I wrote last week about slipping back into emotional eating as opposed to eating when my body actually requires food. A little like Hermione Granger in the Harry Potter series, when I need answers, I go to libraries. This time I was lucky enough to find The Emotional First Aid Kit: A Practical Guide to Life after Bariatric Surgery by Cynthia L. Alexander, PsyD.
Cynthia Alexander has spent many years working with bariatric patients both pre- and post- surgery. She's heard all the excuses and can teach you how to think logically and refute them. She also knows a ton of tips and tricks to help clients end negative self-talk, practice behavior modification, and start eating properly.
For the last couple of months, I've been stalled on my weight loss. I haven't regained any weight, but I haven't lost any more, either. Part of this plateau is just a normal post-surgery weight-loss patterns, but the other part of the problem is all me.
A few days ago, you see, I decided to keep a food log, and I was horrified at what was--and wasn't--going into my mouth. Basically, I had reduced my diet to chocolate peanut butter, Reece's Peanut Butter Cups, Diet Coke, and an occasional glass of milk.
Those are exactly the types of foods I used to eat--though in much larger quantities--during my old day of bingeing or emotional eating.
The picture I'm using for my post today was taken about two weeks ago. It shows my mom standing beside a sign posted on Main Street of a small Kansas town. The sign reads: "Satan Called. He wants his weather back."
Ain't it the truth? For the last two weeks the temperature has registered 90 degrees or more by ten o'clock in the morning. We've had maybe three drops of rain during that time period, and all the local weather forecaster has to promise is more of the same.
This kind of summer heat wave is miserable for anybody, but when you're overweight, it's agony. Last summer when the weather heated up, I could only bear to walk about ten steps at a time before I had to pause and rest. Sweat soaked my clothes, ran down my face, and stung my eyes. By breath came in painful gasps, and my heart pounded so hard I actually worried it might just stop altogether.
