about the program and the Couch to 5K training I followed.  He said I inspired him. He got excited and vowed that he was going to start because he "had to do something."

I looked him in the eyes and said, "No. You won't."

The look of pain and disappointment and fear in his eyes that day disturbed me, and does so to this day.

He said that he was going to prove me wrong.  I said I hope he does.  I said you need to be ready to fix what's inside.  And I said that I was sorry, but I didn't think he was ready.

He wasn't.  He still smokes.  He still is large.  He didn't prove me wrong.  I knew he wasn't ready to do the real work.  He wanted the quick fix.  Like we all do.

But that day I just could not be dishonest with him.

Did I do wrong? Did I set him up for failure by telling him, essentially, that I didn't believe in him? 

But, here's the thing.

I am no better than him.

I crashed and burned inside.  After that encounter, I went on to gain back 50 pounds and slap another 20 on top of it.   I stopped being willing to do all that work I praised myself for doing just a few minutes ago in the paragraphs above.

I looked myself in the eyes and said "No. You won't" and I accepted that.

-----O-----

I am convinced that food didn't make me fat.  It was my 40 years of self loathing and a unwillingness to explore the depths of my being that did.  It was a lifetime of avoiding the pain inherent in life.  It was the fact that I was trying to feed what was going on inside with stuff from the outside.  It was because I was scared.

Nothing worked until I tended to that garden inside.

I don't know if this is the answer is right for you.  I don't want to inspire you.  You MUST find inspiration within yourself.  Nothing else works.

But that is how I did it.  And that's how I do it.  And it's how I'll keep doing it.

And that's what I'll tell the next person who asks.

Conversations In My Head: The Return of LHG

Hey.

I thought I took care of

you once and for all.

Come on. Did you really
think your little temper
tantrum would make me
leave?

I haven't changed my mind.

No, I know.  But I wanted
to make sure you knew I was
still here.

You know that thing
you do, when you post
about your successes,
your goals met, then
you turn right around and
lose it? You eat everything in
sight?  And you just can't stop?

That's me.

Will you please just leave me alone?

No.  You know I'm in there. You
know that will always be in here.
I just went silent for awhile.  And then you
forgot about me.

I have not forgotten you.  And you
have seen what I can do.

Are you threatening me?

Yeah.  I am.

Don't underestimate me.

I know your every weakness. And
I will be watching.

It's not fair that you

do this when I am

weak.

Are you kidding me? You've
been doing this lifestyle thing
for, what, two years?  And you
still don't get it.

Then tell me.

I will always be there when
you're weak.  Always. Every
damn time.

But, it doesn't have to play out
the way it has for the last 42 years.

I could be your strongest
ally.

But when you fight me, you
feed me.

With your hurts.  With
your failures.  With your fears.
With your memories of slights,
and hates, and every darkness
that you have ever walked through.

I do this to you, because
YOU keep me wounded.

Let me heal.

Please.

I don't know how.

Yes.  You do. If you're
brave enough.

Let me heal, Kevin. And
watch what happens.

Outside my inside

I am fat.

That's not a self-deprecating comment.  It is acceptance.  The closest I've come to accepting that fact.

I am fat.

I regularly tell myself that I am heavy.  Large.  That I carry it well.  That I'm not really that bad.  That I'm a skinny, fit person inside and all I have to is bring that person out.
And when I listen closely, there is a voice that says I don't have to believe any of this; that I'm just fine.

But, I am fat.  I accept it now.  And I know that I will need to keep accepting it, over and over and over again.

I can look in the mirror and see a man with kind eyes, with a friendly smile and a slightly greying beard.  I see a man that has been through a lot of trials and tribulations.  I see a man who has survived and succeeded.  I see a man I love.

Yet, in all my work to accept myself, to find the self esteem, to seek out and work through the emotions that control my eating...I forgot to accept the physical state of my body.  I denied it because I was not "that" person.  I was someone else I was discovering inside.  And I ignored the person I am on the outside.  I still do.

But I can't do that anymore.  I must accept that I am fat; that I am inhabiting an unhealthy body; that the body that gives me life isn't something separate from me....it is me.  My physical self.

I am a soul.  I am a mind.  I am a thought.  I am a personality.  And, I am also a body.  

I occupy space, therefore, I am.

As sad as it is, this is a new insight.  Or should I say a clearer insight.  I've not said anything I haven't thought before.  But, this morning, it just seems more real.  And scarier.

I am fat. And I don't want to be.

If I can keep hold of that fact, maybe, just maybe, I can begin doing something about it.

Killing Monsters

I've been just on either side of 300 now for the past 6 weeks or so. And I'd be lying if I said it didn't get me down.  It's like I hit a plateau and can't quite find my way back down. Or more like the harder I try to find my way down, the more I eat to punish myself for failing.  We emotional eaters really have strange relationships to food don't we?

And, of course, I'm dealing with my own inner demons, though these days are much better than that recent post.  You know which one.  I'm not going to revisit it.  It kinda scares me.  Anyway.

This morning I remembered something.  Many years ago, I dealt with unwanted thoughts. Not voices, and not intrusive thoughts or thoughts of harming myself or others.  Just think of it as OCD of the mind.  Or think of it as ruminating and obsessing on emotional thought triggers.

I named it my Monster and worked so hard at killing it.  I was seeing a therapist at that time too, and we tried several cognitive strategies to deal with it. I journaled.  I talked about it in therapy.  I tried teflon mind letting those thoughts enter and slip off like an egg on a brand new non stick skillet.  I tried screaming STOP! in my head and turn my attention to other thoughts.  To no avail.

After about a year, I was finally fed up and said to myself that killing it only fed it, only brought it attention.  Berating myself over not being able to kill it made it laugh and grow stronger.

So I stopped trying to kill it.  I walked away and stopped trying to find ways to kill it.  And I woke up one morning, about three weeks later, and I noticed it was dead.

Now here I am, struggling with weight loss again.  I know I've done it before, so why can't I do it now?  It seemed so easy the first time.  All I think about is food and how I'm going to be good today and wonder at which point of the day I'm going to fail and by golly I can make it well into the evening but then the fear of failure is so strong that I eat that bread or bowl of cereal or box of granola bars or leftover spaghetti that the family got to eat but I didn't cause I'm on this stupid diet and can't eat what they eat and goddamit I'm fed up with it and eat it all because the fear of doing so...

is finally released...

once I let myself do it. 

I have a new monster.  And I only realized it this morning.  I realized I can't kill it.  And I realize that's what I've been doing for oh so long.

Tonight, I'm going to try walking away from it and down the slope of this plateau.

And if I can't, so what.  I'll still be just on either side of 300.  Nothing will change except a new day of opportunity will begin tomorrow.

Glimpses of darkness; Discovery of light

I've not had a lot to say lately.  Well, that's not true.  I've not had a lot to say lately about my weight loss and self discovery journey.  My mind and thoughts have been elsewhere.


I find that I write a lot about hating myself.  I enjoy writing the conversations with the Left Hand Guy.  Those are real and visceral expressions of what is going on inside my mind.  But when I get right down to brass tacks...I don't really hate myself.  I am often, perhaps constantly, dissapointed in myself.  I often don't like myself for making the same mistakes and bad judgement over and over again.  I often tell myself self defeating things, especially about my weight and whatnot.

But the truth is, I think I'm a nice guy.  I think I'm a good guy.  I like the man I've become and I've been working on it since I was 14.  That's when my dad sat me down and told me that he was done raising me.  He said, "I've taught you right from wrong.  I've taught you how to treat others.  I've tried to teach you integrity and honesty.  But from here, it's up to you to determine what kind of man you want to be."

Now, I'm sure I'm relating that story with some dramatic effect, but that is gist of what he said to me some 25 years ago.  And of course he wasn't done raising me.  He still isn't.  What he was doing was letting me go...just a little...to find my own way.  And I did, eventually.

It is, to be truthful, difficult for me to say that I love myself.  My own baggage and depression make barriers.  But I do like who I am.  Right now, in life, I'm happy with who I am though I am discouraged by my weaknesses.  My weight and my emotional control with food are some of those perceived weaknesses.  But I'm learning I am not helpless in those areas either.

These are the kind of thoughts that have been on my mind.  And it comes on the experience of my wife's journey.  I had never known the depths to which someone could truly hate oneself; to truly be filled with emptyness and blackness; to truly not see one's beauty inside or out even after having been with her for 20 years now.  I have glimpsed this in someone that I love and it breaks my heart.

It gives me perspective.  And it gives me a source of strength to know this about myself.  And it gives me a foundation to work on while I make this journey with my wife.

Like I said when I started this post, I find I write a lot about hating myself.  What if that is just a crutch, an excuse to continue on this road without finding any destination?  A shell to hide what I really feel and am afraid to experience?  Self love. Self success. Genuine pride and genuine humility in oneself.  These things can be scarier to write about than self hate.

Conversations in my head

You've had a rough new year.

Oh crap.
I don't have time
for you right now.

You got me wrong, dude.
I'm not here to give you a hard time.

Really?

Yeah.  You're not the only one changing.
Don't get me wrong.  I'm still gonna be there
making your life miserable as much as I can.
But for now, I'm telling you, you get a pass.

I don't trust you.

Dude, I don't expect you to, but
we're all rooting for you.

All?

Yeah.  Thin Me is here and Fat Me too.

Thin Me: Hey.

Fat Me: Hiya.

Hey guys.

I'm still confused.

Look.  We've been watching you and...

Thin Me: Hey before we get going here, we
gotta give you a name.

Fat me: How about Left Hand Guy?

Left Hand Guy: I can live with that.
As I was saying, we've been watching you.

FM: You're changing.

TM: You're growing.

FM: No fat jokes! Oh, I get what
you're saying. Never mind.

LHG: And whether we like it or not, we're along for the ride

I still don't understand.
What are you doing here?

Why are you all talking to me?

FM: Well, first off, it sounds like you need some help.
My job would have been to feed you food.  But...

TM: I've been able to talk him out of it, for the most part.

FM: And I've been listening to TM.

LHG: And I just don't have the heart to kick a man when
he's down.  Well, actually I do, but these other
two have been keeping me in check.

Ok. Sure. Life has been stressful. I appreciate

the break guys, but...
this is a little crazy.
Even for me.

ALL: But we heard what you said, Kevin.

What?

FM: To the mirror.

TM: When you usually say to yourself, that
you have kind eyes.

LHG: But tonight you said...

You have sad eyes.

LHG: Yes.

TM: And we just thought...

FM: That you needed a hug.

Ok.  This is really getting weird.

Did I take my pills this morning?

FM: You really don't get it do you?

LHG: You're the one who said that we are ME.

Yeah, but...

TM: There is no but.  Whether you like it or not
we are US, we are WE. And
you're getting a reprieve.

LHG: And I have to tell you, I'm surprised with you.

Why?

LHG: Because FM has been knocking at your door
for two weeks and you've not given him a lot of  face time.

FM: I don't mind.  Actually I think it's a good thing.
I just wanted to let you know I was there if you
needed me.

Um. Thanks?

FM: No probs.

LHG: And you've been ignoring me, except
for that whole fear of financial ruin thing.  I admit that
was low, even for me.

TM: LHG, you really are a jerk.

LHG: I know, but we're not here to talk about me.
We're here to talk about ME.

But, how are we gonna give us a hug?

TM: It's a metaphor, dum dum.

LHG: Oooo there's something I want to say here,
but I'll hold our tongue.

FM: I wish I had brought ice cream.

TM: Well, that's our cue.  Time for us to go.

Really? I was just getting getting used

to the fact that we were talking to us.

LHG:  All the better to stop before people
start thinking you're strange in the head.

FM:  Rocky Road, Cookie Dough.  Ooo, I know, Butter Brickle.

TM: We gotta go.

FM: I'll be here if you need me, but I don't
think you will.

LHG: And remember, I'll be back, and
I'm still a jerk.  But if you can change,
I'm only going to change with you.

TM: He doesn't really have a choice.

FM: None of us do.  You're the one in driver's seat.

ALL: And let your eyes be sad. Sad is not bad.

Ok guys.  I'm not sure what to say.

ALL: Don't worry about it.

Conversations in my head

So, you're back on "the program" are you?

Yeah.

Feeling good?

Yeah.

Doing ok so far?

Mostly, yeah.

You're not going to be able to do it, day in and day out.

I know.

You're eventually gonna eat more than you should.

I know.

You're gonna have days where you just don't want to exercise.

I know.

You're going to screw up.

I know.

You are going to fail.

I know.

You a...what?

I know all these things.

I'm not perfect.

  We're not perfect.

So why do it?

Because most days, I will eat right.

Most days I will exercise.

Most days I will be good enough.

Most days I will succeed.

Yeah, but "most days" means some days you will fall.
And I'll be right there to make you feel like shit.

I know.

Aren't you scared?

Yeah.  But I do not fear you.

Dude, don't you get it?

I'm in a better place.

I can look at you and not fear you.

I know you now better than I ever have.

Sure I'm scared that it won't work in the end, but

I do not fear trying.

I do not fear facing you and

Telling you to go to hell 

When I need to.

I won't make it easy for you.

I wouldn't expect anything less.

You are a part of me.

You always will be.

But, what I've decided...

What?

I've decided that I'm not doing
This to prove you wrong.

I'm doing it for me.  

And you.

Me?

Yeah.
You serve a purpose. You make me

Question. Inquire. Challenge. 

Learn. Live. Love.

You are not evil.

You + me = ME.

And I'm ready

To make ME

Something new.

Something old.

Something real.

Something happy.

You're a tool.

Ha!

I know.  So are you.

You coming?

Choosing Reflections

I stand before the mirror and I
See my large belly. I
See my flabby neck. I
See the sadness in my eyes. I
See the fat hanging from my
Frame, from my
Thighs.

I see my
Legs unable to run under
The weight and strain.  I see
My back full of aches, unable
To bend without pain. I see
My arms, with hanging skin underneath. I see my shoulders, slumped and broken
By life's burdens.

I see my face full of
Weakness.
Failure.
Shame.

I see all that I hate
About myself.

I stand before the mirror and I

See legs that hold me

Up like steel pillars. I 

See a back, strong

And proud.  I see

Arms with the strength

To work, the gentleness

To hug my daughters and to

Hold my wife when she is sad.

Or scared.

I see my shoulders, steady

And broad, ready to carry

The weight of life's burdens

for me. And for my family.

And I see my belly

As it wobbles and jiggles

And wiggles and bobbles

When I laugh after wrestling my

Son to the floor, both of us doubled

Over in our glee.

I see my face, proud and secure

In knowing my true worth.

And I look into my eyes, and I

See kindness. I 

See forgiveness. I

See intelligence.

I see Myself.

Delicous Cores

So there's this blog post by Joy Tanksley called How to get what you really want that I read.  It was suggested by my friend Karen C. L. Anderson at Before and After in a link she posted to Facebook about a month ago.  Before I go any further, if you haven't visited either of these fine bloggers, do so.  I don't follow Joy as consistently as I do Karen, but both are thought provoking and inspiring authors worthy of your time. (and if the links aren't underlined, run your cursor over this paragraph to find them.  I don't know why the underlines don't show up half the time.)

So anyway, Joy wrote this article.  The upshot is to find what I really want through an exercise of asking why.  For example, I want to lose weight.  Why? Because I want to be healthy. Why? And so on and so on.  Eventually I should get to the heart of my desire, what Joy calls the delicious core.  It's a good exercise that I've done in various forms over the years.  The problem is I always get stuck on the shoulds.

When I start the exercise, I begin with "I want to lose weight."  Why? "Because I should." Why? "Because I should." Well....why? "Because I should."

See the problem?

I should want to be thinner, to be healthier, but I have no reason for why I should.  And "should" isn't enough.

So.  What do I want? I want to wear regular sized clothes.  I want to be able to bend over without losing my breath.  I want to run. I want to look in the mirror and feel good about myself.  I want to be free of food's icy grip.  I want to let food go.  I want to stop feeling shame about every bite that goes in to my mouth.  I want feet that don't hurt. I want knees that don't ache. I want to be happy.

...and there it is. My delicious core.

I may not get there by asking why.  But I know that is my answer.  When I ask myself why I want to be happy, the answer isn't "because I should." The answer is because that is what I want.

The exercise would have me go on to find ways that I could experience my delicious core.  But I have no idea how to be happy.  Oh I know how to fake it.  But is happiness something you can create? For 41 years, those times I experience happiness is because, for that moment in time, I'm happy.  It just happens.  Either I am or I'm not.  And, mostly, I'm not.

How does one create happiness?

I think that a lot of answers I'm seeking for the many things in my life and the many things I blog about are in the answer to that question.

Muffins are not smiles

I was sitting in my in-laws' hotel room on a two day road trip to distant parts of North Dakota and having some breakfast.  My MIL's rhubarb muffins to be exact.  And while I was eating, a thought flashed through my brain.  I didn't pay much attention to it.  In fact, it barely registered--until I was going on my third muffin and second glass of milk: "Rhubarb muffins taste like smiles."

Muffins taste like smiles?  What?

It was a grok kind of moment.  That muffin wasn't just breakfast.  It was an emotion.  A happy emotion.  And I wanted more happiness.

A few weeks ago I posted a rather depressing reflection on whether or not I wanted to do this anymore.  It was good to get those words out.  Even more so was listing the emotional connections I have to food.  I had never really put it all together like that before and it was insightful to see a litany of different ways I equate foods with emotions and memories.  Those words stayed with me throughout the rest of my trip to NoDak and I'm glad to report that, upon returning home, I stepped on the scales to learn I had gained a mere pound (woo hoo!).

I do want to do the work.  But if I'm equating muffins with smiles, I think I got a longer haul to make than I ever thought.  I am so glad that I was in a state of mind to catch that stray thought and examine it.  It was easy to forgo more muffins when I realized I was making an unhealthy association.  But I wonder how often those stray thoughts go through my mind and I'm not mindful.

Since then, I'm trying to approach each meal with a reminder that it is nourishment first.  It doesn't mean food can't be enjoyed or pleasurable, but it does mean I try not to equate emotions with food.  Food isn't happiness-happiness is happiness.  Food isn't comfort-comfort is comfort.  Foods aren't memories--memories are memories.

It sounds so simple.  I'm even a bit embarrassed to publish this.  But this is revolutionary for me.

And just how do muffins become smiles?  I could not figure out why such an association would exist.  I'm not a big fan of rhubarb.  And we didn't have much of it growing up.  Rhubarb muffins certainly were not a staple in youth. But...  my MIL's muffins had a particularly lemony flavor.  And lemon bars figured large in my childhood.  It was a treat mom would make for us.  It was brought out for special occasions and special visitors.  And lemon pie is my dad's favorite pie.  And lemonade made with real cane sugar and lemon juice was a particular summertime treat when I was a boy.  And...  And..  And... and the relationships kept coming.  The muffins were smiles because I have many happy memories associated with lemon flavored treats.

So, I have to ask, am I losing it?  Am I the only one out there who's mind works this way?  Do you ever find yourself making similar connections or catching similar freak thoughts?

Muffins are not smiles.  Smiles are smiles.

Muffins are muffins.

Discoveries

It started with a memory.

I had been thinking about food and my odd relationship with it and I remembered a friend’s 30th birthday party. They had shish kabob gyro meat done up on the grill and all sorts of things to make Greek goodness.

And soon, as people were done eating, I got nervous.

You see, there was still meat on the buffet table. Delicious gryo meat! I couldn’t stand it. There was meat and no one was going to eat it. Presumably my friend would have put it in a container and kept it as leftovers, but she wasn’t doing it. She left it out there! And no one was eating it! The compulsion to eat it was overwhelming. I tried to be sneaky about it. I tried to hide the fact I was snacking long after everyone else had stopped eating. To this day I don’t know if anyone noticed, but the memory of that shame has not left me after 9 years. I ate about a 1/3 pound of meat that I wasn’t hungry for….simply because no one else was going to and I couldn’t stand it being there. Perhaps a third pound isn’t excessive, but the thoughts accompanying were.

Does this make a lick of goddam sense?

That memory lead to other thoughts. Roast beef, gravy and mashed potatoes. OMG. Whenever we have this, I pig out. And the thought in my head is “who knows when you’re gonna have this again? Better get it while you can.” Pig out city. Same thing with what my family calls goulash (most people would call it chili mac without the chili seasoning). I go ape shit for this stuff and eat bowl after bowl with the same thoughts “Better get it while you can.” Same with tuna & noodles. Same with chop suey. Same with popcorn. Same with macaroni and cheese (homemade with Velveeta, not that boxed stuff).

It’s insanity is what it is.

It is a compulsion from my unconscious mind. These foods are my comfort foods. They are the foods we had growing up. We had at least one of those dishes every week (well, not the roast beef, but since we raised steers it was often enough). I’m sure there some emotional attachment there that I’m going to have to explore someday. And all this brought to mind many other things. Mom couldn’t leave a gas station without a candy bar, and one for each of us boys. There was always an after school snack (sometimes healthy, sometimes not). There was nearly always a bedtime snack. Then there were the things that were scarce: Pop was only on hand if we were sick or having pizza. We didn’t have pizza very often. Chips were only served if we were having burgers and dogs. There is still a part of my mind that considers these things treats and rarely enjoyed despite the fact that I have them all the friggen’ time now.

“Better get it while you can.”

It has never been so clear to me that any health gain for me will not happen until I address this emotional attachment to food. Habits, fears of scarcities, attachments to childhood memories. These things I hadn’t figured on. Here I thought emotional eating meant only to eat as a way to deal with stress and hurt. It goes much deeper than that.

I am grateful for these discoveries.

A friend on Facebook posted a quote from Regina Brett in God Never Blinks:

"Forgiveness is giving up all hope of a better past. At first that sounds harsh, but once you let go of what you wanted the past to be, you can start changing the present and create a better future.”

I don’t know what her book is about or what context this quote comes out of, but boy oh boy it is powerful. Forgiveness is giving up all hope of a better past. Forgiveness of myself is giving up all hope that I won’t eat that gyro meat 9 years ago. It means giving up all hope that I’ll be able to restrain my compulsions of the past. It means giving up all hope that my mother will be a better example to the child within me when it comes to diet. It means to come to the final, inescapable conclusion that the past is set in stone. The hurts inflicted by myself and by others will not be erased and no hope in the world can change what has happened.

The present, however, can be changed. And that is more power than I've ever had before.

I have a lot of work to do.

Conversations in my head

Who are you?

I am the Jogging Clydesdale?

No, who are you?

I am Kevin.

No, who are you?

I am...me?

You just don't quite get it.

I don't understand.

WHO ARE YOU?

I am my wife's husband.

I am my children's father.

I am a son.

I am a brother.

I am a cousin.

I am...

Who are you?

I am you.  You are me.

What do you want?

I want health.

What do you want?

I want to not be fat.

What do you want?

I want to run. 

I want to scream.

I want to cry. I want to do.  I want to be.

I want to hide.  I want to be seen. 

I want to learn.  I want....

Yes?

I want to love.  I want to be loved.

By who?

By my family.  By my friends.

And?

I want to love myself.

Why?

Because hating myself hurts too much. 

There is no one crueler to me than me. 

I am at the mercy of my own self.

And I can be an angry, angry man.

Why?

Because I am scared.

Of what?

I don't know.

Me?

Yes.

Why?

You are the voice in my head that tells me I am no good.  

You are the thoughts that tell me I am ugly.  

You are the one who convinces me I am failing. 

You are my shame. 

You are my anger. 

You are my cruelty.

What are you going to do about it?

Forgive you.

What?

I forgive you. 

I don't know why you are so angry. You scare the crap out of me

every time I look in the mirror or close my eyes.  

But you cannot control me.

I forgive you.  I accept that you are a part of me.  

And by loving you first, maybe I will learn to finally

be me.

Looking back, briefly

I spent part of the afternoon today perusing my older, now defunct blog Amish Guitar. It was a fun little blog where I journaled about teaching myself how to play guitar after reaching the ripe old age of 36. I still wish sometimes that I had kept at it...but I just came to the point where I didn't feel like I had anything more to say.

What struck me today is a certain post I wrote called "After School Special." Apparently the after school special metaphor resonates with me. Anyway, it's a post about learning to be comfortable with my own progress as a guitarist, pushing myself to learn and grow and to not compare my skills with more experienced and talented musicians. Then I read this little gem:

See, the after school specials were right. Most things in life can't be judged against the accomplishments of others even though we often live our lives like we should account for ourselves that way. No, the accomplishments of others can inspire, inform, and encourage us. But our true test is how we judge ourselves against that ideal person we hope to be someday. What we forget is that we need to give ourselves a chance to grow into that person and take pride in the small achievements just as must as the larger ones.

What struck me is that this is equally true when I judge myself against myself. Despite my best efforts, I've been deriding myself for getting heavy again.  I've been comparing myself to my 38 year old self when I dropped 65 pounds.  I struggle with the feelings of failure and disappointment and truly wonder at my younger self's ability to have accomplished his goals.  I've been judging myself against those accomplishments.  I am judging against that ideal person I was and not the ideal person I know I will be someday.

I am not that same man anymore.  Younger Kevin's life was quite different than mine is now.  And I can't keep comparing myself to who I was.  I can only be who I am right here, right now.  And I've made, I think, remarkable progress in the last 6 months in becoming more and more comfortable with accepting myself as I find myself.  Every morning I strive to wake up and be okay with my situation, both my weight & health, but also all the things in my life that bring difficulty. 

Young Kevin can and does inspire me.  What I've learned about health and weight loss informs the decisions I make today.  And I am encouraged that I did it once and I can do it again.

One thing that Young Kevin did not have was an real understanding about how his emotions are so tightly woven into his eating habits--and how to deal with those emotions, how to work through the underlying emotional problems.  I am beginning to learn what emotional eating means and coping skills to deal with those moments.  And I am learning how to accept those uncomfortable emotions that I would try to avoid or heal with food.  I am learning to love myself and accept myself with all my flaws.

I wrote some weeks ago about waking up, looking in the mirror and say to myself "I have kind eyes." I still do that.  It makes all the difference in the world in how I approach my day and how I feel about myself. I am becoming that ideal person I know I will be.

Onions

It's been a bit since I last posted.  To tell the truth, for every two steps forward in getting a handle on my emotional health and it's integrated, interwoven effects on my physical health...it's usually a step backward.  It's like an onion.  Just when I feel I've let somethings go, truly feel that I am over some situation or worked through some negative self image, I find it again at a deeper level....a more basic level.

I have a lot of anger.

Without going into all the details, 2010 started out by a betrayal of a friend.  That friend was also my pastor but I am careful to point out his breach of confidence was rooted in our shared friendship and not his confidential duties as a man of the cloth.  It was final straw and the tipping point in my relationship with him.  I ended up resigning my position as a lay leader in my congregation and pretty much withdrawing from church altogether.  The rest of the church leadership got involved with the pastor in issues that went much deeper than my personal pain, and it ended with him tendering his resignation in June effective at the end of August.

There is no doubt in my mind, though, that he blames me for the majority of his failed ministry with my congregation.  I have the e-mail.

I've consciously let go of my hurt and anger.  It doesn't serve me.  I know that I did not, as he put it, "damage his ability to participate in the relational structure of the congregation..."  I have worked hard to let it go and not let the situation and the memories of the situation control my day to day emotional life.  And I've been rather successful.

But then I peel a layer of the onion.

Things have changed in the way I relate to church, to members of my congregation and to how I experience God.  I went to church today and we installed a new, interim pastor, and I've been moody all afternoon.  Everything has changed.  It isn't over simply because he left.  There is aftermath that continues to affect my life and the lives of others. The situation of the former friend and pastor can be directly linked to my wife's emotional and mental health issues.  The stress of the last year has been central in my weight gain.  I have a lot of anger that I am left with this situation to deal with.

I'm not giving up.  I'll keep peeling back that onion.  Pastor Whosit surely isn't the only thing I'll find I'm sure.  Keeping a positive attitude and squelching the negative self talk is a significant step forward for me given my past and personality.  But denying what's buried deep down will not keep me moving forward.

I've got more work to do.

You know, this isn't a typical Jogging Clydesdale post.  But it was important to write so I think I'll post it anyway.