Today’s blog
Lynn Murphy Mark
Oprah and me
Oprah and I have something in common: at several points in our lives we’ve actually been within a “normal” weight range. Which also means that there have been times when we’ve been off the reservation and back up in the hefty category. And, we have both had good success using Weight Watchers as a healthy choice. Oprah likes it so much that she bought into the company. I like it too, but my contributions over the years aren’t even in the same league with hers. However, I have paid for my share of the program.
Weight Watchers, to me, is the best program out there. The fact that I have fallen off the wagon and gained back the weight is no reflection on WW. It is a reflection on the power of food addiction in my life. I have a few strikes against me, family wise. Many of the women in one side of my family are heavy. My mother also was a yoyo dieter with her weight going up and down judging by pictures from the past. Alcohol addiction is a thread on both sides of the family.
Food has always been both a pleasure and a heartache. I do love good food. I love big portions. I never met a cookie I didn’t like and the same goes for ice cream. Other people like those things too, but our serving sizes are vastly different. I have a friend who is very thin. When she has ice cream she literally has the ½ cup – or less – that is considered a serving. She is quite satisfied when she has finished that tiny little portion of a carton. I, on the other hand, am happy to get a spoon and hold my carton on my lap. Shame on me but it sure tastes good.
My addiction is so closely related to an alcohol or drug addiction that I attend a 12 Step program twice a week. My groupmates are often alcoholics, and as they talk about the seductive nature of booze I am right there with them with food.
It starts as a faint thought, this urge to overeat. And because addiction is an obsessive- compulsive disorder, the thoughts grow in strength until the desire to eat is very strong and very hard to disobey. I tell myself all kinds of stories, mostly that “this is the very last time”, or, “I can have a normal serving and be satisfied”. Even as I think those words I know that they are not true. That is how I betray myself again and again. Thoughts of self-care float down into the dregs of my mind where they languish, unproductive.
Over the Fourth of July my kids and grandkids were here. One day we were out by our pool. Jackie and Ted were in the water with Cameron and Xander. Ordinarily I would have been in there with them, but my size makes it impossible to get out of the pool. So there I was, sweltering in the heat, watching four of the people that I love the most enjoy the cool water in the pool. It occurred to me that I want to be around these people as long as possible. My grandsons are three and almost five. I will be 73 this year. The odds of my seeing them in high school are definitely affected by the stress I am putting on my body.
So, back to WW I go. I will do this one day at a time. And, I don’t write about this very personal side of me to garner any sympathy. I write about it because I know I am not alone on this rocky road of addiction to substances that are, in 12 Step language, “cunning, baffling, powerful”. Another 12 Step program saying is, “It works if you work in – and, you’re worth it!”. Yes, we are.