Despite my whining…

Despite my whining about my weight, I’m really not in a bad place, and it’s not as bad as it seems. On the surface, I’m irritated that I’m 20 pounds more than I want to be. But in actuality, it’s not a whole story to say that, and that’s part of my problem. In actuality:

I want to be 125. Probably closer to 120, but I couldn’t get there before, I hovered around 123, so I am using 125 as a number I KNOW I can get to as a goal.
I was 125. Maintaining weight, if not routine, just fine.
The pill, when I started, bumped me to 135 within a week with no change in food or activity. I fought that for a looong time.
My weight naturally fluctuates about 5 pounds throughout the day/week/month and so that 5 pounds makes me frustrated when it’s up and totally ok when it’s down.

I’d been maintaining the 135-140 range just fine. Unable to get below 135 is frustrating as shit. Got to 132 one day, but it was a late weigh in and I was back to 135 the next day. Often I was 137/138, and I was learning to be ok with that. It’d seemed the pill just prevented me from getting anywhere near the 120s, and as pain in the ass as that is, it’s natural. Happens to a lot of women, I guess that’s a consolation.

Occasionally I’d rant about it, often it would be discouraging, sometimes I’d be ok with it. Deep down I don’t think I can get below 135 without going off the pill. This has sometimes sabotaged me in my efforts to try, as I really tend to feel defeated even when I start out, even with all the proclaiming that I don’t care but I’m gonna try.

It’s this recent 5 or so pounds that has me really irritated. This is not any kind of normal fluctuation or anything. I know how some of it happened: plague, but the rest? Chicago, I guess. At least, that’s what the scale seems to say. 143-5 before Chicago, 150 when I got home. Down since then, without any working out either, but still.

I left ftbm when it was no longer helpful to me or a fun place to be. When the whining about the lack of motivation was getting to me because people seemed to be looking to someone else to motivate them, while I was struggling at times to not slip into a hole myself. If I wanted to work fucking hard at trying to motivate people who were too busy whining about not having motivation to go to the gym I’d deal with my mother-in-law… her health and fitness at least matters to me. I’d worry about helping my husband stay on track, and myself. I’d deal with my mom and get her ass in gear. I’d drag my sister to the gym or something. These things are far more important to me, which is why I left.

And now I realize what was actually going on. The few times I’ve been back I’ve had a few things click, I understand a couple of things that were baffling me before. While this is somewhat interesting, it is peripheral. But it will make me stay away for the most part, I do not feel a need to socialize overmuch online with people I see the way I do. Hopefully people will find success as I have.

Because, as much as I’ve bitched about my weight, until very recently due to illness and travel, I’ve maintained just fine. I’ve been complaining, as usual, about my lack of perfection… treating non-perfect as failure. Not being willing to see the fact that I am actually spending more time working hard than sitting on my ass. I am actually eating well far more often than having a sweet day. I am, with the exception of this most recent blip, maintaining a perfectly acceptable weight, it’s just a weight that I don’t want to be. But a weight that I’ve struggled to get under and failed to so far.

I am so my best saboteur.

I thought things that were untrue. I’ve been derailed by those things I perceive as truth when they are not. I’ve been unwilling to see my success for what it is, I see it as failure to be perfect.

I am accepting of my body and myself. Maybe sometimes that makes it harder? I don’t hate myself or my body, and I find 135 and a size 6 perfectly acceptable for me. That combined with the “truth” that the pill will not allow me to be below 135… has kept me from actually achieving what I’d like.

I’m not positive I can achieve the right balance. Of wanting better while being ok with where I am. Sometimes I’m in that headspace, but then I usually lose it when school assignment deadlines grow near and I give up on the body to get the grade.

We’re the only ones that see our little flaws, and when we blow them out of proportion, noone else can really help us get things back into perspective directly. They might be able to show us some things that help, but really it’s our job to keep everything in perspective and deal with “problems” and “flaws” appropriately. That means purposefully recognizing our good areas, things we excel at. That means identifying areas that need improvement, but retaining an idea of what that scope of improvement should be, and recognizing the real level that area is currently at (not demonizing it to be “horribly bad” when it’s only moderately so, not seeing “perfect or useless,” not using an all or nothing approach).

I’ve done well. I don’t tell myself that enough.
I look good. I haven’t told myself that recently.
I need improvement. I can strive for perfection, but not achieving it is not only ok, but really it’s unachievable.
Any bit of success is success. While I can’t rest after losing a pound because it’s achievement, that pound is still worth a pat on the back… even when it may sometimes be due to a well-timed dump.

There’s another pitfall that is in here too, but that’s for another post.

Suffice it to say, I’m still learning that there’s something in-between achieving perfection and failing utterly. While I can preach it to others all damn day long, I need to learn to listen to that once in a while.

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