Regression sucks. It just does. Any time we take a couple steps backwards from the direction we want to go in, it can feel like a complete failure. Case in point: Me. Anyone who is already familiar with my Sober City blog (or has spent more than a few days with me) knows that I have deeply ingrained and sometimes ridiculous weight issues. I'm sure being in a business where what you look like is a big part of how much you work doesn't help but I know I share this struggle with millions of people outside "the business" as well. It's been a problem since I was little and (if my mother is any indication) it'll probably be an issue my whole life. Unless of course I just stop caring about it altogether which is totally easy and will probably happen without any therapy at all, right around the same time as the presidential inauguration of Honey Boo Boo.
I bring this up only because this blog needs to be about complete honesty if it’s ever going to do me any good to write and be worth any time at all for you to read. I believe the only way to make sense of anything is to get to the truth of the moment in every moment and the only way to get the to truth is to be completely open and honest as much as possible, beginning with yourself. Yesterday I went to the gym for the first time in over a month and it felt great. Sometimes simply making the choice to change and head in a better direction is enough to make you feel a thousand times better than you did the day before. True for me, until I stepped on the demonic and twisted device from the seventh circle of hell known as the scale. Make no mistake, the scale is an evil bastard and wants to eat your soul. There was really no purpose to get on it unless cannibals were planning on purchasing parts of me to eat and needed to know the daily market value of White Nova Scotian. They didn’t. They still don’t. Regardless, I continually use this device and receive information that I do nothing with except panic over and directly attach to my immediate happiness or (more often) personal failure. Because of this, yesterday I went from feeling awesome after a great workout to thinking "Oh shit, I gained over 30 pounds since 2011. I'm back to where I started. Why'd I let it get so bad? What a fool I am! Help me Dr. Oprah Jesus!". Ridiculous things fly through the mind of the weight obsessed on the hellish scale of pain and I fall prey to it's vicious ways time and time again.
But how does that really change anything? Well, the good news is, it doesn't at all. I'm still on the right path, I'm still moving forward and I'm closer today to where I want to be than I was yesterday. Simple as that. It feels like regression getting on a scale and seeing numbers you don't want to see or falling behind in a career you used to be further up the ladder in or indulging in something you promised to quit even though you were doing so great avoiding it, but it's all an illusion. It feels like regressing but it's actually just repositioning. How can anyone truly regress when it's impossible to do anything but continue to move forward? Sure sometimes we veer a little to the left or right but we're still all going the same way. It's not about getting "back" to somewhere you were before, it's about knowing where you want to go and heading forward in that direction.
If there's one thing I've learned doing Sober City the first time, it's that change can happen anytime you want it to and it's never to late to turn it all around. I also found out that as soon as I decided to take the wheel and get myself back on track to where I truly wanted to be, the quickest route had been right in front of me the entire time. All I really needed to do was pay attention to the signs and enjoy the ride.



3 thoughts on “SOBER CITY: TR – Day 3”

  1. You have been a beautiful person since I first met you at age 5! Weight and other issues, we all have, do not define a person! I am proud of you for wanting to make healthier choices in your life…but know that we love you, no matter what! xxoo

    Your 2nd momma

  2. I don’t have a problem with alcohol, but I’ve battled with food for too long to know exactly when it began. From a self-loathing-because-of-weight mom, to a weight-obsessed gymnastics coach who would only advance my 10-year-old self to a higher competitive level if I lost 10 pounds, I had no shortage of destructive influences. I spent 26 hours/week training under that coach’s watchful eye. She built winners; angry, hollow winners. I watch old home videos today and cry. I see the strength of a super hero packed into a petite body with curly pigtails and a nervous smile, yet I remember feeling little more than hatred for my thighs because they touched each other when I stood straight to salute the judges. I mastered my art, but even pride in standing on the award podium time and time again faded to disgust. I couldn’t make my thighs go away, and I never advanced beyond Class III.

    The judges, coach, scores, and pressure of advancement have been gone for 24 years, and yet, my self-esteem shows no sign of returning. My weight has fluctuated through pregnancies, diets, and exercise, but the older I get, the harder it is to control, and the more pained I am to look in the mirror. I wish you the best, and sincerely hope you to continue to post. You are an excellent writer, and I admire you very much for sharing your struggles.

    1. Thank you so much for sharing your struggles. Every one of us who has ever experienced weight issues on a deep level know how all encompassing and damaging it can be. It sounds like you’ve done a lot of work on yourself and are still struggling in new ways. I hope it gets easier for you one day and in the meantime keep the dialogue going and I wish you all the best! 🙂

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