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Help Is On The Way

First, I just need to say thanks for those who have posted comments recently. It’s been a rough few days, and I really appreciate the feedback and support. Keep ‘em coming!

As I’ve shared, my numbers are higher at the scale than they need to be, and I feel like I’ve been really floundering. When I started this journey, I managed to remain focused through all kinds of challenges and refused to turn to food for emotional reasons. What is different now than it was 100 pounds ago when I was in weight loss mode?

As I sat and talked with a couple friends over the weekend, I realized that one of the things that I stopped doing was asking for help. After I lost weight, people looked to me for the answers, but I forgot that I also needed a little encouragement along the way.

My house used to be my haven – I could always find a safe place to land there, but then I started bringing shit into it that called my name and my family quickly followed suit. I’ve known for several years if candy and other yummy crap lies around my house, I’m eatin’ it. End of story. My most favorite concoction recently – butterscotch chips, peanuts, Goldfish pretzels and M&Ms. Hello, other than the pretzels, why was any of that shit in my house? Thanks Debbie for the wake-up call – the snack cabinet handled the purge just fine.

Complicating things was all the schtuff that Lyle brought home that he found on sale or at the local Amish market. Considering that the word “Amish” quickly leads me to the term lard ass, it is no wonder that I encountered a few snacking dilemmas. He told me that I didn’t need to eat it, but I always managed to find his secret stash.

Combine those things with the occasional “free day” and I think I uncovered the quandary.

Lyle was my biggest champion when I first lost weight. I would often overhear him talking with friends about how much weight I lost and how proud he was of me. Now, he just bitches that there is nothing “good” in the house unless he brings it in.

Instead of blaming him, I took responsibility for my actions. It’s not his problem that I’m experiencing very little self-control, but I need his assistance. My plea went something like this…

“Lyle, I know you like to have sweet stuff around, but I really need your help. I’m having a really tough time and I’m increasingly unhappy with my actions (and the size of my ass), can you please help me by not bringing the junk in the house. I know I could choose to ignore it, but it I’m not having much luck there and I really could use your help. Could you help me with this, please?”

It worked. Of course it worked. Lyle is a great guy and I know he loves me (why, I don’t know since I’m often quite bitchy). Did you also notice how many times that I said “help?” It’s no coincidence that when I ask for help, I get it. I don’t like to admit that I need it, but I think the process works – I just need to use it.

I also asked a few friends to reach out and check in on me throughout the week…that’s a hard request too, but I have to say it brought a smile on my face when I heard a voicemail from a friend last night, and it certainly called me away from the snack cabinet. Why do I enjoy helping others, but hate to admit that I need a little of it myself?


4 Responses

  1. Your husband and mine sound alike! Although mine needs to lose weight himself so I get extra annoyed when he brings in crap. He has learned to hide it, or try to hide it. Sometimes I can totally see the forbidden food and not want it, some times I have no willpower. So far on this last diet of mine I have managed not to eat the real crap in the house, but have instead managed to pig out on what should have been considered the healthy stuff.

    I also find it hard to ask for help. Easier to offer it to others. So…. Is there anything I can do to help you? Meanwhile, hugs. Karen

  2. It’s good just to know that I”m not the only one…I totally relate. I don’t know if it is worse that I search for the hidden chocolate or gorge on bran cereal – there is something equally disturbing about that picture! The feedback helps the most – and just checking out. It is good to know that I’m not on a life raft all by myself. THANKS!

  3. Do not trust a woman and a half gallon of rocky road ice cream with a spoon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  4. Yeah, nothing good comes from a half-gallon of ice cream!

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