Cheater.

I know what happens when I cheat. But I still do it. More and more. It is like a drug. I cannot control that impulse.

I hate cheaters.

I grew up hating cheaters. It was embedded in my core that cheaters are no good.

And yet, here I am…cheating.

It may not be as bad as what I was told growing up. I can fix it…I can repair the damage that is done.  But how long will that feeling last and when will the cheating not be enough? Will I give up on everything for the sake of cheating?

I know I have a good thing. I finally have stability and happiness. 

But that obviously meant nothing. I did it knowing that my imaginary Family Bible full of do’s and don’ts says “Thou Shall Not Cheat”…I am a sinner in the eyes of my family, and now that I am realizing it myself…I have sinned against myself most importantly.

I am not a Holy Roller…but I believe (as I may have stated many times before) that everything happens for a reason…even my cheating.

I am guessing that my realization and guilt of cheating more and more is becoming a problem for me…and it has to stop...now.

I am not making light of an actual cheater,(one who has a relationship with someone else while married or committed to another), and the hurt and pain that causes or how it can destroy an entire family in an instant…grew up in that world and take it very seriously.

I am talking about me...my cheating with food. The love of my life…because in that Family Bible there may have been a hefty section regarding food…eat it, smother it on your face, let it make you sick or fat or sad…do whatever you want with it…it’s o.k. 

Food is my cheat.

I have taken the last year of my life to find that peace within myself and to understand my conditional relationship with food and my health and why I let it control me, and done really well. I am not dieting anymore, I am living…better. I eat what I want. I follow a list of restrictions, which was overwhelming at first, but not because I want to lose weight (and I have lost over thirty pounds of which I am very proud of but not focusing on too much), but because I want to learn how to live healthier and happier… not to just be skinny again for a few months, only to slowly add the weight and misery back on again.

And I was.

I made it through the holidays…usually my worst time with cakes and candy and heavy meals.

Soooo, I say to myself today, why have I cheated? I don’t know…I just wanted a cookie…albeit a gluten free one, but still a cookie. Or a few french fries…or a mixed drink…whatever it has been, I have paid the price afterward.

Cheating does not sit well with me, literally. 

I follow a strict and fulfilling diet for several health reasons. I eat as clean as I can and have stuck to it for the most part, for almost six months now.

When I have unknowingly or knowingly cheated, I feel awful. Maybe similar to the guilt one may feel after really cheating, but more a physical feeling versus emotional.

But this is where the emotional part is catching up to me…I don’t want to cheat. I love this new way of life…so why am I doing it? Boredom? Being stuck in the house with kids and treats on yet another snow day? I don’t know…but it has to stop.

I have big plans for when this cold miserable weather takes a vacation and lets Spring come back to work in its place…

The pain is not worth it.

                                                                     The guilt isn’t either.

My brain and my stomach and my heart are fighting each other…and now I am going to be my own mediator and tell them to stop…make peace with one another.

What has happened in the past, stays in the past.  I cannot take back the harm I have done but I need to move forward, just breathe and let it go…

Wish it were that simple for real cheaters…

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He Would Be Proud.

Yesterday was a big day for me.  Like a REALLY big deal.  Not as a big as delivering a baby or getting married “big”…more like important. More like accomplishment.

I told my story in one of my first blogs a few months back, of my journey to find good health for myself…I needed it badly for peace of mind that I wasn’t going crazy…wasting days, months, and even years of dieting and being frustrated with myself.  I was beginning to believe it wasn’t my thyroid, or age…it was the dreaded depression that was a symptom of all of those possible illnesses that I suffered from.  I was sad…I wanted to give up on myself. I couldn’t stand to look at myself anymore…who was this person that I have become?

I am not that mommy that runs five miles every morning or gets to work out in some fancy gym for an hour uninterrupted. The extent of my workouts was walking with one or two or all four of my kids to any random destination to maybe, just maybe, take a pound off…or firm up a few of those cottage cheese curds on my thighs…but no such luck.

So I took things into my own hands last year…first on my own, then with the help of a naturopathic nutritionist. I was skeptical at first. And this was my last shot. But I knew I had to believe in this.

I knew HE would believe in this.

My Grandfather…gosh, what can I say about this man? Nothing bad for starters. He was perfect…I know that isn’t possible. I am sure he had flaws that my Grandmother or his children would admit to, but growing up I never heard them say anything bad about him…nothing.

His eyes twinkled with happiness. With pride. With optimism. He was just simply amazing…and I adored him.

I titled this blog for him because he would have been 95  this Sunday. And I know he would be proud.

I miss him terribly.

He was a huge advocate of eating healthy and taking vitamins.  He taught me so much. And now I am truly embracing something that I surely know would fascinate him.  I can see me telling him about what my doctor does, and what she believes…he would ask plenty of questions. And listen to all of what I told him. I never met someone who absolutely absorbed everything that someone said, like he did.

He would be proud of me yesterday.

And this is why…

I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s (finally) and Rheumatoid Arthritis a few months back. I have suffered in silence and out loud for years…joints aching , fingers not bending. Bloating, high blood pressure, endless back pain…the list was endless…

I started seeing a Rheumatologist when my General doctor said “I give up” too many possible Autoimmune disorders for her to handle.

I went for a follow up with my Rheumatologist yesterday after countless blood tests and x-rays months ago.

I had been dreading this day.

I saw the results…not all bad, but not great either. I went in with my “dukes” up.

I was going to refuse his prescriptions. I was not going to poison this cleaned out vessel with pills that had more warning labels on them than  a pack of cigarettes.

Oh so sweet to have a doctor lean back in his chair and look at all the symptoms I came in with months ago, and to then ask me how I am doing today…

and I  state that I am wonderful.

Occasional stiffness or pain, but the weight melted off…my blood pressure yesterday was its lowest in years.  He looked at me with a smirk and said-

 Hhmm… How did you do this?

After I explained, he said that he had no reason to put me on any toxic medicines that more than likely would counteract all my efforts and that it sounds as if the Rheumatoid Arthritis is not a problem for my body anymore.

re·mis·sion

(rĭ-mĭsh′ən)

n.

1. Abatement or subsiding of the symptoms of a disease.

2. The period during which the symptoms of a disease abate or subside

And to think of all those years I suffered. Of all those years in tears and being frustrated. And within a few months I literally changed my life.

he would be oh so proud of me. I know this to be true.