Ack!
It's been a while since I actually wrote anything remotely about weight loss. I suppose I should say a word about that since this thing originated with the idea of somehow chronicling my journey to the wonderful world of size six.
Yes, that's right, kids. Jenny is a size six. How in the HELL did that happen? I always thought of single digit sizes as some elusive, perhaps imaginary place where fashion designers set up camp. I sometimes still don't recognize myself. I'll be folding laundry and hold up what looks to me like a shirt for my nine year old cousin, or a pair of pants with what looks like an impossibly thin waist and chastise myself for shrinking my clothing (trust me, it wouldn't be the first time.). I suppose what with vanity sizing, people are going to be reading this and saying, "HA! That's meaningless." Well, you know what? HERE'S my umbrella! You're not raining on my parade.
Alot has happened to me in the past two months. I became seriously ill and had to have my gallbladder out because it was damaging my liver. Shortly after, my dad was put in a nursing home at the age of 49, and a few weeks later he passed away. My paternal grandfather is now in the hospital while they try to decipher what exactly is up with his heart. I feel like the worst that could happen has happened. Sometimes, I literally look towards the sky and think, "What next? Bring it on!!! I'm ready!"
It's been a very hard couple of months, and I think that this was a HUGE test of my renewed committment to my body and a test of strength. Despite everything that has happened and is happening, I continue to remain true to my healthy lifestyle because if there's one thing i've learned it's that you get one body, so you had better make damn sure that you treat it right.
I will say that sitting shivah (a period of mourning after the person dies in which the immediate family does nothing but mourn and eat things that others have brought to them- or in our case, have had delivered) with the Jewish side was... well, let's just say that whenever ANYTHING happens, they eat. I mean, someone dies, circumcisions, weddings, bat and bar mitzvahs...I don't know...probably after sex, too. Ever seen "The Nanny?" Remember Fran and Silvia? I recall an episode in which Silvia put ice cream and chocolate syrup in her diet shake. My point is, they eat.
In this case, people sent so many freakin' deli platters we could have stocked all of the Kosher delis on Long Island. It was nuts. You were just expected to eat continuously throughout the day and just when you thought lunch was finally over, it was time for dinner. And then when you were on the verge of exploding out of your pants and shooting yourself or someone else with the buttons from your clothing, it was time for dessert (which you'd been eating throughout the day, anyway!). I ate so much turkey (because it was the kind that they just carved right off the bird and the only sensible option) that I don't even know how i'll react when I see it on Thanksgiving (because God knows there's no way in Hell i'll voluntarily put myself in a situation involving turkey until then). I'm guessing it'll trigger my gag reflex. I'll have to let you know. (Oh, and BLESS the people who sent that lovely fruit arrangement. My heroes.) There were bagels and lox (no Jewish shindig is complete without this. I'm not even Jewish and I knew that!), tuna, chicken, and whitefish salads laden with mayo, cookies and pies...it was food chaos and every bingers heaven and hell. I still haven't figured out how I held up against all of that, but when I do, I'll be sure to let you know. Sheer willpower, I guess.
I suppose that what I want to get across is that even under extreme stress and grief, I was able to stay strong and not use food as a comforting tool. I didn't try to eat myself into oblivion and I didn't try to numb myself (although I may have unintentionally with all the freakin' tryptophan in the turkey!). I got through it just fine. How many people can say that? I know that before I started this trip to health, I certainly wouldn't. I remember getting my first (and it turned out, only) rejection letter from a college I applied to, getting in the car, getting a JUMBO bag of Smartfood, and packing it away like it was my job. It certainly didn't help. I felt ten times worse. I should've gone for a walk instead. From now on, that's what i'll do.
Yes, that's right, kids. Jenny is a size six. How in the HELL did that happen? I always thought of single digit sizes as some elusive, perhaps imaginary place where fashion designers set up camp. I sometimes still don't recognize myself. I'll be folding laundry and hold up what looks to me like a shirt for my nine year old cousin, or a pair of pants with what looks like an impossibly thin waist and chastise myself for shrinking my clothing (trust me, it wouldn't be the first time.). I suppose what with vanity sizing, people are going to be reading this and saying, "HA! That's meaningless." Well, you know what? HERE'S my umbrella! You're not raining on my parade.
Alot has happened to me in the past two months. I became seriously ill and had to have my gallbladder out because it was damaging my liver. Shortly after, my dad was put in a nursing home at the age of 49, and a few weeks later he passed away. My paternal grandfather is now in the hospital while they try to decipher what exactly is up with his heart. I feel like the worst that could happen has happened. Sometimes, I literally look towards the sky and think, "What next? Bring it on!!! I'm ready!"
It's been a very hard couple of months, and I think that this was a HUGE test of my renewed committment to my body and a test of strength. Despite everything that has happened and is happening, I continue to remain true to my healthy lifestyle because if there's one thing i've learned it's that you get one body, so you had better make damn sure that you treat it right.
I will say that sitting shivah (a period of mourning after the person dies in which the immediate family does nothing but mourn and eat things that others have brought to them- or in our case, have had delivered) with the Jewish side was... well, let's just say that whenever ANYTHING happens, they eat. I mean, someone dies, circumcisions, weddings, bat and bar mitzvahs...I don't know...probably after sex, too. Ever seen "The Nanny?" Remember Fran and Silvia? I recall an episode in which Silvia put ice cream and chocolate syrup in her diet shake. My point is, they eat.
In this case, people sent so many freakin' deli platters we could have stocked all of the Kosher delis on Long Island. It was nuts. You were just expected to eat continuously throughout the day and just when you thought lunch was finally over, it was time for dinner. And then when you were on the verge of exploding out of your pants and shooting yourself or someone else with the buttons from your clothing, it was time for dessert (which you'd been eating throughout the day, anyway!). I ate so much turkey (because it was the kind that they just carved right off the bird and the only sensible option) that I don't even know how i'll react when I see it on Thanksgiving (because God knows there's no way in Hell i'll voluntarily put myself in a situation involving turkey until then). I'm guessing it'll trigger my gag reflex. I'll have to let you know. (Oh, and BLESS the people who sent that lovely fruit arrangement. My heroes.) There were bagels and lox (no Jewish shindig is complete without this. I'm not even Jewish and I knew that!), tuna, chicken, and whitefish salads laden with mayo, cookies and pies...it was food chaos and every bingers heaven and hell. I still haven't figured out how I held up against all of that, but when I do, I'll be sure to let you know. Sheer willpower, I guess.
I suppose that what I want to get across is that even under extreme stress and grief, I was able to stay strong and not use food as a comforting tool. I didn't try to eat myself into oblivion and I didn't try to numb myself (although I may have unintentionally with all the freakin' tryptophan in the turkey!). I got through it just fine. How many people can say that? I know that before I started this trip to health, I certainly wouldn't. I remember getting my first (and it turned out, only) rejection letter from a college I applied to, getting in the car, getting a JUMBO bag of Smartfood, and packing it away like it was my job. It certainly didn't help. I felt ten times worse. I should've gone for a walk instead. From now on, that's what i'll do.
posted by Jenny @ 3:39 PM
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