Limitless Part III

It’s a beautiful evening at the Babe Ruth field, a crisp, clear night. I sit in the shadows, bundled up in layers.  What some take for granted, I cherish; the ability to watch my son play baseball.  To most, the weather is perfect. But me, I watch the temperature slowly drop as the sun sets. Once the temperature hits the low 60’s I will need to move inside.

Thanks to my trigmenal/atypical facial neuralgia, this is my normal. If I stay outside for too long in the cold, I’m a goner. The cold is my biggest pain trigger and it can result in many different types of pain. The right hand side of my face can turn to pins and needles and feel like I just had a bunch of Novocain shots. I can have shooting pains in my right eye or in teeth. I might get tapping pains on the top of my head, like someone is repeatedly poking me. Or the very worst- excruciating pain, like my head is being squeezed in a vice, or lightning bolt type pains that run down the back of my neck. The severe pains can put me down and out for a day or two, even with medication.  

So I pack up my stuff and head for my car. I try my best to ignore the seemingly judgmental stares from the other parents as I leave mid-game. Some families that I’m close to know why I have to leave and the rest…I’m guessing they just speculate as to why I can only make a handful of the games.

I pull around to the other side of the baseball field to get the best vantage point I can to watch the rest of the game from my car. The view is marginal at best.

For a brief moment I feel sad and angry that I’m different. That I can’t be sitting in the stands with the other parents, seeing the plays up close, rooting on my boy. It hurts to be apart from the crowd. I wonder if my son understands? Most times I don’t understand this illness myself.

I breathe and I release the pain…because this is my life.  

I settle into my car, keeping it running for a while to warm things up; keeping the window rolled down so I can hear the announcer.

I relax, accepting the moment for what it is. Because I can only see a portion of the field, I let my ears do the talking. I listen for the crack of the ball against the bat. I hear the boys teasing laughter and camaraderie.  The coach’s instructions loom in the air. I listen for the thud of the ball as it’s cradled by the catcher- thunk! I hear the parents shouting encouragement as the kids round the bases during a fantastic play.

I breathe and I adjust my point of view…because this is my life.

As I’m sitting there, I think about the book I’m reading by Kathy Gilbert Taylor, With Great Mercy. She too suffered from trigeminal neuralgia and writes about the testing and growth of her faith during her journey. What really stood out to me from her message is the need for us to be able experience joy in between pain.  When those joyful moments present themselves, both big and small, we need to reach out and grab them, and clutch them tight to our hearts. These moments are gifts from God. They are meant to sustain us during times of pain.  We just need to be still and patient enough to find them.

As the game winds down, so does my anger, it’s gone. I look up and am reminded of the beauty that surrounds me.  I watch the wind move fluidly and silently across the American flag at the ball field. What a glorious and beautiful sight. I let God’s grace move fluidly and silently over me.

I breathe…and I give thanks…because this is my life.

Make the choice. Commit to the choice. Ask for help. Continue with courage.

Hugs and friendship,

Tara

Begin Again

Two years ago, on a cold blustery March day, I opened up my laptop and started writing. I guess it’s kind of like having teen angst and jotting everything down in a journal except I’m not a teenager (thank the good Lord) and teens don't typically use the word jot. 

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and boy was I desperate.  I was stuck and frustrated. I could not get the scale to move in my favor. I had gained back over half of the weight I had lost and maintained for such a long time. I was ashamed.

There I was, a Lifetime member of Weight Watchers since 1997, looking in the mirror and the eyes that looked back at me were filled with self- loathing.  How could I have let this happen? When did it happen? Why did it happen? I knew what to do. I knew how to be successful on the program.  For many years I was dialed-in, laser-focused on my goals. And then…life happened.

Oh, I could blame this, that or some other thing. I could say I gained weight because of a stressful job transition. Or because I was working and going to school full time while trying to be a wife, Mom, friend---you get the picture. I could say I gained weight because I was battling a chronic and painful illness.

The reality is that I gained weight because of all of those things, in combination with the fact that:

I’m human.

I make mistakes.

I love to eat.

Plus many, many, MANY other simple AND complex reasons.

On March 26, 2011, I wrote my first blog post. I decided to publicly share my words with anyone who would read them to hold myself accountable during my wellness journey.  And I must say, it’s both humbling and gratifying to be able to see my progress, not just the physical changes, but the emotional changes I’ve gone through.

Fast forward to today, and I’m proud to say I’m not only at goal, I’m 8 pounds below my goal.

And the best part? As a Weight Watchers leader, I now have the privilege of helping others reach their goals.

Often times, I meet people who are at the exact same spot I was at two years ago. Sometimes, it seems like they are looking to me for a magical answer to their road back to wellness.  The best advice I can give is this- DO NOT GIVE UP!!!

This advice isn’t meant to be trite or cliché. It’s a heart-felt plea to keep on keepin’ on. If I could take their hand and look into their eyes I would say with all sincerity- please do not stop now. I will meet you wherever you are in your journey and will do whatever it takes to help you succeed.

Tired and broken. Lost and weary. Frustrated and scared. I’ve been there. Angry and self-deprecating. On the brink of giving up. I’ve been there. Exasperated beyond belief. I’ve been there. 

Your Weight Watchers leaders and peers can help you because not only have they been there, they are now here. And being here, at goal, feels so darned amazing.  

Being here means we didn’t give up on ourselves. Being here means knowing we are worth the work. It means that we are living our best lives. Being here means we did not stop.

Being here has led to joy, increased energy, a willingness to take risks, laughter, confidence, self-forgiveness, the courage to try new things, contentment and pride. 

Being here means NEVER forgetting that I was there.

And sometimes, being here means knowing how to begin again.   

Make the choice. Commit to the choice. Ask for help. Continue with courage.

Hugs and friendship,

Tara

When the Cookie Crumbles

Well, I haven’t posted for a few weeks and it seems like ages. I sure have missed writing about my random adventures. Life’s been a bit more chaotic than usual and I’ve been just holding on for dear life. Ok, that might be a little a lot dramatic. Things haven’t been THAT bad, but I do feel like I’ve been strapped into a Tilt-A-Whirl, a little disoriented, disheveled and uneasy.  And without sounding like a bad country song, let’s just say things have been extra stressful. I won’t bore you with the details…

What happens when the cookie crumbles? Or life gives you lemons? Or whatever other cliché for “life sucks right now” we want to <insert here>.  I don’t know about you, but when the cookie crumbles, I pick the crumbs up off the floor and eat them.  They’re still dee-lish!

But seriously, I’ve learned so much the past few weeks about how far I’ve come with my wellness skills, especially my number one biggie- stress eating. I have written about this before, I’ve been stress eating since I was in elementary school.  Food has always been my healing balm and saving grace, but I don’t need it anymore.  I’m not saying I’m cured. I am saying that I’m new and improved.

If I had a dollar for every time I wanted to turn to food this past month for comfort, I’d be building a nice little savings account. It has been really crazy, almost an out of body experience, to feel myself turning to food and walking away. Countless times each day, especially because I work from home, I’ve walked to the pantry or refrigerator to grab something “not so good for me”.  While sometimes I didn’t make a wise choice, most times I did, and that’s what counts.

I continually revisit non-scale victories with my Weight Watchers (WW) classes because it’s these non-scale victories that lead to scale victories and long term weight loss maintenance.  This week at WW, we’re talking about behavior. It’s that whole chicken-egg scenario- do you change your mind to change your behavior or do you change your behavior to change your mind? Both.

What’s important to remember is that just changing your mind isn’t enough. As I’ve posted before, willpower is overrated. If we could all think ourselves thin, we’d be at goal already.

It’s much MUCH more complicated than that. If we factor in the complexity of the human brain, body and emotions-how we’re wired and designed; along with outside factors such as our environments and relationship dynamics- where we work and live and with whom; we might just get to the root cause of why we do the things we do.

The reason I was able to a) walk away from food temptations and b) eat better foods when I wanted unhealthier versions and c) allow myself to enjoy but not over indulge--- these past few weeks is because I’ve learned (and relearned) through WW some really clutch behaviors and skills that help me to stay on track, even when I am my own worst enemy.

It’s not that I’m super strong or powerful, it’s that finally, after all these years, I am not doing the Weight Watchers program, I am living it. It’s simply become a part of who I am. So that even on the most stress-filled days, I am armed and ready for the fight and am in a position to win.

So even when life hands me lemons, I’ll plug them into my WW recipe builder and find a way to make them into something tasty and good!  

Make the choice. Commit to the choice. Ask for help. Continue with courage.

Hugs and friendship,

Tara