It is a gray, gloomy day. I have a final in 3178 and haven't a clue what I was supposed to study.
I will be attending a study section for GEO today, however.
Realistically:
1. Grades DO NOT matter. I cannot measure myself by grades. I need ways to help me process that.
2. She is only taking the higher of the two exams. I've already gotten a B on the midterm, so that's the lowest anything will be.
3. GEO-I've got a B going in and the final is weighted the same as the quizzes. I will be okay.
RELAX RELAX RELAX.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
I have mixed feelings about mother's day.
I think-because I am feeling ambivalent about my own mother, I feel unsure if I'm a good enough mother.
Again
I'm so frustrated. I weighed 130.5 this A.M. It's because I binged Saturday night after the JR show. I can tell my stomach is puffier. I cannot deal with my sadness/frustrations/stress by eating. It doesn't solve anything and it just makes me stress more. I'll keep pushing ahead.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Early writings
3178W Documentary Cinema
February 21
I’ve struggled with my weight all my life. I’ve weighed as much as 155 lbs at the age of 14 and as little as 78 lbs a year later, when I was 15. I’ve had a complicated relationship with food that has sent me into very dark places at both ends of the extreme. During my pregnancies I weighed in the 180’s and during my first marriage stayed at roughly 150. When I left my first husband in 2003, I weighed 138 lbs. A year later, I weighed 123 lbs. When I remarried in 2009, I weighed 130. And today, when I stopped by the gym and weighed myself, I weighed 139 ½. I’ll be fifty years old in October of 2011, and I’ve set a goal to weigh 130 on that day. I’m starting now-it’s February 21 and this will be my documentary project for the next eleven weeks of class. This will be a journal of my daily struggle with my weight in which I choose to examine the link between my self-esteem and my weight.
Cast:
My dear husband, Chuck. He’s a photographer and music lover and the most wonderful person alive. And my best friend.
My son, Corey, who’s 27 and a filmmaker. He’s a truly lovely person and I’m so proud of him.
My daughters, Lulu and Veronica. Veronica turns 13 in May and Lulu turns 17 in June. I will be so sad when they leave home.
I was a chubby little girl. That’s all I knew-I was never quite felt right or like I belonged. I felt that I needed to make extra efforts in order to be accepted or liked, so I was the nicest, the funniest and the happiest girl. My parents seemed ashamed of me because of my weight, so my self-worth was dependant on getting approval from them or from anyone, actually. In grade school, I worked hard to get straight A’s in every class and always volunteered for extra work or extra credit. What I did really never seemed to be enough to fit in, and I still felt like an outcast because of my size. I walked to kindergarten every day and had to pass a house where a boy would yell out ‘Fatty fatty two-by-four, can’t get through the kitchen door’ at me when I walked by. After school one day, I heard him call out to me and I just kept walking, not turning back. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he was behind me on his bike with a big black dog running beside him. I started to run and the dog came chasing after me and barking. He was yelling at me to run fast, little fatty, run fast. I was horrified that the dog would bite me and began to scream and cry and run as fast as I could. At some point he turned around and went back home. I was six years old. He was probably twelve. As the mother of three kids, I try to imagine what I would do if I saw my six year old run into the house crying. Probably comfort her? Ask her what was wrong? I’ve asked my mother about this and she doesn’t remember this at all. But I remember it like it was yesterday.
I was very creative when I was young. I wanted to dance and sing. I went to dance classes and art classes. I remember lying on the floor of our living room and drawing pictures. I used to draw pictures of skinny girls. Skinny girls with straight hair that was parted down the middle wearing (what was called back then) hip-hugger jeans. I was born in 1961, so my formative years were the 70’s, with platform shoes and drop waisted mini dresses. I had to buy clothes in the “chubby” girls section of the store, or at Lane Bryant. I used to sing all the time. I loved Carole King, Linda Ronstadt and the Carpenters.
February 26
Today I weighed myself when I woke up. The number was 135.5-the scale at the gym was two pounds heavier so I’m going to give myself the extra two as the count for today: 137.5
I had my 12 year old take a picture of me in my exercise gear before I went downstairs to workout.
I’d like to take a critical look at this picture. Of course I wore black for its forgiving qualities, but there is still the ability to see my body. I find myself wanting to say “problem areas” or worse-things like “bulges”, “flab”, and “fat”. First off, I’m going to refrain from commenting on points that are permanent and will not change with weight loss and exercise. For example, the well-deserved fifty-year old wrinkles on my face and neck. This project does not include expensive plastic surgery. Also, there’s a basic body shape that I need to accept. Narrow shoulders and hips and tendency to store weight around my middle. I also have spinal issue that affects my upper back and causes me to slouch. Over time I’ve worked on strengthening my upper body muscles to try and correct the imbalance as much as possible.
I felt good this morning when I got up. Ready and excited to start on this project. I did 21 minutes of interval training-which was torturous at first but got a little easier as it went on. I then did 15 minutes of core work. I haven’t done any strenuous exercise in a few months. In the summer I would bike around the lakes and cover about 25 miles. A few days a week at work I walk with a friend over lunch break and two days a week go to a Pilates class at the gym. I have an exercise bike at home and bicycle as much as I can. Since January, I’ve been roller-skating at the dome on Friday nights. Not roller blading but roller-skating. Old school quads-it’s fun. Anyway, I realized I need to kick this half-ass regime up a notch and mean business. I just need to keep this outside of my emotions and my crazy-ness.
February 27
I just finished my workout this morning. Bleh. I try to break it down in bite-size (no pun intended) terms. One 21 minute session of interval training, one 15 minute exercise video...it’s really not that much of a time commitment.
Last night I had dinner with my old bandmates. We played together throughout the eighties and nineties and except for Krystal, haven’t played in many years. We have dinner once a month alternating houses. Last night Amy made a tremendous meal with steamed asparagus and crepes. I made a point to taste the food and let my reach satiety. I’ve heard it takes 20 minutes for the signal to reach your brain that you are full. I get distracted easily and as long as there is food on my plate, I’ve kept eating without thinking.
It’s strange to look around at the table and see us getting older. Gray hair, extra pounds around the middle, wrinkled faces. But-it’s good-it’s grounding and it’s a reassuring place to be. We see each other struggle through crises and provide a safe place to talk.
I wonder how this week is going to go-I’m gone all day Monday and Tuesday-first at work then to class. It’s so tiring.
February 28
Long day at work, then Documentary Cinema class at 6P. I do my best not to think about how long it will take to finish my degree by taking two classes a semester. I’ve got 30 credits to go, so it would be another two years. But that’s closer than I was last year, or the year before. I just put my head down and keep going.
I get overwhelmed and cry-when my husband would be pick me up after French class I would cry in the car all the way home. That was a two-semester ordeal. Now I’m taking Geology 1001 and while I really enjoy the lectures, the lab sessions are excruciating. I’m sitting at a table with girls the same age as my daughter, and they are rushing through all the work so they can leave early. It takes me a few minutes to process new ideas and to let concepts make sense in my mind. These girls fly through the group work and scram as soon as they can. I feel like an outsider-just as much as I did when I was back in elementary school and junior high. I fight the insecurity because I know my input and my presence is valuable and important. I wish I knew how to do that when I was a kid constantly being teased about my weight.
I got home and did some upper body weight training with a video.
March 1
I decided to do take my time in lab and not give in to the pressure I felt from the other students at my table. I took my time and I did what I needed to do to understand the lesson. Then I went to the geology lecture and found out I got a 20/20 on the last quiz. Yippee! But-this victory is short-lived; I have a lab midterm and a quiz in the lecture class. Not looking forward to Tuesday.
It was nice to go home and crawl into bed next to my husband. So tired. No exercise today other than lots of walking.
March 2
Had to run over to the West Bank to set up a teleconference meeting for my boss, Bob. I really enjoy my job. In fact, I really enjoy my life-I love my life. Never in a million years did I think I would end up with a nice home, a sweet husband, happy kids and a fulfilling life. It could be that what makes a person happier changes when they get older. Little things make me happy now. Waking up next to my husband every morning and going to sleep next to him every night makes me happy.
In a final attempt at ‘finding’ a partner, I wrote an online ad. But this was a different ad than the ones I had written before. The ads I had written before were vague, casting a wide net across what I envisioned to be a waiting pool of eligible, fantastic, self-assured and handsome men. These attempts were futile, and the cross-section of barely acceptable responses were disappointing. My approach to this final ad was much like shopping online. I ‘ordered’ a man between specific ages, divorced with kids, with specific musical and cinema tastes, and most importantly, with the intention of creating a future together. I received only two responses. Chuck answered first, and when I clicked on his profile, his picture took my breath away. Gorgeous.
In my 20’s, I was so sure I was going to be a rock star. I was so sure that since I was so tortured as a kid, I was going to be the biggest star to make up for it.
That’s me, in the fringe vest circa 1987. I loved being on stage-now the thought of it seems so unusual. I wrote and sang songs and played guitar. In the early 90’s I lived in New York for awhile, playing with studio musicians and producers who played with Keith Richards, Iggy Pop, the Indigo Girls, the B52’s-just about everyone who either used studio musicians or needed a song or album produced. It didn’t work out. I came back to Minneapolis, got married and had two girls with my first husband who was in the music business. He managed the nightclub First Avenue for 34 years before being unjustly fired in 2004. We married in 1993, and the divorce was final in 2006.
I got home after a long day around 645P. Chuck had dinner ready. Sitting around the dinner table with my husband and teenage daughters is another wonderful part of my day. After dinner, the girls cleaned up the kitchen and I did interval training on the bike and then some core work and then read a book for class. I’m beat.
March 3
This afternoon my husband and I met with my lawyer from my divorce. Chuck’s ex-wife is threatening take him to court to have his alimony payments increased to cover the amount she’s going to lose when Chuck’s youngest son turns 18 and the child support payments stop. What we worry about is that through her angry rants about us not paying more money, she’ll jeopardize our relationship with Chuck’s granddaughter Layla (who also lives in the home along with her mom). We started picking her up on Sundays. I don’t want to give that up.
Anyway, did my cardio on my exercise bike and lifted weights for a little while. I still feel fat. I don’t like my body shape. What does that mean? What would the world be like if we didn’t have mirrors or scales? How would my life be different if I wasn’t ruled by the scale?
March 4
It was a very long day. I’m preparing for a group of external reviewers to come in and do a study of one of our grad programs. I’m in charge of the details-scheduled meetings, locations, food, hotel, etc. This starts first thing Monday morning, so it will be a long Monday and Tuesday, because I also have class Monday night and Tuesday night. And Tuesday’s classes I’ve got a midterm and a quiz. Yup. It’s going to be crazy next week.
I’m going to bed early. No exercise today.
March 5
I cannot believe this. I didn’t lose a pound this week. I weighed myself this morning and I weighed 135.5. How is that even possible? I exercised five out of the last seven days and ate normally. Okay. I have to eat less than what I’m eating and still exercise. Ugh.
“The hormonal changes of menopause may make you more likely to gain weight around your abdomen, rather than your hips and thighs. Hormonal changes alone don't necessarily trigger weight gain after menopause, however. Instead, the weight gain is usually related to a variety of lifestyle and genetic factors. For example, menopausal women tend to exercise less than other women, which can lead to weight gain. In addition, muscle mass naturally diminishes with age. If you don't do anything to replace the lean muscle you lose, your body composition will shift to more fat and less muscle — which slows down the rate at which you burn calories. If you continue to eat as you always have, you're likely to gain weight. For many women, genetic factors play a role in weight gain after menopause. If your parents or other close relatives carry extra weight around the abdomen, you're likely to do the same. Sometimes, factors such as children leaving — or returning — home, divorce, the death of a spouse or other life changes may contribute to weight gain after menopause. For others, a sense of contentment or simply letting go leads to weight gain.”
http:mayoclinic.com
Wow. That last sentence-”...a sense of contentment or simply letting go leads to weight gain...” -speaks volumes to me. Up until the last few years, I felt unfinished, unsatisfied, unhappy and hopeless. Now, I am content, happy, thrilled at the simple joy of my life. Inner peace has replaced inner turmoil-and, according to the Mayo Clinic piece above, this may have contributed in some way to my weight gain. I do remember thinking that if I had a choice to be either fat and completely happy or skinny and miserable, it would be a difficult choice for me. Now I think, can’t I have both? Can’t my happiness and joy translate into energy spent exercising and eating less? My pride in my accomplishments and my wonder at the chance for renewal can be my motivating factors.
Oh lord I am hungry. I’m trying to study this geology-I’m trying to let these words just drift gently into my brain but it’s very hard. And Chuck likes to play his music really loud. He’s down in the basement in his studio and blasting The Who. I just want to eat. Now it’s time for me to live through this hunger and really understand what it does to me emotionally. When I was a little girl, I remember turning to food without thought. It made me feel better. I felt happy for that time that I was eating.
I remember loving cereal with lots of sugar, saltines with margarine and jelly and potato chips. And of course, ice cream and cupcakes and cookies. Anything and everything that would fill up the insides of my insecure stomach. I remember that as a toddler, I used to climb on top of the countertop and crawl into the cupboards at home to get food to eat. Why was I so hungry?
“Loss of control (LOC) eating in youth is associated cross-sectionally with eating-related and psychosocial distress and is predictive of excessive weight gain. However, few longitudinal studies have examined the psychological impact and persistence of pediatric LOC eating. We administered the Eating Disorder Examination and self-reported measures of depressive and anxiety symptoms to 195 boys and girls (mean age = 10.4 years, SD = 1.5) at baseline and again 4.7 years (SD = 1.2) later to 118 of these youth. Missing data were imputed. Baseline report of LOC was associated with the development of partial- or full-syndrome binge eating disorder (p =.03), even after accounting for the contribution of sex, race, baseline characteristics (age, disordered eating attitudes, and mood symptoms), body mass index growth between baseline and follow-up, and years in study. Half (52.2%; 95% Cl [1.15, 6.22]) of children who endorsed experiencing LOC at baseline reported persistence of LOC at follow-up (p = .02). Compared with children who never reported LOC eating or reported LOC only at baseline, those with persistent LOC experienced significantly greater increases in disordered eating attitudes (ps < .00 1) and depressive symptoms (p = .027) over time. These data suggest that LOC eating in children is a problematic behavior that frequently persists into adolescence and that persistent LOC eating is associated with worsening of emotional distress. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]”
Tanofsky-Kraff M, Shomaker L, Yanovski J, et al. A Prospective Study of Pediatric Loss of Control Eating and Psychological Outcomes. Journal of Abnormal Psychology [serial online]. February 2011;120(1):108-118. Available from: Academic Search Premier, Ipswich, MA. Accessed March 5, 2011.
According to this study, “LOC eating in children is a problematic behavior that frequently persists into adolescence and that persistent LOC eating is associated with worsening of emotional distress.” Yes-I would agree. Whatever it is - whatever prompted me to cope with everything by eating, has stayed with me my entire life. It has been so pervasive that I didn’t start eating with others until just recently (within the last few years).
Here is a picture of me in 1973-I was twelve. I remember the shirt and jumper I wore. It was picture day, of course, and we got to wear what we wanted. I went to Catholic school so normally we wore white blouses and green plaid jumpers. A few weeks ago my mom sent me the obituary of one of my grade school teachers, Brandon Crawford, who taught at St. Mike’s. Yes, mom, I remember Brandon Crawford. In every classroom, there’s always the broken chair, or the desk that jiggles because the frame is coming loose. And it never gets fixed; it just rotates around the class because whoever ends up with it just moves it over to another spot. I came in late to Mr. Crawford’s class one day, and sat in the broken chair that had migrated to every desk in class until it ended up at mine. I sat on the chair and it finally collapsed, the metal worn away just enough to completely break apart when I put my weight on it. The entire class erupted in fits of laughter, and that included Mr. Crawford. I could feel my eyes sting and my heart beating faster until I couldn’t breathe. He yelled at me over the noise of people hooting and told me to carry the chair down to the janitor’s office and get another one. I hated him from then on. Mom, I do not care that he’s died. In fact, I was happy to see the notice and threw it in the wastebasket.
March 6
Today I didn’t exercise-we got up early, went grocery shopping, picked up Layla, and drove out to my parents’ house to celebrate their 65th wedding anniversary. Well, their retirement community, to be exact.
After the party, we went upstairs to their condo and played on their new Mac computer. We took photos with the photo booth application.
This first picture is me with Layla, my daughter Veronica on the left, and my son’s girlfriend Diana on the right. The second picture is my son, Corey with Layla and Diana in the background. I like to think that Layla has a great time with us. I’m certainly in love with her.
This picture is of her and my daughter, Veronica. She can’t quite say ‘Veronica’, so she says “oica”. Which is close, I guess.
March 7
I went straight from work to a meeting with Professor Lekas, then to a study session for Geol 1001, then to my Documentary Cinema Class. And then home-to a couple of tired teenagers and my sweet sweet husband. Obviously, no exercise today except for running back and forth to the building across the street to ‘babysit’ the external reviewers.
March 8
Second day of dealing with the external reviewers. Then I had to scramble to get to my lab class for a midterm. I did okay-there were some questions I was absolutely sure about, and some that did not spark anything in my brain. I stopped at Walter Library to eat a sandwich before heading over to NIcholson Hall for the Geol 1001 lecture.
March 9
I was so tired when I got home, I went to bed immediately and didn’t get up until 7P when we had dinner. This semester is really kicking my ass.
March 10
I did circuit training on the bike last night. So exhausting but I feel thinner. I was so hungry last night. I wanted to binge - for some reason we have tons of cookies right now. Girl Scout cookies, homemade chocolate chip, store bought cookies...a lot of options to choose from. But I can’t-I keep seeing myself as the pictures above and it scares me. Getting old scares me. Being unattractive. I used to be pretty good-looking, I guess. Or should I say, I was younger, more outrageous and therefore, got attention more. Maybe not necessarily for my looks but for the whole package. People would say I looked like Chrissie Hynde from the Pretenders, which I loved, but I don’t think it was anything other than the fact that I had bangs.
March 11
I’ve got a pretty cool boss and a great job. It’s hard work, but it satisfies the control freak in me. I’m in charge of his calendar, so I
March 13
I weighed 133 this morning (Probably 135 on the scale at the rec center-don’t know for sure, but will check sometime). I exercised hard this morning. When I work out on my bike, I always watch “30 Rock” because I adore Tina Fey and she makes me laugh. One of the episodes I watched told the story of Jack Donaughy, played by Alec Baldwin, and his remembrance of a birthday party when he was young. He spent the episode mourning the fact that he wasn’t as happy as he was as a kid. I cannot relate to that feeling at all. I was a miserable kid. I was extremely unhappy-felt very much like an outsider, a weirdo and felt trapped in my situation. It seemed like the person I wanted to be and the person I was were so far apart. Now, I am perfectly content with my life. I am so lucky to be healthy with a healthy family, to have a job that helps support our household, and to live in a comfortable home. I adore my husband and my children. Some musician friends of mine called one of their albums “My ass-kicking life”, which pretty much sums up how I feel about my life right now.
March 15
Massive headache yesterday and today. I stayed home from work yesterday and came home after lunch today to sleep. I feel better now.
March 16
I stopped at a thrift shop on the way home and picked up a stroller, a potty chair and a swimsuit for Layla. We’re picking her up on Saturday and if the weather is nice, we can go for a walk around the lake. The snow is finally melting. The sun feels good and I went for a walk during lunch.
50th BIRTHDAY WAKE UP CALL!!!! I’m experiencing this odd transformation. I am taking a cold, hard look at myself and thinking about things I want to change or improve. My posture and my weight, of course, but then-most specifically-I want to have my two most prominent tattoos removed. I’m tired of them. I’m tired of what they signify. I am no longer the rocker chick who wants to visibly alter her body. It is my belief that people ‘modify’ their bodies based on their level of detachment from their body. I know that many will disagree and at an earlier time in my life, I would have been the loudest dissenting voice to that opinion. But over the years, I have come to my own conclusions.
My earliest body-hating episodes were when I was small and being teased for being fat. I cried in my bed, wishing I could cut my stomach off with a knife or a scissors. I think I was probably six or seven. I never actually took a scissors to my stomach, but I did cry to my mom, whose response was to cry herself. Even at six years old, this seemed like an entirely inappropriate reaction to another person’s pain. I was confused and decided then that I should never tell her anything because I didn’t want to make her upset. So I never did. She spent the rest of the years of my childhood and adolescence blissfully unaware of the depths of my depression.
When I binged on food as a teenager, I would slice my arms with razors. It could be that I was looking to punish myself for overeating, but I have learned that there is an endorphin rush from cutting into skin. Having another sensation to concentrate on other than an uncomfortably full stomach is a welcome feeling, even if it’s a stinging sensation. Since my pain wasn’t recognized by anyone, I had to validate it myself with blood.
The lived experience of adolescent females who self-injure by cutting “...The themes which emerged were living with childhood trauma, feeling abandoned, being an outsider, loathing self, silently screaming, releasing the pressure, feeling alive, being ashamed, and being hopeful for self and others. The general structure that emerged from a synthesis of the themes was that the experience of self-injury by cutting for adolescent females is one where they are struggling for well-being and hoping for more being by using their skin as a canvas upon which internal pain is expressed as tangible and real.”
Lesniak, Rhonda Goodman: Florida Atlantic U., US. Dissertation Abstracts International: Section B: The Sciences and Engineering. Vol. 69 (11-B), 2009, pp. 6698
I got a tattoo when I was eighteen. It was a sad little rose on my shoulder. Not pretty or particularly well done, it signified some kind of rebellion. If I remember correctly, it was $35. Once I turned 30, I wanted more tattoos and got a strange abstract doodle on my chest, and then a larger tattoo to cover the rose on my shoulder of a moon and sun. I cannot wait to get them burned off. I want to look normal again. Actually, I want to look like the me I am now.
March 18
I had the day off of work today so I spent the morning running errands. Once I got home I saw that there was a message on my phone. My ex-husband had left a voicemail that he was in the hospital and wouldn’t be home when my youngest got out of school. He lives close to her school, and some days she would walk to his house instead of taking the bus home to my house. I found out he had been admitted and waited until the kids got out of school until we went down to see him. My oldest son, Corey, was already there. Steve had a mild heart attack and it was determined that he has 70% blockage in his lower left ventricle. Fortunately, it looks good for a full recovery and he needs, more than anything, to lose weight and start exercising. He is enormously fat. I am really fighting a binge right now. I feel so sorry for him. When we met, he came on like a freight train, rattling everything in sight. He’s got a bigger-than-life personality and appears to have all under control. After 15 years together (12 married) it was slowly revealed to me that he did not have anything under control. Living with him was like riding on the back of a flatbed truck as it sped down a freeway. It was one crisis after another in our house, and for a long time I thrived on that craziness. I was so attracted to the adrenaline rush and the uncertainty of each day. In twelve-step jargon, we had a dangerously toxic co-dependent relationship. Somehow, we raised my son, Corey, and had my two beautiful daughters throughout those years, so I was lucky enough to have that experience. But, Steve is not well neither mentally nor physically. After being unceremoniously fired from his job (as the talent booker at First Avenue for 34 years) he has struggled. I see it and I try to remain compassionate as I remind myself that he needs to take on the task of rebuilding his life on his own. We separated in 2003 and he was fired in 2004.
And now I want to eat. I want to stuff my face.
March 21
The weekend flew by. I weighed 133 on Saturday morning (135 on other scales?). On Saturday we picked up Layla and had her for the day. I love being the grandma. I love it. It’s better than being mom. And the more I think about this relationship, the more I realize that a big element of the joy comes from both Chuck and I grandparenting together. I love calling him grandpa and watching him play on the living room floor with Layla.
I exercised hard on Sunday and then did homework and laundry. I tried to explain to Chuck the feelings I had when I saw Steve in the hospital and I felt frustrated that he couldn’t fully understand. But, one of the biggest gifts that age has given me, is the idea that it’s okay if someone else doesn’t completely appreciate the pain or severity of a situation. It’s enough for me to understand and handle it myself. And I did handle it. I didn’t binge on food. I let myself experience the feelings of regret, shame, anger, sadness and concern without buffering them. And now, I’m okay with it.
March 22
Today I’m very excited because my friend, Arjo, is in town from Rotterdam with two bands that she manages. I met her and her partner Marcel back in 2000 in Seattle at a music conference of female rockers and since then have remained friends. They had a band called “Handsome 3Some” with her on guitar and vocals and Marcel on drums. I visited her and Marcel in Rotterdam in 2005. Arjo insisted I visit Paris and helped me arrange a flight and hotel. The trip was a life-changing experience for me. I navigated Paris alone, with a limited knowledge of French. Being in a country where I was the in the minority was something I had never experienced.
March 24
I met Arjo and the band Tuesday night after class at the Anchor. The boys went back to their hotel and Arjo came home to stay at my house overnight.
R to L: Veronica, Arjo, Lulu, me
Since Wednesday’s weather was horrendous (snow, sleet, cold) I invited Arjo and the band back to my house for the day.
R to L: Rocco, Torre, Vendren, Duende, Arjo, Victor, Tim and Jop.
March 26
I can’t believe I weighed 133 again today. No movement on the scale at all. I’m not eating very much and working out. This is such a struggle.
March 27
We spent the whole day yesterday shopping for a headboard and dresser for Lulu’s room, and a bed-type situation for when Layla stays overnight. By the end of the day, we had looked in eight stores. I’m glad that Chuck and I are pretty cheap. I feel an even newer motivation to save money because I figured out how much I would be living on in retirement if I didn’t kick in a bunch to my retirement starting NOW. Maybe I won’t get the tattoos removed. The cost would be roughly $1500-2000 and now I don’t know if it’s worth it.
When I was married to Steve, I paid no attention to our money. I came from living on public assistance when I had Corey, and once I moved in with Steve, we kept our separate bank accounts. I kept my own checking account and deposited the child support checks I got and the cash from my jobs cleaning houses. But I never saw a bill or a mortgage statement. I cannot believe how stupid and naive I was. I do remember asking him if I could look at the bills, but he was very defensive about it. Also, all the bills went to his office at First Avenue, so I never saw them. This was more out of convenience for him, as throughout his adult life, he spent most of his time there and the address never changed, unlike his own living situations. So I don’t fault him for that, but he could have brought them home for me to see. But, our roles were defined in different ways.
I had known Steve from my days
March 30
So tired. I had a midterm Monday night and a test in Geology on Tuesday night. I made a decision at some point during class that I was going to eat chocolate when I got home. It was a very dispassionate decision, and once I got home I was ready to binge. All we had were some Swedish chocolates I got as a gift a few weeks ago that I stored in the freezer. I’m sure they were delicious but I didn’t really taste them as I was eating them. The feelings I had were more self-righteous, i.e., “I deserve this”. It was a less than satisfying event. I have no idea if this will affect my weight this week. Blah.
Lulu was crying. It was hard to get her to express what she was feeling, so I was at a loss as to what to say or do. The one thing I absolutely do not do is take her pain for myself. My mother used to do that when I came to her for comfort. I remember crying and then I remember her crying.
I am so hungry, but I don’t want to eat anything. It’s only 320P and I’m falling asleep at my desk. I need to stay until 5P today to make up for the hour I leave early to go to class.
March 31
I went to bed the minute I got home from work, woke up for dinner, and then went back to bed. I was in a bad mood but couldn’t determine why. I did feel grumpy because I realized I got 88% percent on my midterm and I was complaining about it in front of Lulu. This morning when I got up I realized that the kids watch me get mad at myself when I get lower than an A on a test-this behavior completely undermines my trying to tell the girls not to be concerned when a bad grade pops up. Now, in addition to me feeling bad about the grade, I feel bad about the example I’m setting for the kids.
I weighed myself at the gym today and the number was 134. That’s five and half pounds down since February 21. Not bad-at least I have that to feel good about. All this work is paying off.
April 1
Where is Spring? It’s gloomy and cold. We won’t have Layla this weekend because she’s sick but we’ll have her next weekend. I guess I should be happy that frees up a little time for me but I’m still disappointed. It’s fun to have her over. She’s a good distraction from the everyday stresses.
Chuck had a portfolio review at the MIA today. He’s working pre
April 2
There is finally some movement on the home scale. I weighed 131.5 today. I feel much more motivated now that I see results.
Week 1
Week 6
I drove out with my girls to see my parents today. It was my mom’s birthday last Saturday but I had too much schoolwork to take the day to visit them. My parents are exhausting. Due to a foot injury, my father cannot move quickly or without pain. I can’t quite figure out what I feel when I see my mother. Her demeanor frustrates me. She constantly apologizes, puts herself down and deflects any kind of caring or emotion. It is exhausting to be in the same room with her. I feel so badly when I think these things but I can’t help it. It’s exhausting to breathe the same air as my parents. When I came home, I didn’t even hang up my coat before I grabbed a dozen cookies and started eating them. I did feel better afterwards. But guilty about the food.
April 4
Oh god I was so hungry last night. When I got home from class I had an apple with some peanut butter. We saw “Client 9” in class and I thought it was a good movie-After class I walked to the parking lot with a woman who sits next to me in class. Starting with the first day, she would sit right next to me and I couldn’t understand why when there were 250 seats in the room. As time has gone on, I’ve gotten comfortable with her. I keep forgetting there is a reason why people come into your life-there are lessons to be learned from every experience.
I got a letter today from my friend Jonathan. He’s a musician that I’ve been friends with since 1993. We’ve had our ups and downs as friends. He’s a very giving person, but he’s also got a lot of idiosyncrasies. As a lifelong musician, he’s got wisdom about a lot of things, but not necessarily common sense. Last time he was in town he kept talking about how everyone should stay away from the Internet because he believes it’s evil. This is a comfortable stance for him because he doesn’t really need to use it do his work. For me, I need it for work every single day, so I just keep quiet. It would be useless to talk to him about it. On the other hand, he’s seen my ex-husband and I go through hell with each other, and has always been supportive to both of us. Anyway, Jonathan is coming to town to play in May, and I’ll probably go to the show. In the past it’s been a regular thing for him and I to meet for breakfast the next day, but last time he made plans to meet my ex, Steve, for breakfast and it caught me by surprise. I started crying. Isn’t that bizarre? It threw me for a loop and of course, when men are confronted with tears they are paralyzed with fear. So, when I heard Jonathan was coming to town to play, I told my husband I probably wouldn’t go because I felt so embarrassed. But, because he wrote me to tell me he was coming, I feel like I should go to see him. I’ll write him back and ask if we could have coffee this time.
In my 20’s, I found myself intentionally choosing men who reinforced my inner beliefs that I was incompetent and crazy. Even when I was an average weight for my height, I still held on to the belief that I was flawed in a very fundamental way, and that somehow made the prospect of being truly loved just for myself an impossibility. Not only did I choose men who treated me badly, I didn’t think I deserved better. It wasn’t until I was in my mid-40’s did I understand that I was a worthwhile person.
April 6
I’m doing well on the geology lecture quizzes but not so great on the labs. I normally go early to class to get a good seat and relax but yesterday there was a lecture in the room so I had to wait. One of my past instructors had been at the lecture and walked over to say hello. I was surprised she recognized me but I suppose I stick out as one of the most non-traditional of the non-traditional undergrad students. At first I was a little uncomfortable seeing her because all I remember of that class was that I had a real bitchy attitude. It was my second attempt in 24 years to finish two consecutive semesters of French. And I was très malheureux.
April 7
I am so hungry.
April 8
I am having a great day. I’m feeling energetic and optimistic. Life is good.
April 9
I woke up this morning and I weighed 131. It feels good. It feels like the work I’ve been doing is paying off.
We picked up Layla last night for the weekend. She did not want to go to bed. I had forgotten how little children suck the life force right out of your soul. It’s hard for me to remember having a newborn, a four-year old and a teenage boy all at the same time. Of course back then I didn’t work 40+ hours a week and attend school. Different times. Different motivations. I love my life now. I love feeling competent and enjoy having people depend on me.
I finally feel in control of my life-and by in control I don’t mean having a vice-like grip on those around me.
April 10
Jane, one of our professors, lost her father last week and her mother than died this week. They had been married 71 years. I got an email from my friend Carla, who lived across the street from me in my last house. One of the little boys in the neighborhood, Connor, died last week from a mysterious infection. He was eight years old. I cannot imagine what I would do if my husband or one of my children died.
April 11
I binged yesterday. I had a blistering migraine after chauffeuring Lulu around from school to a doctor appointment and back to her father’s house. I just couldn’t bring myself to head back to campus for class. I thought I could watch the documentary being shown that night on YouTube but unfortunately, while it was posted in its entirety, it was in Spanish. The film is on reserve at Walter, so I’m stopping by today to pick it up.
I ate cereal and chips. It was a half-hearted binge. I didn’t feel desperation and afterwards just felt bloated and uncomfortable.
April 14, 2011
Because I’ve been insanely busy this past week, I am looking forward to going home and relaxing tonight. After driving Lulu around with a splitting headache Monday afternoon after work, I had Tuesday’s work and then classes until 9P. On Wednesday I had several meetings, worked late and then finished my extra credit assignment at the Science Museum.
I got a call from my son, Corey. He’s graduating next month and has found himself with no place to live after April 30. His current batch of roommates are moving out and after renting a duplex for three years, he’s tired of having to constantly replace them. So, he’s moving into the basement. It’s been nearly ten years since we’ve lived under the same roof and I’m anticipating a honeymoon period at first, then frustration. We have had a complicated relationship.
On the bright side, I weighed myself at the gym today and I weighed 129 ½. I’m pretty pumped about that. That’s ten pounds less than what I weighed in February.
April 16
Today I sit on my butt and write all day. But, given the bad weather (snow?!!??) today, it seems like a perfect day to stay inside.
Chuck is extremely tense these days. He’s getting ready for the big McKnight show and feeling the push to have everything done and perfect. I love him so much. I love his strength and his determination. I love his self-awareness and his natural tendency to search for knowledge and truth in everything he does. His energies are not spent in outward manifestations of who he wants to appear to be, but inward, where it is most profound and elemental. He’s a true artist in that he wishes to explore the realities of what he observes and express it through his elegant photography.
April 17
Here are some ‘progress pictures’ with the first ones taken back in February for comparison.
My back looks so much better. The difference between the first ‘back’ photo and the recent one is amazing. I feel it is a real testament to the power of what a person can do if they set a goal. The body is an incredible machine. It is open to change and open to improvement-even at the age of 50. This gives me hope in my life that I can hold in my heart.
April 20
I’m so tired and hungry. I feel a little helpless. I also feel the crunch with the end of the semester. I’ve got two finals and three quizzes and this documentary project to finish.
Today I registered for the fall semester and I’ll be in classes three nights a week but at least on Tuesday and Thursday I’ll be out of class before.
February 21
I’ve struggled with my weight all my life. I’ve weighed as much as 155 lbs at the age of 14 and as little as 78 lbs a year later, when I was 15. I’ve had a complicated relationship with food that has sent me into very dark places at both ends of the extreme. During my pregnancies I weighed in the 180’s and during my first marriage stayed at roughly 150. When I left my first husband in 2003, I weighed 138 lbs. A year later, I weighed 123 lbs. When I remarried in 2009, I weighed 130. And today, when I stopped by the gym and weighed myself, I weighed 139 ½. I’ll be fifty years old in October of 2011, and I’ve set a goal to weigh 130 on that day. I’m starting now-it’s February 21 and this will be my documentary project for the next eleven weeks of class. This will be a journal of my daily struggle with my weight in which I choose to examine the link between my self-esteem and my weight.
Cast:
My dear husband, Chuck. He’s a photographer and music lover and the most wonderful person alive. And my best friend.
My son, Corey, who’s 27 and a filmmaker. He’s a truly lovely person and I’m so proud of him.
My daughters, Lulu and Veronica. Veronica turns 13 in May and Lulu turns 17 in June. I will be so sad when they leave home.
I was a chubby little girl. That’s all I knew-I was never quite felt right or like I belonged. I felt that I needed to make extra efforts in order to be accepted or liked, so I was the nicest, the funniest and the happiest girl. My parents seemed ashamed of me because of my weight, so my self-worth was dependant on getting approval from them or from anyone, actually. In grade school, I worked hard to get straight A’s in every class and always volunteered for extra work or extra credit. What I did really never seemed to be enough to fit in, and I still felt like an outcast because of my size. I walked to kindergarten every day and had to pass a house where a boy would yell out ‘Fatty fatty two-by-four, can’t get through the kitchen door’ at me when I walked by. After school one day, I heard him call out to me and I just kept walking, not turning back. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he was behind me on his bike with a big black dog running beside him. I started to run and the dog came chasing after me and barking. He was yelling at me to run fast, little fatty, run fast. I was horrified that the dog would bite me and began to scream and cry and run as fast as I could. At some point he turned around and went back home. I was six years old. He was probably twelve. As the mother of three kids, I try to imagine what I would do if I saw my six year old run into the house crying. Probably comfort her? Ask her what was wrong? I’ve asked my mother about this and she doesn’t remember this at all. But I remember it like it was yesterday.
I was very creative when I was young. I wanted to dance and sing. I went to dance classes and art classes. I remember lying on the floor of our living room and drawing pictures. I used to draw pictures of skinny girls. Skinny girls with straight hair that was parted down the middle wearing (what was called back then) hip-hugger jeans. I was born in 1961, so my formative years were the 70’s, with platform shoes and drop waisted mini dresses. I had to buy clothes in the “chubby” girls section of the store, or at Lane Bryant. I used to sing all the time. I loved Carole King, Linda Ronstadt and the Carpenters.
February 26
Today I weighed myself when I woke up. The number was 135.5-the scale at the gym was two pounds heavier so I’m going to give myself the extra two as the count for today: 137.5
I had my 12 year old take a picture of me in my exercise gear before I went downstairs to workout.
I’d like to take a critical look at this picture. Of course I wore black for its forgiving qualities, but there is still the ability to see my body. I find myself wanting to say “problem areas” or worse-things like “bulges”, “flab”, and “fat”. First off, I’m going to refrain from commenting on points that are permanent and will not change with weight loss and exercise. For example, the well-deserved fifty-year old wrinkles on my face and neck. This project does not include expensive plastic surgery. Also, there’s a basic body shape that I need to accept. Narrow shoulders and hips and tendency to store weight around my middle. I also have spinal issue that affects my upper back and causes me to slouch. Over time I’ve worked on strengthening my upper body muscles to try and correct the imbalance as much as possible.
I felt good this morning when I got up. Ready and excited to start on this project. I did 21 minutes of interval training-which was torturous at first but got a little easier as it went on. I then did 15 minutes of core work. I haven’t done any strenuous exercise in a few months. In the summer I would bike around the lakes and cover about 25 miles. A few days a week at work I walk with a friend over lunch break and two days a week go to a Pilates class at the gym. I have an exercise bike at home and bicycle as much as I can. Since January, I’ve been roller-skating at the dome on Friday nights. Not roller blading but roller-skating. Old school quads-it’s fun. Anyway, I realized I need to kick this half-ass regime up a notch and mean business. I just need to keep this outside of my emotions and my crazy-ness.
February 27
I just finished my workout this morning. Bleh. I try to break it down in bite-size (no pun intended) terms. One 21 minute session of interval training, one 15 minute exercise video...it’s really not that much of a time commitment.
Last night I had dinner with my old bandmates. We played together throughout the eighties and nineties and except for Krystal, haven’t played in many years. We have dinner once a month alternating houses. Last night Amy made a tremendous meal with steamed asparagus and crepes. I made a point to taste the food and let my reach satiety. I’ve heard it takes 20 minutes for the signal to reach your brain that you are full. I get distracted easily and as long as there is food on my plate, I’ve kept eating without thinking.
It’s strange to look around at the table and see us getting older. Gray hair, extra pounds around the middle, wrinkled faces. But-it’s good-it’s grounding and it’s a reassuring place to be. We see each other struggle through crises and provide a safe place to talk.
I wonder how this week is going to go-I’m gone all day Monday and Tuesday-first at work then to class. It’s so tiring.
February 28
Long day at work, then Documentary Cinema class at 6P. I do my best not to think about how long it will take to finish my degree by taking two classes a semester. I’ve got 30 credits to go, so it would be another two years. But that’s closer than I was last year, or the year before. I just put my head down and keep going.
I get overwhelmed and cry-when my husband would be pick me up after French class I would cry in the car all the way home. That was a two-semester ordeal. Now I’m taking Geology 1001 and while I really enjoy the lectures, the lab sessions are excruciating. I’m sitting at a table with girls the same age as my daughter, and they are rushing through all the work so they can leave early. It takes me a few minutes to process new ideas and to let concepts make sense in my mind. These girls fly through the group work and scram as soon as they can. I feel like an outsider-just as much as I did when I was back in elementary school and junior high. I fight the insecurity because I know my input and my presence is valuable and important. I wish I knew how to do that when I was a kid constantly being teased about my weight.
I got home and did some upper body weight training with a video.
March 1
I decided to do take my time in lab and not give in to the pressure I felt from the other students at my table. I took my time and I did what I needed to do to understand the lesson. Then I went to the geology lecture and found out I got a 20/20 on the last quiz. Yippee! But-this victory is short-lived; I have a lab midterm and a quiz in the lecture class. Not looking forward to Tuesday.
It was nice to go home and crawl into bed next to my husband. So tired. No exercise today other than lots of walking.
March 2
Had to run over to the West Bank to set up a teleconference meeting for my boss, Bob. I really enjoy my job. In fact, I really enjoy my life-I love my life. Never in a million years did I think I would end up with a nice home, a sweet husband, happy kids and a fulfilling life. It could be that what makes a person happier changes when they get older. Little things make me happy now. Waking up next to my husband every morning and going to sleep next to him every night makes me happy.
In a final attempt at ‘finding’ a partner, I wrote an online ad. But this was a different ad than the ones I had written before. The ads I had written before were vague, casting a wide net across what I envisioned to be a waiting pool of eligible, fantastic, self-assured and handsome men. These attempts were futile, and the cross-section of barely acceptable responses were disappointing. My approach to this final ad was much like shopping online. I ‘ordered’ a man between specific ages, divorced with kids, with specific musical and cinema tastes, and most importantly, with the intention of creating a future together. I received only two responses. Chuck answered first, and when I clicked on his profile, his picture took my breath away. Gorgeous.
In my 20’s, I was so sure I was going to be a rock star. I was so sure that since I was so tortured as a kid, I was going to be the biggest star to make up for it.
That’s me, in the fringe vest circa 1987. I loved being on stage-now the thought of it seems so unusual. I wrote and sang songs and played guitar. In the early 90’s I lived in New York for awhile, playing with studio musicians and producers who played with Keith Richards, Iggy Pop, the Indigo Girls, the B52’s-just about everyone who either used studio musicians or needed a song or album produced. It didn’t work out. I came back to Minneapolis, got married and had two girls with my first husband who was in the music business. He managed the nightclub First Avenue for 34 years before being unjustly fired in 2004. We married in 1993, and the divorce was final in 2006.
I got home after a long day around 645P. Chuck had dinner ready. Sitting around the dinner table with my husband and teenage daughters is another wonderful part of my day. After dinner, the girls cleaned up the kitchen and I did interval training on the bike and then some core work and then read a book for class. I’m beat.
March 3
This afternoon my husband and I met with my lawyer from my divorce. Chuck’s ex-wife is threatening take him to court to have his alimony payments increased to cover the amount she’s going to lose when Chuck’s youngest son turns 18 and the child support payments stop. What we worry about is that through her angry rants about us not paying more money, she’ll jeopardize our relationship with Chuck’s granddaughter Layla (who also lives in the home along with her mom). We started picking her up on Sundays. I don’t want to give that up.
Anyway, did my cardio on my exercise bike and lifted weights for a little while. I still feel fat. I don’t like my body shape. What does that mean? What would the world be like if we didn’t have mirrors or scales? How would my life be different if I wasn’t ruled by the scale?
March 4
It was a very long day. I’m preparing for a group of external reviewers to come in and do a study of one of our grad programs. I’m in charge of the details-scheduled meetings, locations, food, hotel, etc. This starts first thing Monday morning, so it will be a long Monday and Tuesday, because I also have class Monday night and Tuesday night. And Tuesday’s classes I’ve got a midterm and a quiz. Yup. It’s going to be crazy next week.
I’m going to bed early. No exercise today.
March 5
I cannot believe this. I didn’t lose a pound this week. I weighed myself this morning and I weighed 135.5. How is that even possible? I exercised five out of the last seven days and ate normally. Okay. I have to eat less than what I’m eating and still exercise. Ugh.
“The hormonal changes of menopause may make you more likely to gain weight around your abdomen, rather than your hips and thighs. Hormonal changes alone don't necessarily trigger weight gain after menopause, however. Instead, the weight gain is usually related to a variety of lifestyle and genetic factors. For example, menopausal women tend to exercise less than other women, which can lead to weight gain. In addition, muscle mass naturally diminishes with age. If you don't do anything to replace the lean muscle you lose, your body composition will shift to more fat and less muscle — which slows down the rate at which you burn calories. If you continue to eat as you always have, you're likely to gain weight. For many women, genetic factors play a role in weight gain after menopause. If your parents or other close relatives carry extra weight around the abdomen, you're likely to do the same. Sometimes, factors such as children leaving — or returning — home, divorce, the death of a spouse or other life changes may contribute to weight gain after menopause. For others, a sense of contentment or simply letting go leads to weight gain.”
http:mayoclinic.com
Wow. That last sentence-”...a sense of contentment or simply letting go leads to weight gain...” -speaks volumes to me. Up until the last few years, I felt unfinished, unsatisfied, unhappy and hopeless. Now, I am content, happy, thrilled at the simple joy of my life. Inner peace has replaced inner turmoil-and, according to the Mayo Clinic piece above, this may have contributed in some way to my weight gain. I do remember thinking that if I had a choice to be either fat and completely happy or skinny and miserable, it would be a difficult choice for me. Now I think, can’t I have both? Can’t my happiness and joy translate into energy spent exercising and eating less? My pride in my accomplishments and my wonder at the chance for renewal can be my motivating factors.
Oh lord I am hungry. I’m trying to study this geology-I’m trying to let these words just drift gently into my brain but it’s very hard. And Chuck likes to play his music really loud. He’s down in the basement in his studio and blasting The Who. I just want to eat. Now it’s time for me to live through this hunger and really understand what it does to me emotionally. When I was a little girl, I remember turning to food without thought. It made me feel better. I felt happy for that time that I was eating.
I remember loving cereal with lots of sugar, saltines with margarine and jelly and potato chips. And of course, ice cream and cupcakes and cookies. Anything and everything that would fill up the insides of my insecure stomach. I remember that as a toddler, I used to climb on top of the countertop and crawl into the cupboards at home to get food to eat. Why was I so hungry?
“Loss of control (LOC) eating in youth is associated cross-sectionally with eating-related and psychosocial distress and is predictive of excessive weight gain. However, few longitudinal studies have examined the psychological impact and persistence of pediatric LOC eating. We administered the Eating Disorder Examination and self-reported measures of depressive and anxiety symptoms to 195 boys and girls (mean age = 10.4 years, SD = 1.5) at baseline and again 4.7 years (SD = 1.2) later to 118 of these youth. Missing data were imputed. Baseline report of LOC was associated with the development of partial- or full-syndrome binge eating disorder (p =.03), even after accounting for the contribution of sex, race, baseline characteristics (age, disordered eating attitudes, and mood symptoms), body mass index growth between baseline and follow-up, and years in study. Half (52.2%; 95% Cl [1.15, 6.22]) of children who endorsed experiencing LOC at baseline reported persistence of LOC at follow-up (p = .02). Compared with children who never reported LOC eating or reported LOC only at baseline, those with persistent LOC experienced significantly greater increases in disordered eating attitudes (ps < .00 1) and depressive symptoms (p = .027) over time. These data suggest that LOC eating in children is a problematic behavior that frequently persists into adolescence and that persistent LOC eating is associated with worsening of emotional distress. [ABSTRACT FROM AUTHOR]”
Tanofsky-Kraff M, Shomaker L, Yanovski J, et al. A Prospective Study of Pediatric Loss of Control Eating and Psychological Outcomes. Journal of Abnormal Psychology [serial online]. February 2011;120(1):108-118. Available from: Academic Search Premier, Ipswich, MA. Accessed March 5, 2011.
According to this study, “LOC eating in children is a problematic behavior that frequently persists into adolescence and that persistent LOC eating is associated with worsening of emotional distress.” Yes-I would agree. Whatever it is - whatever prompted me to cope with everything by eating, has stayed with me my entire life. It has been so pervasive that I didn’t start eating with others until just recently (within the last few years).
Here is a picture of me in 1973-I was twelve. I remember the shirt and jumper I wore. It was picture day, of course, and we got to wear what we wanted. I went to Catholic school so normally we wore white blouses and green plaid jumpers. A few weeks ago my mom sent me the obituary of one of my grade school teachers, Brandon Crawford, who taught at St. Mike’s. Yes, mom, I remember Brandon Crawford. In every classroom, there’s always the broken chair, or the desk that jiggles because the frame is coming loose. And it never gets fixed; it just rotates around the class because whoever ends up with it just moves it over to another spot. I came in late to Mr. Crawford’s class one day, and sat in the broken chair that had migrated to every desk in class until it ended up at mine. I sat on the chair and it finally collapsed, the metal worn away just enough to completely break apart when I put my weight on it. The entire class erupted in fits of laughter, and that included Mr. Crawford. I could feel my eyes sting and my heart beating faster until I couldn’t breathe. He yelled at me over the noise of people hooting and told me to carry the chair down to the janitor’s office and get another one. I hated him from then on. Mom, I do not care that he’s died. In fact, I was happy to see the notice and threw it in the wastebasket.
March 6
Today I didn’t exercise-we got up early, went grocery shopping, picked up Layla, and drove out to my parents’ house to celebrate their 65th wedding anniversary. Well, their retirement community, to be exact.
After the party, we went upstairs to their condo and played on their new Mac computer. We took photos with the photo booth application.
This first picture is me with Layla, my daughter Veronica on the left, and my son’s girlfriend Diana on the right. The second picture is my son, Corey with Layla and Diana in the background. I like to think that Layla has a great time with us. I’m certainly in love with her.
This picture is of her and my daughter, Veronica. She can’t quite say ‘Veronica’, so she says “oica”. Which is close, I guess.
March 7
I went straight from work to a meeting with Professor Lekas, then to a study session for Geol 1001, then to my Documentary Cinema Class. And then home-to a couple of tired teenagers and my sweet sweet husband. Obviously, no exercise today except for running back and forth to the building across the street to ‘babysit’ the external reviewers.
March 8
Second day of dealing with the external reviewers. Then I had to scramble to get to my lab class for a midterm. I did okay-there were some questions I was absolutely sure about, and some that did not spark anything in my brain. I stopped at Walter Library to eat a sandwich before heading over to NIcholson Hall for the Geol 1001 lecture.
March 9
I was so tired when I got home, I went to bed immediately and didn’t get up until 7P when we had dinner. This semester is really kicking my ass.
March 10
I did circuit training on the bike last night. So exhausting but I feel thinner. I was so hungry last night. I wanted to binge - for some reason we have tons of cookies right now. Girl Scout cookies, homemade chocolate chip, store bought cookies...a lot of options to choose from. But I can’t-I keep seeing myself as the pictures above and it scares me. Getting old scares me. Being unattractive. I used to be pretty good-looking, I guess. Or should I say, I was younger, more outrageous and therefore, got attention more. Maybe not necessarily for my looks but for the whole package. People would say I looked like Chrissie Hynde from the Pretenders, which I loved, but I don’t think it was anything other than the fact that I had bangs.
March 11
I’ve got a pretty cool boss and a great job. It’s hard work, but it satisfies the control freak in me. I’m in charge of his calendar, so I
March 13
I weighed 133 this morning (Probably 135 on the scale at the rec center-don’t know for sure, but will check sometime). I exercised hard this morning. When I work out on my bike, I always watch “30 Rock” because I adore Tina Fey and she makes me laugh. One of the episodes I watched told the story of Jack Donaughy, played by Alec Baldwin, and his remembrance of a birthday party when he was young. He spent the episode mourning the fact that he wasn’t as happy as he was as a kid. I cannot relate to that feeling at all. I was a miserable kid. I was extremely unhappy-felt very much like an outsider, a weirdo and felt trapped in my situation. It seemed like the person I wanted to be and the person I was were so far apart. Now, I am perfectly content with my life. I am so lucky to be healthy with a healthy family, to have a job that helps support our household, and to live in a comfortable home. I adore my husband and my children. Some musician friends of mine called one of their albums “My ass-kicking life”, which pretty much sums up how I feel about my life right now.
March 15
Massive headache yesterday and today. I stayed home from work yesterday and came home after lunch today to sleep. I feel better now.
March 16
I stopped at a thrift shop on the way home and picked up a stroller, a potty chair and a swimsuit for Layla. We’re picking her up on Saturday and if the weather is nice, we can go for a walk around the lake. The snow is finally melting. The sun feels good and I went for a walk during lunch.
50th BIRTHDAY WAKE UP CALL!!!! I’m experiencing this odd transformation. I am taking a cold, hard look at myself and thinking about things I want to change or improve. My posture and my weight, of course, but then-most specifically-I want to have my two most prominent tattoos removed. I’m tired of them. I’m tired of what they signify. I am no longer the rocker chick who wants to visibly alter her body. It is my belief that people ‘modify’ their bodies based on their level of detachment from their body. I know that many will disagree and at an earlier time in my life, I would have been the loudest dissenting voice to that opinion. But over the years, I have come to my own conclusions.
My earliest body-hating episodes were when I was small and being teased for being fat. I cried in my bed, wishing I could cut my stomach off with a knife or a scissors. I think I was probably six or seven. I never actually took a scissors to my stomach, but I did cry to my mom, whose response was to cry herself. Even at six years old, this seemed like an entirely inappropriate reaction to another person’s pain. I was confused and decided then that I should never tell her anything because I didn’t want to make her upset. So I never did. She spent the rest of the years of my childhood and adolescence blissfully unaware of the depths of my depression.
When I binged on food as a teenager, I would slice my arms with razors. It could be that I was looking to punish myself for overeating, but I have learned that there is an endorphin rush from cutting into skin. Having another sensation to concentrate on other than an uncomfortably full stomach is a welcome feeling, even if it’s a stinging sensation. Since my pain wasn’t recognized by anyone, I had to validate it myself with blood.
The lived experience of adolescent females who self-injure by cutting “...The themes which emerged were living with childhood trauma, feeling abandoned, being an outsider, loathing self, silently screaming, releasing the pressure, feeling alive, being ashamed, and being hopeful for self and others. The general structure that emerged from a synthesis of the themes was that the experience of self-injury by cutting for adolescent females is one where they are struggling for well-being and hoping for more being by using their skin as a canvas upon which internal pain is expressed as tangible and real.”
Lesniak, Rhonda Goodman: Florida Atlantic U., US. Dissertation Abstracts International: Section B: The Sciences and Engineering. Vol. 69 (11-B), 2009, pp. 6698
I got a tattoo when I was eighteen. It was a sad little rose on my shoulder. Not pretty or particularly well done, it signified some kind of rebellion. If I remember correctly, it was $35. Once I turned 30, I wanted more tattoos and got a strange abstract doodle on my chest, and then a larger tattoo to cover the rose on my shoulder of a moon and sun. I cannot wait to get them burned off. I want to look normal again. Actually, I want to look like the me I am now.
March 18
I had the day off of work today so I spent the morning running errands. Once I got home I saw that there was a message on my phone. My ex-husband had left a voicemail that he was in the hospital and wouldn’t be home when my youngest got out of school. He lives close to her school, and some days she would walk to his house instead of taking the bus home to my house. I found out he had been admitted and waited until the kids got out of school until we went down to see him. My oldest son, Corey, was already there. Steve had a mild heart attack and it was determined that he has 70% blockage in his lower left ventricle. Fortunately, it looks good for a full recovery and he needs, more than anything, to lose weight and start exercising. He is enormously fat. I am really fighting a binge right now. I feel so sorry for him. When we met, he came on like a freight train, rattling everything in sight. He’s got a bigger-than-life personality and appears to have all under control. After 15 years together (12 married) it was slowly revealed to me that he did not have anything under control. Living with him was like riding on the back of a flatbed truck as it sped down a freeway. It was one crisis after another in our house, and for a long time I thrived on that craziness. I was so attracted to the adrenaline rush and the uncertainty of each day. In twelve-step jargon, we had a dangerously toxic co-dependent relationship. Somehow, we raised my son, Corey, and had my two beautiful daughters throughout those years, so I was lucky enough to have that experience. But, Steve is not well neither mentally nor physically. After being unceremoniously fired from his job (as the talent booker at First Avenue for 34 years) he has struggled. I see it and I try to remain compassionate as I remind myself that he needs to take on the task of rebuilding his life on his own. We separated in 2003 and he was fired in 2004.
And now I want to eat. I want to stuff my face.
March 21
The weekend flew by. I weighed 133 on Saturday morning (135 on other scales?). On Saturday we picked up Layla and had her for the day. I love being the grandma. I love it. It’s better than being mom. And the more I think about this relationship, the more I realize that a big element of the joy comes from both Chuck and I grandparenting together. I love calling him grandpa and watching him play on the living room floor with Layla.
I exercised hard on Sunday and then did homework and laundry. I tried to explain to Chuck the feelings I had when I saw Steve in the hospital and I felt frustrated that he couldn’t fully understand. But, one of the biggest gifts that age has given me, is the idea that it’s okay if someone else doesn’t completely appreciate the pain or severity of a situation. It’s enough for me to understand and handle it myself. And I did handle it. I didn’t binge on food. I let myself experience the feelings of regret, shame, anger, sadness and concern without buffering them. And now, I’m okay with it.
March 22
Today I’m very excited because my friend, Arjo, is in town from Rotterdam with two bands that she manages. I met her and her partner Marcel back in 2000 in Seattle at a music conference of female rockers and since then have remained friends. They had a band called “Handsome 3Some” with her on guitar and vocals and Marcel on drums. I visited her and Marcel in Rotterdam in 2005. Arjo insisted I visit Paris and helped me arrange a flight and hotel. The trip was a life-changing experience for me. I navigated Paris alone, with a limited knowledge of French. Being in a country where I was the in the minority was something I had never experienced.
March 24
I met Arjo and the band Tuesday night after class at the Anchor. The boys went back to their hotel and Arjo came home to stay at my house overnight.
R to L: Veronica, Arjo, Lulu, me
Since Wednesday’s weather was horrendous (snow, sleet, cold) I invited Arjo and the band back to my house for the day.
R to L: Rocco, Torre, Vendren, Duende, Arjo, Victor, Tim and Jop.
March 26
I can’t believe I weighed 133 again today. No movement on the scale at all. I’m not eating very much and working out. This is such a struggle.
March 27
We spent the whole day yesterday shopping for a headboard and dresser for Lulu’s room, and a bed-type situation for when Layla stays overnight. By the end of the day, we had looked in eight stores. I’m glad that Chuck and I are pretty cheap. I feel an even newer motivation to save money because I figured out how much I would be living on in retirement if I didn’t kick in a bunch to my retirement starting NOW. Maybe I won’t get the tattoos removed. The cost would be roughly $1500-2000 and now I don’t know if it’s worth it.
When I was married to Steve, I paid no attention to our money. I came from living on public assistance when I had Corey, and once I moved in with Steve, we kept our separate bank accounts. I kept my own checking account and deposited the child support checks I got and the cash from my jobs cleaning houses. But I never saw a bill or a mortgage statement. I cannot believe how stupid and naive I was. I do remember asking him if I could look at the bills, but he was very defensive about it. Also, all the bills went to his office at First Avenue, so I never saw them. This was more out of convenience for him, as throughout his adult life, he spent most of his time there and the address never changed, unlike his own living situations. So I don’t fault him for that, but he could have brought them home for me to see. But, our roles were defined in different ways.
I had known Steve from my days
March 30
So tired. I had a midterm Monday night and a test in Geology on Tuesday night. I made a decision at some point during class that I was going to eat chocolate when I got home. It was a very dispassionate decision, and once I got home I was ready to binge. All we had were some Swedish chocolates I got as a gift a few weeks ago that I stored in the freezer. I’m sure they were delicious but I didn’t really taste them as I was eating them. The feelings I had were more self-righteous, i.e., “I deserve this”. It was a less than satisfying event. I have no idea if this will affect my weight this week. Blah.
Lulu was crying. It was hard to get her to express what she was feeling, so I was at a loss as to what to say or do. The one thing I absolutely do not do is take her pain for myself. My mother used to do that when I came to her for comfort. I remember crying and then I remember her crying.
I am so hungry, but I don’t want to eat anything. It’s only 320P and I’m falling asleep at my desk. I need to stay until 5P today to make up for the hour I leave early to go to class.
March 31
I went to bed the minute I got home from work, woke up for dinner, and then went back to bed. I was in a bad mood but couldn’t determine why. I did feel grumpy because I realized I got 88% percent on my midterm and I was complaining about it in front of Lulu. This morning when I got up I realized that the kids watch me get mad at myself when I get lower than an A on a test-this behavior completely undermines my trying to tell the girls not to be concerned when a bad grade pops up. Now, in addition to me feeling bad about the grade, I feel bad about the example I’m setting for the kids.
I weighed myself at the gym today and the number was 134. That’s five and half pounds down since February 21. Not bad-at least I have that to feel good about. All this work is paying off.
April 1
Where is Spring? It’s gloomy and cold. We won’t have Layla this weekend because she’s sick but we’ll have her next weekend. I guess I should be happy that frees up a little time for me but I’m still disappointed. It’s fun to have her over. She’s a good distraction from the everyday stresses.
Chuck had a portfolio review at the MIA today. He’s working pre
April 2
There is finally some movement on the home scale. I weighed 131.5 today. I feel much more motivated now that I see results.
Week 1
Week 6
I drove out with my girls to see my parents today. It was my mom’s birthday last Saturday but I had too much schoolwork to take the day to visit them. My parents are exhausting. Due to a foot injury, my father cannot move quickly or without pain. I can’t quite figure out what I feel when I see my mother. Her demeanor frustrates me. She constantly apologizes, puts herself down and deflects any kind of caring or emotion. It is exhausting to be in the same room with her. I feel so badly when I think these things but I can’t help it. It’s exhausting to breathe the same air as my parents. When I came home, I didn’t even hang up my coat before I grabbed a dozen cookies and started eating them. I did feel better afterwards. But guilty about the food.
April 4
Oh god I was so hungry last night. When I got home from class I had an apple with some peanut butter. We saw “Client 9” in class and I thought it was a good movie-After class I walked to the parking lot with a woman who sits next to me in class. Starting with the first day, she would sit right next to me and I couldn’t understand why when there were 250 seats in the room. As time has gone on, I’ve gotten comfortable with her. I keep forgetting there is a reason why people come into your life-there are lessons to be learned from every experience.
I got a letter today from my friend Jonathan. He’s a musician that I’ve been friends with since 1993. We’ve had our ups and downs as friends. He’s a very giving person, but he’s also got a lot of idiosyncrasies. As a lifelong musician, he’s got wisdom about a lot of things, but not necessarily common sense. Last time he was in town he kept talking about how everyone should stay away from the Internet because he believes it’s evil. This is a comfortable stance for him because he doesn’t really need to use it do his work. For me, I need it for work every single day, so I just keep quiet. It would be useless to talk to him about it. On the other hand, he’s seen my ex-husband and I go through hell with each other, and has always been supportive to both of us. Anyway, Jonathan is coming to town to play in May, and I’ll probably go to the show. In the past it’s been a regular thing for him and I to meet for breakfast the next day, but last time he made plans to meet my ex, Steve, for breakfast and it caught me by surprise. I started crying. Isn’t that bizarre? It threw me for a loop and of course, when men are confronted with tears they are paralyzed with fear. So, when I heard Jonathan was coming to town to play, I told my husband I probably wouldn’t go because I felt so embarrassed. But, because he wrote me to tell me he was coming, I feel like I should go to see him. I’ll write him back and ask if we could have coffee this time.
In my 20’s, I found myself intentionally choosing men who reinforced my inner beliefs that I was incompetent and crazy. Even when I was an average weight for my height, I still held on to the belief that I was flawed in a very fundamental way, and that somehow made the prospect of being truly loved just for myself an impossibility. Not only did I choose men who treated me badly, I didn’t think I deserved better. It wasn’t until I was in my mid-40’s did I understand that I was a worthwhile person.
April 6
I’m doing well on the geology lecture quizzes but not so great on the labs. I normally go early to class to get a good seat and relax but yesterday there was a lecture in the room so I had to wait. One of my past instructors had been at the lecture and walked over to say hello. I was surprised she recognized me but I suppose I stick out as one of the most non-traditional of the non-traditional undergrad students. At first I was a little uncomfortable seeing her because all I remember of that class was that I had a real bitchy attitude. It was my second attempt in 24 years to finish two consecutive semesters of French. And I was très malheureux.
April 7
I am so hungry.
April 8
I am having a great day. I’m feeling energetic and optimistic. Life is good.
April 9
I woke up this morning and I weighed 131. It feels good. It feels like the work I’ve been doing is paying off.
We picked up Layla last night for the weekend. She did not want to go to bed. I had forgotten how little children suck the life force right out of your soul. It’s hard for me to remember having a newborn, a four-year old and a teenage boy all at the same time. Of course back then I didn’t work 40+ hours a week and attend school. Different times. Different motivations. I love my life now. I love feeling competent and enjoy having people depend on me.
I finally feel in control of my life-and by in control I don’t mean having a vice-like grip on those around me.
April 10
Jane, one of our professors, lost her father last week and her mother than died this week. They had been married 71 years. I got an email from my friend Carla, who lived across the street from me in my last house. One of the little boys in the neighborhood, Connor, died last week from a mysterious infection. He was eight years old. I cannot imagine what I would do if my husband or one of my children died.
April 11
I binged yesterday. I had a blistering migraine after chauffeuring Lulu around from school to a doctor appointment and back to her father’s house. I just couldn’t bring myself to head back to campus for class. I thought I could watch the documentary being shown that night on YouTube but unfortunately, while it was posted in its entirety, it was in Spanish. The film is on reserve at Walter, so I’m stopping by today to pick it up.
I ate cereal and chips. It was a half-hearted binge. I didn’t feel desperation and afterwards just felt bloated and uncomfortable.
April 14, 2011
Because I’ve been insanely busy this past week, I am looking forward to going home and relaxing tonight. After driving Lulu around with a splitting headache Monday afternoon after work, I had Tuesday’s work and then classes until 9P. On Wednesday I had several meetings, worked late and then finished my extra credit assignment at the Science Museum.
I got a call from my son, Corey. He’s graduating next month and has found himself with no place to live after April 30. His current batch of roommates are moving out and after renting a duplex for three years, he’s tired of having to constantly replace them. So, he’s moving into the basement. It’s been nearly ten years since we’ve lived under the same roof and I’m anticipating a honeymoon period at first, then frustration. We have had a complicated relationship.
On the bright side, I weighed myself at the gym today and I weighed 129 ½. I’m pretty pumped about that. That’s ten pounds less than what I weighed in February.
April 16
Today I sit on my butt and write all day. But, given the bad weather (snow?!!??) today, it seems like a perfect day to stay inside.
Chuck is extremely tense these days. He’s getting ready for the big McKnight show and feeling the push to have everything done and perfect. I love him so much. I love his strength and his determination. I love his self-awareness and his natural tendency to search for knowledge and truth in everything he does. His energies are not spent in outward manifestations of who he wants to appear to be, but inward, where it is most profound and elemental. He’s a true artist in that he wishes to explore the realities of what he observes and express it through his elegant photography.
April 17
Here are some ‘progress pictures’ with the first ones taken back in February for comparison.
My back looks so much better. The difference between the first ‘back’ photo and the recent one is amazing. I feel it is a real testament to the power of what a person can do if they set a goal. The body is an incredible machine. It is open to change and open to improvement-even at the age of 50. This gives me hope in my life that I can hold in my heart.
April 20
I’m so tired and hungry. I feel a little helpless. I also feel the crunch with the end of the semester. I’ve got two finals and three quizzes and this documentary project to finish.
Today I registered for the fall semester and I’ll be in classes three nights a week but at least on Tuesday and Thursday I’ll be out of class before.
Frustration
I feel fat. I binged last night.
Two bags of potato chips.
Cookie, cupcake, m&m's.
And two poptarts.
Earlier in the day I had five chocolates.
So=500+300+300+300=1400 calories. : (
Two bags of potato chips.
Cookie, cupcake, m&m's.
And two poptarts.
Earlier in the day I had five chocolates.
So=500+300+300+300=1400 calories. : (
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