They think they are helping me. I get that. They sneak food in behind back corners and out of my sight. They don't tell me when they are going picking something up or having something they've made. They are helping me by not tempting me and they know that no matter what the question is, if it's about food, 99.99% of the time my answer will be "no thank you".
The biggest part of me (no pun intended!) really appreciates that they want to help me avoid temptation. There are people in my life who really love me and want to HELP me. That's ridiculously huge for me and I am grateful. Very grateful.
A very, very small part of me wishes that I didn't have to feel like a freak. Because I do for those very small moments in time.
This is weird for me to admit, but I think I'm pretty much over being obsessed about my weight.
I was, mind you. For a very long time. I read the Weight Watchers message boards religiously, weighed myself every single day, and (worst of all) thought about food almost constantly; what food I could eat, what food I couldn't eat, what I would do if presented with a food in the later catagory, what I would need to buy, what I would need to make. It was pretty much completely exhausting.
Also, one of my friends became obsessed with losing weight at one point and every single conversation we had was about how many miles she walked or how many calories she ate and how she might not be eating enough and honestly? I thought I might stab her. I love her, but that's really a stabbable offense. And I didn't want anyone going around thinking, "I want to stab Stephanie, for reals. She won't shut up about body fat." And since I tend to be stabbable just in general? I really didn't want to push my luck about this issue.
I just don't think about it very much anymore. I go to the grocery store and I know what to buy. I know what not to buy (hello, caramel corn). I know how to prepare what I buy. It's almost autopilot for me anymore.
I still exercise nearly every day of my life. I still dutifully track my food, my water, my exercise, and my multivitamin at the Weight Watchers website. I did almost lose my mind during Thanksgiving and the rapid influx of pecan pie all around me, but I made it through that too. I even had a piece (or two).
Am I completely over my addictive tendencies? Doubtful. Will I ever be? I doubt that too. But I'm a lot better. I'm okay. It does not bother me, not even a little bit, if you eat a bagel in front of me. Or Chinese food. Or a honking piece of cake. I don't feel jealous and I don't feel sad. I only feel that if I eat it? It will end up on my ass. And that ain't pretty.
I just need to figure out how to make everyone else see that I'm okay, I guess. And as I've found with so, so many things in life? That's often the hardest part.