karaokegal (karaokegal) wrote,
karaokegal
karaokegal

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Make yourself a dang quesadilla!

I'm one of the few people on the planet who doesn't find Napoleon Dynamite to be remotely funny, but that line does stick with me. Obviously since I live in Mission District, I did not have to make my own dang or gosh-darn anything.


So let's talk in detail about how the crazy lady ate her first quesadilla in MONTHS: Mindfully.





We're back in Geneen Roth territory now.

Here are her guidelines:

Eat when you are hungry.

Eat sitting down in a calm environment. This does not include the car.

Eat without distractions. Distractions include radio, television, newspapers, books, intense or anxiety-producing conversations or music.

Eat what your body wants.

Eat until you are satisfied.

Eat (with the intention of being) in full view of others.

Eat with enjoyment, gusto and pleasure.



It all sounds simple and practical, but some of this is very painful for me, and for many others or there wouldn't need to be guidelines. Eating "real" food, i.e. stuff that tastes good and is full of cheesy, sugary, delicious calories, as opposed to weighed and measured "healthy" rabbit food is FRAUGHT with all the shame and anxiety inculcated in me as long as I can remember because of my father's food and body issues. The man who loved me so much fucked me up so badly with this stuff.

So the normal way I would "enjoy" the awesome mushroom-garlic quesadilla made by El Toro on the corner of Valencia and 17th, would be to get it home and inhale it as quickly as possible, eating with my fingers and hiding all evidence afterwords. I never got into purging, but only because (much like smoking) I could never get the hang of it, so then I'd be left with my bloated, greasy self hatred.

Yesterday, I went to El Toro, ordered the quesadilla for there, and proceeded to sit down and it, slowly with a knife and fork. I ate as mindfully as I could, concentrating on every bite and trying not to bolt any of it down.

Let me tell you, I fucking hate this bullshit. I want to bolt my food. I want to get as much it into my gut as quickly as possible and I want to read while I'm doing it so that I don't have to be conscious of what I'm doing.

Stop when you're satisfied, as opposed to full, also sucks...hey, that's my FOOD! I paid for it. I get to shove every bit of it down my gullet.

But I did it. I even brought a piece of fruit with me to eat afterwards to shut down the grease pit and signal to my mouth that the splurge is over.

I worked to the extent that I enjoyed the quesadilla, didn't get stuffed and was able to leave a little on the plate.

Then I went home and took a nap. When I woke up I had some fruit and veggie and stayed on track for rest of the day. So thus far, the splurge hasn't triggered a dumpster dive.

Hubby is being pissy because I announced that instead of seeing 135 as a goal weight, I now want it to be 131, for a total 60 lb drop.

I'll get some input from my GP tomorrow, but I'm basically terrified of having to "stop" and try to maintain a lost instead of continuing it.

I'm looking at the following options. Taking on a second splurge meal a week---which would mean two days where I'm not counting calories, and five where I am. Going back to writing things down, but not actually counting calories, although I've memorized most of the things I eat regularly so my brain is going to know. Go from a weekly scale encounter to every other week and possibly once a month.

If anyone has any thoughts...preferably people who have actually accomplished it, please let me know. Every time someone brings up maintenance, I just want to quote Dylan: He not busy being born is busy dying.
Tags: blog, diet, food, journal, personal
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