So how is this going to end?
There’s something unsettling this kind of doing things. Because it really isn’t supposed to stop, is it?
With low-fat and low-carb diets, I could always tell myself I would get to “stop” at some point (though I never got there because either I didn’t lose any weight, or I got pregnant and had to stop dieting for that reason).
Not now. Before this May, I now know, I was simply eating too damn much food. If I “stop dieting,” and go back to the old way, the weight will come back. The thing is to do this for the rest of my life. Perhaps I’ll get well enough familiar with portion sizes that I’ll be able to stop measuring everything; but there’s no way to get around the need to keep making sure I keep feeling a little bit hungry, before my breakfast, before my lunch, before my supper, for the rest of my life.
Can I? Will I?
Will I keep getting hungry between meals, ever? Will I never eat an entire pizza? Will I always ask for the half portion? Will I forget about ever filling up on bread, ever again? Will I roll over in bed when my stomach growls at 3 a.m., saving that appetite for breakfast? Will I throw out the kids’ sandwich crusts? Will it start to feel wonderful, instead of worrying, to believe that the eating-till-I’m-stuffed is over?
And what will I do when this streak comes to an end? When the scale stops going down, will I find another hit of motivation every day, to keep myself from reverting to gluttony? Or without that little bit of feedback, will I start thinking I can blow it a little bit here, a little bit there… and get back where I was?
After all, since I’m not planning to waste away to nothing, there are three ways out of this:
- I might reach the middle of the “healthy” BMI range. (still sounds pretty unbelievable — there’s 19 pounds to go) and I might have to experiment with how much food to eat to maintain that weight.
- The weight loss might slow and stop, since my leaner body needs fewer calories, and I might decide I’m comfortable enough where I am at that stable food intake.
- I might get pregnant.
I have to be careful about the way I think about that last one. I hope to have another baby, not that far in the future. But I catch myself with mixed feelings about it now. Pregnancy so far has meant pressing the “reset” button. When my first baby was 6 months old, I weighed 156 pounds. When my second baby was 6 months old, I weighed 156 pounds. When my third baby was 6 months old, I weighed 156 pounds. See? Reset.
Wrong-headed thinking? Plenty. “Why bother with the work to lose all this weight; I’m just going to weigh 156 at the end of my next pregnancy AGAIN.”
(Answer: Because even a few months at this weight is a few months when I don’t put extra strain on my heart, my pancreas, my arteries)
(Answer: Because if I start out leaner, and eat the right foods, maybe I’ll gain less weight and have a healthier pregnancy)
(Answer: Because I’ve learned that I can get hungry without freaking out; I’ve learned that I don’t die if I don’t have second helpings of everything; I’ve learned how to eat the right amounts in all kinds of situations; and maybe I’ll keep those habits)
The other kind of wrong-headed thinking is this: “Maybe it’s not worth it to have another child. Maybe it’d be more fun to stay thin. Maybe it’s worth it not to try, because what if I never manage to lose this weight again? What if I can’t summon the willpower to eat for one again after I’ve spent months eating for two? No, better never go off the wagon, because I might never make it back on again.”
(Answer: Deep down, I know it’s not the right reason. I have reason to believe I can lose the weight again, even if I weigh 156 six month after a hypothetical #4, because I’ve done it after #3. And I know I’d regret never trying for another child.)
So… There’s still mental work to be done, and an “end” to find. For now, I can concentrate on one goal at a time, even though I only have a few goals left. The next one, for now, is the top of the “healthy” BMI range, which not too long ago was 33 pounds away, and now it’s only 4. I guess I’ll worry about what’s next when I see what’s next. Whichever way it ends.
[Editing note. Years and years later, I wish I’d done a better job distinguishing gluttony from other problems with food, like clinical eating disorders and other kinds of compulsiveness.
I want to emphasize that, whereas I identified some behaviors in myself that probably qualified as self-centered gluttony in the technical sense, I am not and never have been qualified to make that distinction for anyone else.
I hope to add some commentary to all the posts that have this problem as I find the time to review them. Here’s a more recent post where I acknowledge some of the problematic material I wrote and set new ground rules for myself going forward.]
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