Chapter 7: Stalemate
The lessons of the valiant Laura notwithstanding, adulthood brought my internal schism into full development. I may have come to terms with being tall, but that only gave me room to obsess about being fat.
Fat. Never has there been a word more rife with angst than this one. Never has there been a word so devoid of real meaning, since there are such conflicting opinions on what constitutes the condition. And never has such a small word caused so much terror in the hearts of so many women. You might as well have cancer. In fact, I’ve heard some cancer survivors count weight loss as one of the positive side-effects of treatment.
My early adult years were spent preoccupied with fat: avoiding fat, losing fat, punishing fat, gaining fat, preventing fat, comparing fat, despairing of fat. My body has known more than a 100 pound spread over the years. As my daughter would say, “that’s an entire cheerleader!”
The parade of diets is endless, of course. Early on it was fasting. That was handy because it could be combined with religion. I could mask my eating disorder with the facade of spiritual discipline, and lose 20 pounds in the process. I’m pretty sure I had God fooled the whole time, of course. Various other schemes were less extreme and more effective.
My very first diet was protein and water only. I lost 20 pounds over the summer, and only stopped when I passed out in the bathroom and my mother made me quit. After that, I was always aware of eating, constantly vigilant about food. Like the millions of eating-obsessed women and girls in our country, the whole food world took up a lot of mind space.
My days went something like this: get up in the morning and plan how to be good that day. Under-eat at breakfast, and resist hunger until noon. Stick to something low-cal at lunchtime as well, but when 3pm came along, I was in trouble. The hunger pangs would increase by that time, and the temptations would present themselves with intensity. Some days I would manage to resist all the way through until dinner preparation, when the act of handling food became too much. Snacking while cooking was my body’s cunning ploy, a lame attempt to fool the diet police and satisfy the body’s hunger at the same time. By the time dinner arrived, the need to overeat was irresistible.
But that was only half the drama. The chatter from the diet police inside my head was merciless, starting immediately after the dinner dishes were done, gaining in intensity and cruelty just before sleep. The was always plenty of evidence for conviction, as well as heartfelt promises to do better tomorrow. Always do better tomorrow. There’s always tomorrow.
I think this cycle is very common. Some of you may wonder, “so what? Isn’t that how everyone eats/thinks?” Maybe. I don’t know. You can tell me if you wish. I think millions of people successfully control their weight using this little mind-swirling regimen, hardly noticing what they’re sacrificing in the process.
My most successful weight loss projects were low-calorie schemes. One time I went on a strict 1200 calorie diet and lost 30 pounds. I was very thin, to the point of worrying my friends. 5’10 1/2″ and 135 pounds on my large frame. The diet police were giddy. I got concerned when I kept thinking I should lose another 5, and when that little pouch around my belly button started looking like something more to lose, and I became afraid of food, I decided to ease up a little.
After two births, and a 25 pound gain, I decided to try Weight Watchers. I was very successful, reaching my goal weight and becoming a lifetime member. Except for the part where I nearly passed out from hunger every day, it was a good plan. Somehow it never occurred to me to allow myself more food in honor of my height and frame.
Eventually I gave up the struggle, and, long story short, gained a ton of weight in a short amount of time. The mental vacation was quite pleasurable, but the body truly suffered. It takes a lot of denial to gain 60 pounds in 9 months. Yikes.
After a few years I rallied and come up with another scheme or two, usually involving large amounts of money. I thought maybe if I spent more money trying to lose weight – another program, a special doctor – maybe that would work.
Oh, and let’s not forget Dr. Atkins! Another successful weight loss scheme that backfired.
You get the picture. Eventually I lost the ability to lose weight altogether. My body simply refused to budge.
Stalemate.
