[Permanent, David Cook]

Tonight I wasn't able to go to Community Group; Jason has a nasty cold and I can feel my body trying to fight it off.  I came home to drink lots of OJ, take an Airborne, and hopefully I'll get to bed early and get a ton of sleep. I really need to not get sick.  I've been avoiding contact with J (totally SUCKS!) so as to try and not get his germs, washing my hands all the time, and just so trying to not get sick.

The deal is, the family I nanny for is going back east for Thanksgiving, and they're leaving Saturday.  It would just be cruel to get the little bug sick and then have his parents trying to fly across the country with a sick baby.  Not cool.  I'm doing my best to not rub my eyes and then touch him, etc.

So that's that.  Eating has been going really well.  I've figured out a few ways to stay on track.  For one, I know I am a sweet eater.  I can snack on 3,500 calories (a pound!) worth of crap and junk and not feel satisfied.  If I just eat a sweet- usually chocolate- I am satisfied.  Last week it was so hard because there were lots of treats where I nanny, healthy ones even, but they were all earmarked and not ok for me to eat.  I wanted to eat and eat and eat and eat.  I chose not to snack on a bunch of stuff (funny that I just said that, because Jillian is yelling at Michelle about choosing not to quit on The Biggest Loser right now), but I don't know how long I would hold up under that kind of pressure.

So, the sweet solution (bad pun, I know) I came up with is to bring some treat of my own.  I brought my new and favorite (and much beloved!) Skinny Cow ice cream cones.  They should totally pay me, by the way.  Meh.  The other thing is that I have been back on a milk kick (if you know me, you know that I LOVE milk.  Seriously.  LOVE it.  I've been trying to not drink so much, though.) and I have a serving size- one serving size!- with my lunch.  The milk tends to run out at work so I decided to bring my own quart- I purchased organic milk and it is AMAZING.  We can't afford to get it all of the time yet (we buy milk at Costco; I know you can get two gallons at Safeway for the same price but it tastes icky to me.  I like Costco milk.) but it's a great treat with lunch each day.

Anyway, I actually do have a point here :)  There was a day last week where I went to get my glass of milk, it was gone, and it triggered the desire to just eat and eat and eat whatever I could get my chubby paws on.  Once again, I didn't give in and I was "good", but what if next time that happens I'm having a rough day or I'm PMS'ing- a time when rational choices seem to fade into the mist- and I'm simply not as strong?  I need to set myself up to succeed and do whatever I can to avoid failure, thus my treats and milk.

My mind has really been ruminating on obesity.  What is it that causes some of us to turn to food?  To become addicted to it?  Why do some people always struggle to put down the fork or not put the junk in the shopping cart?  How come some people use food as their drug and other people turn to actual drugs or unhealthy relationships or hurting themselves?  Why do some people punish themselves with starvation and others with bingeing?

I don't have any answers.  I mean, some girls who are sexually abused get addicted to attention and affection from boys and others, like me, turn to food for comfort.  I have friends who love to exercise and run; why do I hate it so much?  Why don't I love exercise and see food as just a pleasure to enjoy in moderation?  Do I blame my upbringing?  Am I genetically predisposed?  I don't know.

I hate that people probably see me as weak.  I don't know what it is like to not struggle with obesity and I can't imagine what people who don't know this fight must think of me.  I hate to be a stereotype.  I don't feel like I am that fat person I see in the mirror... I wish the mirror would reflect who I feel I am.  Not that I think I am beautiful, but I don't feel like the 350 pound fat lady.  I know I am, but just last week I was walking around at work and I thought to myself, "I feel like a normal sized person.  Only when I see my ass waddle as I walk by a mirror do I realize that I am totally and completely huge."

Anyway.

A sidenote about The Biggest Loser-- has anyone else noticed that, generally speaking, the show seems to be gravitating toward prettier and prettier girls?  Like, they're fat to start, but once they lose weight they totally fit our culture's standards of beauty.  I'm not saying pretty fat girls don't deserve to get thin, too, but it seems a little unfair.  I think the only female on tonight's show that isn't basically gorgeous, despite the weight, is Vicki. No offense to her.  Everyone else is so pretty.  Seriously, Coleen is GORGEOUS and it was obvious when she was 218 pounds that if she lost even 50 or so pounds (not out of the ordinary) she'd be totally hot.  Honestly, it's so sad, but I think that the producers know that no one wants to watch a show where women lose weight but still aren't pretty.

This is so tragic.  It's not enough in this world to lose weight and get a thin body- you also have to have a pretty face to feel valuable and worthy.  It's hard enough to be fat in this world, but the subliminal message that you also have to have been born with a face considered beautiful by our cultural standards to be a person deserving of love is pretty sad.

This brings up a secret fear- I don't really know what my face looks like under all of this fat.  I know that my profile is really flat and that I was called "owl face" in the sixth grade.  What if I work so hard and I get gastric bypass and I do lose 200+ pounds and my body even responds well and my skin isn't all flabby but I don't have a pretty face?  How sad might that be?  I'm not saying it's reason enough to give up on this battle, but I would be lying if I neglected to admit the times when I felt like I won't ever be pretty, regardless of weight, so I might as well just do the easy thing and eat what I want and be fat.

Ultimately, my worth is in Jesus and who He says I am, what He says I am.  Totally valued, completely loved, altogether cherished, of inherent worth.  Even if I don't lose a single pound more in my lifetime this will remain true, though I'll have to deal with the ramifications of sin.  I believe the Bible and what I know in my heart to be true, that I am loved and accepted by the God of this entire existence as we know it.  Still, I find myself torn.  I want to be loved and accepted by people, too.  At my size, and possibly with this face, I'll never get it, but I still want to be thought of as beautiful.  You ladies know this battle- to be complimented on character is never enough.  We want people to see us and gasp at how gorgeous we are.

I sometimes have flitting daydreams of people from my past seeing me and being astounded at how I look, some 200 pounds less of me to impress them.  This is, I think, why I fear seeing anyone now because I'm so fat, fatter than most remember me and I was plenty fat back when I last saw them, so fat that I just think they'll be disgusted and reject all of me, "inner beauty" along with my despicable exterior.

Body image.  Seriously, it's messed up.  For all of us.