om and nom nom

June 9, 2008 at 12:00 am (Uncategorized)

Two of my friends are on diets – one in a structured long-term way, the other in a panic spurred on by finding out that none of her pants fit anymore. (Which, I can understand is terrifying, and have totally been there. Eventually after hating myself and bingeing I just bought some damn new pants. That helped a lot more than abortive weight-loss efforts, for me.) And I’m so opposed to dieting at this point that I have a hard time holding back, telling them that they should love their bodies, that they’re trying to get by on starvation levels of calories, and linking them to the entire archives of Shapely Prose. I haven’t done this, because I think right now it would be really… not rude, but ill-advised. Particularly with the panicky one. Especially since they have all these people cheering them on. (These are purely online friends, which makes life easier.)

This also means I’ve been in a weird head-space recently. Since writing that last entry I’ve been trying to be more mindful of what I’m eating and how. That’s harder right now, though; PMS week is always a challenge for me just in terms of not snapping and tearing people new orifices, and it’s also hard because it’s been hot. Normally warm, and then these past few days blazing, ridiculously hot. PMS makes me want to eat lots and lots of cheese. Hot weather? Lots of nothing, except ice cream. And on top of it all I’m still in a tailspin about school and work and moving out; I have just under eight weeks until I leave, and in that time I have to write two papers, study, and retake the exams I failed. And try to squeeze in time with the friends who I’m leaving. (We’re going to a ren faire next weekend. I have to write a post about taking measurements next time.) Which means stress, which means bingeing. Mindfulness is a struggle.

So that means yesterday I had spinach and artichoke dip and a salad with tons of avocado, because I wanted things that were green and not a giant hunk of meat; it means I ate only one and a half servings of pasta instead of three and only half the pint of cookie dough ice cream, instead of shoving it in till my stomach felt full and hard. It means making egg salad and then putting it in the fridge after a spoonful, because I honestly didn’t want it. It also means a lot of Pringles, because I’m craving salt. But I could be doing worse. I’m not going to bed with a stomachache. I’m trying really hard to be aware without assigning values other than how I feel, both emotionally and physically. I need to eat more vegetables because they make me feel healthier, even if I hate standing in our bizarrely hot kitchen to slice everything. I think I can do this.

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