Contents under pressure may explode if heated.

I find it ironic that I'm such a creature of habit but at the same time, I grow so bored and irritated with certain routines.

In the past, living within the Selection Plan structure or counting points would get tedious. The foods that fell within the guidelines got boring. I would grow restless and resentful of the fact that I wasn't "allowed" to go on a Taco Bell bender by choice. Who are these assholes who are taking my money only to tell me what I can and can't eat? That's some fucking nerve....blah blah blah. Within minutes I'd have polished off half of a 7 layer burrito and a considerable part of the mondo size pop that went with it. (For the record, a 7 layer burrito = 12 points. I regularly ordered 2 of 'em back in the day, with a huge drink and a side of nachos w/cheese. My heart hurts just thinking about it.)

I realize now that my resentment and faux-anarchy was just a lame fucking cover. The most cowardly way out of acknowledging my own lack of self-discipline. My motives for starting WW had been all wrong. Usually I was doing it for someone else, not for me. Family, friends, boyfriend. Mistake number one. Moya touched on that in yesterday's meeting, you have to be doing this for yourself, and no one else.

Two years ago yesterday, I stopped smoking after 20 years. Just like that. I decided to stop, and that was it. You will notice that I use the word "stop" instead of "quit". To me, that choice of words means everything. Quit has such a negative tone for me. It's also so overwhelming. Done. Finito. The End. That's pretty massive and has so much pressure attached to it. If you quit, and then go back to it, you're some kind of failure. I don't need that kind of shit put on me, especially when it's ME that's doing the putting.

I decided to "stop", just to see how I would do. If I started again, it was alright because a good friend of mine had offered to help me out with laser therapy to help me stop for good. If I didn't start again, even better. But my attitude remained casual and stress-free and I can honestly say that in the two years that have gone by, I haven't even wanted so much as a drag off a cigarette. No appeal whatsoever.

Having started this new process of ditching the lard, I am taking the same sort of attitude. Let's just do this and see what happens. If I succeed, excellent. If I don't succeed, then we'll find another way. The last thing I need is pressure, that's the best way to ensure my failure.

I like this mindset. It makes things a lot easier to get my head around. This time I'm doing this for me, and no one else. I don't have to worry about guilt trips, being looked down upon or pressured into something I don't want to do. I'm the one paying the dollars, I'm the one making the choices. I don't have to answer to anyone but me, really. And that's the way it should be.

Right now, I'm totally into this. I am drawing great inspiration from some of the blogs I read, the people at my meeting, and the knowledge that I'm doing something good for myself.

Here is my first outside goal: I want to drop enough so I can go back to wearing my spike belt again. I loved slipping that into my work clothes whenever possible, dress code be damned. I have it hanging on a bookcase because it certainly doesn't fit me anymore. I miss it, not as much as my leather jacket which was so heinously stolen from the trunk of my car, but I still miss it. What can I say? I'm an old punk rock girlie who loves her shit.

I will get there, eventually. It's all about establishing goals that I can manage. A spike belt here, an old skirt there. It's all possible, I just have to give myself time.

xo
LB