Underneath my yellow skin

Tag Archives: diet

Weight, dieting, food, and society

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Ask A Manager posts a new post around 11 p.m. (Minnatime) Sunday night – Thursday night. Last night, I read the post for today and immediately knew it was going to be, shall we say politely, a fucking shit show. One of the questions was from someone who was a member of Overeaters Anonymous and needed to weigh their food as part of their recovery program. They were going to have a lunch with their boss’s boss and was going to bring their scale with them. They didn’t think it was a big deal (think it was a she, but don’t want to presume), but their husband said it would be off-putting to the boss’s boss. They ended the letter with this:

I just plan to say I have a food plan from a nutritionist and it requires me to weigh my food. It’s true and I don’t think anyone would care. What do you think?

I knew immediately that they were being naive, and my heart hurt for them. I also knew that the commentariat would be mostly against the bringing the scale, but, man. I did not expect the intensitiy of the negativity,y shall we say. And while I absolutely should have expected all the people with dieting advice or morality judgment, it was a bit overwhelming.

Someone pointed out that breast pumps, prosthetics, and such were also out of the norm, but they slowly became normalized the more people had them/used them. A few people pointed out that ‘business norms’ don’t change if, well, no one actually does anything to change them. Plus, the reactions from a few old people (and, yes, I do know their general age) were very harsh. “You’ll look like a degenerate and no one will take you seriously! You will never, ever, ever be promoted!” I’m paraphrasing.

“Eyeball the proportions!” Um…LW did not ask for dieting tips and there’s a specific purpose in weighing the food. I can’t do it myself because my particular eating disorder was based on knowing the calories of everything I ate. I had to deliberately ignore that info for several years after. Which, was just around the  time that putting the carlorie on everything. That was a harrowing time for me.

There were a few good suggestions, including from Alison to call ahead of time and see if there was anything on the menu that would work. She said it shouldn’t matter, but it probably would. That’s something I appreciate about Alison–she’s honest about how something might be bullshit, but it was still something to think about. There have been interesting posts about what she has changed her mind about over the years. I like that she’s able to admit when she made a mistake or when she’s changed the way she thinks.

I think the best suggestions were to go ahead of time to the restaurant (assuming it was a restaurant) and way a meal then–assuming that the portion sizes were pretty consistent. One thing people don’t know or don’t care about is that people are lousy about eyeballing anything. And, the fact that the letter writer said they had to weigh their food specifically rather than ‘eyeball’ the portion size.

Other things that did not help: more than one person saying this was unhealthy behavior. Weighing their food, I mean. You are not their doctor. You aren’t qualified to make a blanket statement like that. And a few people did–said that anyone weighing their food was engaging in problematic behavior.

It was wild how much sthit people threw into this post. As I commented, I was disappointed, but not surprised. Our society is fucked up in general when it comes to food, eating, and dieting. It’s how women bond, sadly (dating), which I have railed against in prior posts. There is so much culturally wrapped up in food. I’m not surprised, but I don’t quite get it. Breaking bread together? Yeah, I understand that it’s important. But not to the point of rigidity.


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Weight of the world

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I’m fat. I’ve been fat most of my life. There were two times I struggled with anorexia with a side of bulimia the first time. I remember being proud that my thighs didn’t touch the second time around, which, I mean, even if I came by it naturally, it’s not something to be proud of, is it? It didn’t really say anything about me other than I was able to go hard at dieting. At my thinnest, I still thought I was fat and disgusting. K told me later that I looked as if I were in a concentration camp because of how worryingly thin I was.

Here’s the hard truth about anorexia–you’re never thin enough. Ever. No anorexic person looks at  themselves in the mirror and thinks, “Damn, I look good!” It’s never thin enough, and I know this from experience. The second time, I tried to lose weight the sensible way. I limited my calorie intake (too much) and my exercise (too little), and I set what I thought was a reasonable, achievable weight. Except.

The number of calories I set was based on someone my height and purported gender who never moved during the day. I worked out 2 1/2 hours a day, more on days I lifted. As I got near the weight I had set, I knocked off five more pounds because I felt I was still grotesque. I weighed myself and measured myself with a measuring tape once a week. I kept losing and still felt like it wasn’t enough. Everything came to a head one night when I was going to meet K, her husband, and their friends at First Ave for a concert. It was a group formed by members of Los Lobos, whom I really liked. I allotted myself two G&Ts, which meant I had to eat roughly 350 calories less than the 1200 I randomly decided was reasonable. Plus, I knew I would probably want to eat after getting home, so I ate maybe half my calories before going to the gig.

This is relevant because I went to the gig with maybe 500 calories under my belt. And I was going to drink, which I did once every third month or so at the most. Then, it was one drink and maybe a second drink hours later. This time, I slammed the two G&Ts within a half hour, and I fainted. One minute I was on my feet and swaying to the beat. The next minute, I was laying on the ground, dazed and confused. There were people surrounding me and shouting at me, and I did not know what to do. I was embarrassed, but also dizzy. The massive security guard scooped me up and carried me to the front door to get me some air, shouting questions the whole way. I had no capacity to answer, so K did for me. No, I was not doing drugs. No, I didn’t have anything medical. She told him that I had been dieting as he rushed me outside.


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Changing my diet meaningfully

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I’ve been gluten-free (GF) , dairy-free (DF) for four years or so. I did it for health reasons. I ‘ve always been lactose-intolerant (I’m Asian) and it’s gotten worse as I’ve gotten older. I used to be able to pop a Lactaid pill and be fine with eating dairy. Right around my forties, that stopped working for me. It took me a few years, but I finally decided that the negative results of eating dairy was not worth the pleasure of said eating. I also realized that I was having a negative reaction to eating gluten. I cut both out at the same time and felt much better.

There have been great strides made in the making of dairy-free and/or gluten-free foodstuff in the past ten years or so. I was gluten-free/dairy-free/sugar-free once twenty-five years ago or so for bronchial reasons. All the substitute foods seemed to be made out of arrowroot or tapioca, neither of which was tasty. I suffered for four months and started literally dreaming of pizza and lasagna. Nowadays, there are some very tasty substitutes, some that I like even better than the real thing. Such as Earth Balance’s vegan butter. And Green Valley’s line of lactose-free products. Katz has a great dessert line, including Twinkie and Hostess Cupcakes copies.

Before I ended up in the hospital, I was slowly cutting down on meat products for ethical reasons. I got it down to one serving a day, mostly chicken. Being already GF/DF, I don’t eat any dairy, anyway. So that was a leg up in the right direction, to mix my metaphors. I was pretty proud of myself for cutting down to one serving a day–that was down from two to three a day. That was how I grew up, by the way, with eating lots of meat. Making the jump from one serving a day to none, however, was just a mental block for me. But I was getting there. I was confident I would make it.

Oh hey. In looking up vegetarian/vegan songs, I came across one that I would never have thought was on the list. I’ll Stand By You by The Pretenders. Chrissie Hynde is a vegan and wrote the song in solidarity with animals. That’s pretty cool.


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It’s too hot, too hot, way too fucking hot, baby

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The week of mean heat continues, much to my dismay. Last summer, my AC went off maybe one or two days. It’s been on almost nonstop since Friday (it’s now Tuesday). It’s been in the eighties at 11 at night. In other words, it’s fucking hot. I have the AC on, a fan blowing on the highest setting, and plenty of ice drinks. Also hot coffee, but that’s only because I ran out of coffee. Been drinking it cold in the past few days. I have an ice pack for my thumb, which means putting it on my (naked) chest as well. I’m eating popsicles like they were going out of style.

Speaking of my thumb, I can actually bend it again! By itself! Without pushing on it! With minor clicking and pain! It’s been a week since I got the steroid shot and it’s so much better than before. What a relief. Even if it doesn’t become 100% again, I’m elated with the results. Science works, bitchez!

In the first several days after the shot, I took it really easy on my thumb. I didn’t do any of my left side weaponry or two-handed weaponry, much to my chagrin. I did the right side sword and right side saber, both which involves holding the weapon briefly with the left hand in the beginning and end of the form, but it doesn’t really put pressure on the thumb itself. In general, I don’t use my left thumb on the regular, especially now that I’ve taught myself to use my right thumb to hit the spacebar, but it’s nice that I don’t have to baby it so much.

One of the boons to being dairy-free/gluten-free now is that there are many substitutes that are nearly as good as/as good as/better than the original product. However, that’s also the down side as the subs use much fats to get that creamy mouth feel. I should have realized that on my own, but I didn’t think about it–probably chose not to think about it. Now that I’ve decided to ‘eat healthier’ (put in quotes because it’s all about the numbers), that means cutting out most of the dairy subs. Cheese, sour cream, and soft spreads–I’m using up what I have and buying no more. I’m also cutting back on chocolate and am very close to animal/fish free. Does that mean I’m going to be a default vegan? Yup, pretty much.

Still hot. Still grumpy. Gonna end it with this video.

The more things change….

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I gave up coffee. Again. Maybe not for good, but I switched back to green tea for my caffeine. Why? Because my sleep has been terrible since I started drinking it again. Green tea didn’t seem to have that effect and it’s delicious, especially with pomegranate. I haven’t had this bad of sleep in some time and it’s really messing with my head. Yes, my migraines have been kept at bay, but is it worth it? I don’t know. With the absence of the migraines, I would say yes. But, in the middle of a migraine, I would say no. It’s the duel of the conflicting health issues!

On the weapons front, I loaded up today. I did the beginning of the Double Sabre Form, sword drills, the whole Sabre Form, the Karambit Form, and spear drills. Oh, I forgot to do the one row of the Cane Form I know, so I’ll do it tomorrow. I’m still thinking about about a music/form mashup and we’ll see if I have the energy for that. One thing about going to the demo is that it fills me with possibilities–much like a kid with her nose pressed to the window of a candy shop. I want everything I can see and all at one time. My teacher likes to say that there’s a lifetime to learn things so there’s no reason to rush.

She’s right, but that doesn’t stop my brain from whispering that I’m behind and need to catch up. Not that kindly, of course, as my brain is really mean to me most of the time. Actually, I have to check that. It used to be horrid to me. I had a constant tape of negativity that looped in my brain and it just felt normal. I called him (and it was definitely a him) The Dictator and he was a cruel master. He had so many rules and regulations, it was impossible to keep them straight and not mess up.

Side note: Quick background about the Dictator. I grew up being constantly told, mostly by implication, that my feelings were not valid. They constantly got minimized and ignored, and I was not allowed to show any kind of negative emotion. Negative meaning anger, sadness, depression, etc. Only my father was allowed to show anger because he was king of the castle and allowed to do whatever he wanted. The rest of us had to tiptoe around him and catered to his every whim.

I internalized those messages to such an extent that even now I have difficulty showing human emotions in a natural manner. It’s one reason I prefer writing because it’s easier to mimic through written words than through speaking. I’m better at it, but it’s still not something I can do without thinking. In the past, I’ve been able to mimic the emotions because I’m observant and I used to do some  acting in my youth.

I want to be clear. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel the emotion on some level. If a friend told me they, say, got a great new job, then I felt happy for them deep down inside. The problem was that I had wrapped my emotions in multiple layers of cotton that I could no longer feel them. Not only that, I couldn’t even access them.

I had a flat affect at the time because I was in a deep depression and I felt as if I could never get out of it. Now, I’m still not as emotive as ‘normal’ people, but I can more easily  pass. And I have access to my emotions, albeit muted versions.


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When mental health issues collide with reality

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In the best of times, I have to push myself to do what needs to be done. This is not the best of times, and it’s even worse now. Add to that the fact that my sleep has completely reverted, and I’m a hot(ter) mess right now. I’m discouraged because it’s a vicious cycle. I’m going to bed around four-thirty in the morning, which is not good. More to the point, it’s a rather sudden change which makes it even more difficult to deal with. It took me several months, probably half a year or so, to go from going to bed at five/six in the morning to two. now, in the course of maybe two weeks, I’ve reverted back to almost five.

Logically, there’s no reason I can’t follow that timetable. I t’s not like I have to be anywhere at any specific time (except for my taiji Zoom classes–and most of them are in the afternoon). But, I wanted to be on a more normal schedule. That seems to be but a dream now. And I’m discouraged by it. There is little I can do about sleep that I haven’t done before.

Ugh. I am so not feeling it today.

Chasing a unicorn

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I’m fat. I know I’ve said this before, but it really hit home when I looked at the pictures of me from my niece’s wedding shower. Related, I looked up someone from college who I had a big crush on, and he looks fantastic. He’s two years older than I am, but he looks like he’s in his early thirties. I mean, I look younger than I am, too, but I’m still fat. Come to think of it, he’s also Asian, so maybe it’s partly our good genes. Anyway, I looked gargantuan in the pics. It’s partly because my niece is slim and gamine-like, but it’s also just that I’m fat. Have I said it often enough? I am fat.

I have spent almost thirty years battling eating disorders of one kind or another. Actually, my disordered relationship with food started ten years before that when my mother put me on my first diet with the words, “You would be so pretty if you would just lose weight.” I’ve also recounted my mother’s disordered thinking when it comes to her body and food, but I can’t emphasize how much it’s seeped into my subconsciousness. There was a stretch of time when every time we talked on the phone, she would mention her weight. She, of course, insists it’s all about health (also the excuse she gives for nagging about my weight until I put my foot down), but I realized it was bullshit because she never once voiced any concern when I was anorexic (both times). The only thing she said was, “Now your waist is skinnier than mine”, and it was in a jealous voice. The first time I deal with anorexia and bulimia, I got caught throwing up in the bathroom, and my mother was brought in to talk about it. I don’t remember how that actually came about, but I do remember my mom was not pleased and did not want to do anything about it. I’m sure it was embarrassing for her and that I brought  shame to the family. But, it also was chickens coming home to roost or however that phrase goes.

Anyway. The second bout with anorexia/bulimia included me fainting at First Ave. for a Los Lobos side project concert. Which was very disappointing because I admire Los Lobos so much. After that, I gave up on ‘dieting’ because I just could not do it in a responsible way. No matter how rationally I started (I will be honest that I wasn’t all that rational at the start of the second round, but I had at least tried not to be crazed), I spiraled out as the weeks progressed. I clearly remember how I set a goal of 150 lbs, and when I got to 155, I dropped my goal to 145. I kept doing that until I passed out.

Here’s the thing. I can’t do numbers. I don’t mean I can’t do math because of course I can. I like math. I liked everything except geometry and trig 2, and the latter was because of the teacher. I mean I can’t do numbers when I’m dieting because I lose all sense of proportion. During my first bout with anorexia/bulimia, I weighed myself twice a day. Now, this isn’t good in general, and it’s definitely not good for someone with disordered thinking. It’s not good in general because a person’s weight fluctuates on a daily basis. All the health rags say you should only weigh yourself once a week if you weigh yourself at all. It should be more about the clothing fitting better is the new train of thought, and while it’s better, it’s still too much emphasis on the actual weight loss. The second time I tried to lose weight, I tried to rely more on tape measurements than pounds, but it didn’t matter. I knew an inch was equal to five pounds, so if I didn’t lose a half inch a week, I’d be very depressed.


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Leveling up my veggie game

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though not quite as tasty.
Better for me than chips.

I need to stop buying chips; I really do. I had given them up at some point, then gave into the impulse to buy them once, and the rest is history. It’s funny because while giving up caffeine was a nightmare at the time, I haven’t really missed it at all. I bought a thing of mocha coffee (with almond milk) last week, drank it for three days, then didn’t miss it when it was gone. Chips, on the other hand, are my weakness. Which is weird because I never used to be a salt person. I’m still not actually a salt person. I don’t add it to anything, and I wipe off my chips before I eat them. Or I get low-sodium chips.

I know the conventional wisdom is to eat in moderation, but that’s just not possible for me. I think another conventional wisdom should be to know thyself. One of the problems with giving advice, especially on the internet, is that the giver tends to look at the ideal situation. Look, you know I love me some advice columns. I consider them my stories, and I read them every day. But many of the comments are very black and white without considering the nuance. So, ‘eat in moderation’ is sound advice, but insisting that someone can do it through simple willpower isn’t.

Yes, of course, I know it’s because most people are limited in their capacity to look outside themselves (one reason I get so frustrated with conversations) and have a hard time truly understanding that other people may react to something differently than they do. I saw that in the Ask A Manager comments once when someone was talking about not being able to have their favorite junk food in the house because they had no control. People made sensible suggestions like divvying it up beforehand and freezing the parts you don’t immediately eat (in the case of chocolate) or hiding it away (for chips), which were very good suggestions. The problem is for someone like me–I won’t do it. I just know I won’t. We’re not always rational beings, and it’s difficult to explain why.

For example. One time while my mother was here, she said if I folded the paper bags from Cubs correctly before putting them in the cabinet, they would take up less space. Later, I told Ian that she was correct, and that I wouldn’t be doing that. He gave me a look of pure puzzlement. He said, “You know she’s right, and yet, you won’t do it?” I cheerfully said, “Yep!”, which just blew his mind. I knew it was irrational, but in that case, I also knew the reason why. Pure childish spite.

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Trying to be positive about health

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I’ve been struggling with diet-related issues for some time now. By diet, I mean what I eat in general, not any specific diet. I don’t follow diets because that way lies danger for me. In fact, that’s one of the issues I have in trying to eat more healthily. I can’t count anything because it starts me down the road to an eating disorder. My brain has so many ways to trick me when it comes to eating disorders, and it’s part of my all-or-nothing personality. If I do something, I’m going to DO IT ALL THE WAY. The last time I tried to diet, I set it up in what I told myself was a reasonable way, but it wasn’t. And it only got even more unreasonable the longer I did it. I can’t weigh myself because of the numbers as well. I get too focused on them, and I get obsessed with them going down on a regular basis. The first time I slipped into an eating disorder, I was weighing myself twice a day, which is madness. It’s ridiculous for many reasons, but the biggest was that my mood would be entirely dependent upon what that number on the scale said.

The common advice for people who can’t handle the numbers on the scale is to only take your measurements instead. Boobs, waist, hips. In theory, it makes sense because those are truer numbers than the ones on the scale. Because muscle is denser than fat, you can weigh more and still be thinner, er, healthier at a higher weight than a lower one. There are a few issues with this. One, I know how much each half inch represents in terms of pounds. For me, a half inch is two-and-a-half pounds. So, I knew that when I lost a half inch (usually every week), it was two-and-a-half pounds. I would freak out if I didn’t lose the half inch, which meant I was just substituting one number for another.

I used to know the calorie count of everything I ate, and it was not a good thing. It’s why I don’t like having the calorie count so prominent on foods these days, even though I understand the reason behind it. In general, I think it’s a good thing for most people who may not be aware of how small a portion is or what the ballpark is for the calorie count of, say, a bagel. In addition, portion sizes are huge in America when we go out to eat, so it can be bracing to see the calorie count on the menu. I’ve learned how to stridently ignore the numbers, but it takes a considerable amount of mental energy to do so.

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The pain of my weight

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fuuuuuuck!
Itme begging for mercy.

Still having birthday thoughts (not thought about my birthday, but thoughts stemming from it being my birthday), and since today is Wellness day, let’s talk about health.

Currently, my back is giving me hell. Let me clarify: My back always gives me hell one way or the other. I store my tension in my back (and my shoulders), and I didn’t feel it for a few decades because I froze out my entire body. My taiji teacher has a saying that she got from her teacher–the first sign of relaxation is when you notice the tension. Most of us are so tense all the time, we don’t realize it any longer. We kinda block it out until something reminds us.

I’ve been working diligently on my back issues, and it’s much better than it used to be. However, I still had a problem in which I have a lower back spasm that came maybe a dozen times a week. It wasn’t too bad–it basically just caused me to clench up for a brief second, then it’d go away. I do a bunch of stretches every morning that are solely to help my back. They’ve kept the pain at bay–mostly.

Then, last night, I got up from the couch (I sit sideways so my legs are out in front of me. Shadow likes to perch on my legs as I type) and my back spasmed so hard, I screamed out loud. Not grunted. Not a ladylike yelp, but a full-body scream. Like I’m a cheerleader in a horror movie scream. I wasn’t *trying* to scream like that–it was ripped from the back of my throat. Every time I shifted, it would happen. I screamed so much, I scared my cat.

I don’t feel regular pain. I trained myself to block it out when I was a child. This pain was unblockable, and it was intense. I did not want to move at all because it hurt so much. When I was changing pants and standing on my right leg, the leg buckled as my back spasmed again. I almost fell to the ground but managed to stop in time. The pain was literally breathtaking, and I found myself moving much more slowly because I didn’t want to feel it again.

It was a warning sign to me that I had to change the way I sit. Right now, I am sitting the proper way on the couch with both my feet on the ground. Shadow is sitting to the right of me, gently thumping his tail. He tried to sit on my chest, but he didn’t have as much purchase as he would if I were lying down. I don’t think he’s mad at me, but I feel guilty, anyway.

This morning, I woke up to the same spasms. They were quite as bad as they were last night, but still caused me to double over. I did the series of back-stretching I do every other day (because I don’t love it), and the pain went away. Not completely, but roughly 80% gone. It truly was a miracle, and now, I’m going to do these exercises every day. I may do them several times a day. It truly feels like a miracle. I was not looking forward to another day of spasming and crabbing my way along, and it feels good. I still have the smaller spasms, but I can deal with that. I’m determined to make changes so I’ll never have to feel that kind of pain again.

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