Those hypnotic eyes

I’m going to a hypnotherapist today. He’s going to help me get and stay motivated to exercise more, drink less, and maybe even like more vegetables.

I’ve had to write out my expectations for my first three sessions. Trying to wrap my brain around my weight issue was really difficult. I understand now that some of my problem is simply my refusal to introspect so honestly about the issue.

I know that Monday was Self-Injury Awareness Day, but in my view, obesity, bulimia and anorexia are common — and commonly relegated to the world of the shallow, lazy, or runway models — methods of self injury. I spent the better part of eight years starving myself. I was only aware of the problem in the last two. Graduating from college, getting a job and realizing that, Hey! I have total control of my life! drastically changed my attitude toward food. Eating was once a control issue; now it’s one of life’s sensuous (I don’t mean in the dirty way, pervert! I mean that eating includes so many of our senses and includes many sensations!) pleasures.

Initially, I planned to write out my problem(s) for the hypnotherapist longhand. Then I knew I’d focus more if I spent a few minutes typing it up. Then I decided the safest place to store this document is probably Live Journal. I expected to make this a private post, as I frequently do with my more introspective journal entries. But maybe, just maybe, being the emotional equivalent of Richard Hatch on Survivor will make me feel more accountable. More committed to changing my life.

Overview of problem:
Although I’m not grossly obese, I’m heavier than I’ve ever been. I don’t like what I see when I look in the mirror: my thighs touch, my stomach’s not flat, and I have hail damage on my butt and thighs. I’m a size 6 trapped in a size 12 body.

I have started an exercise “regimen” again after almost six months of inactivity. After about two months, I haven’t seen any results. Even if I do see results, I’ll probably quit working out as soon as I get back from vacation in July, and the cycle will continue. I sit at a computer all day at work, then I love watching TV when I get home. I also love doing projects around the house, so I frequently exert myself painting, refinishing or even moving furniture. Those activities should probably be reinforced.

I know what I should and shouldn’t eat. Overall, I have decent eating habits, but I don’t like very many green vegetables. I love chocolate and wine so much, I’m actually sad at the thought of ending my relationship with them. I know I have some maladjusted attitudes about food — specifically a love-hate passion. I love chocolate, but I hate feeling like a fat slob if I eat it. I hate that I struggle with the temptation-to-eat-all-the-chocolate-in-sight, even though I’ve generally stopped doing so.

I eat out at restaurants a lot. I enjoy cooking at home (and therefore controlling how much fat, butter, salt, oil, etc. I eat), lately I’m too tired to do it nightly. My beloved isn’t always as prompt at cleaning the kitchen after dinner as I would prefer, so coming home to a mess in the kitchen that I have to clean up before I can get started with dinner is very frustrating. This annoyance with my beloved probably affects my diet somehow. She also works out with a trainer twice a week after work. Those nights, we don’t eat dinner until very late. That habit has also bled over onto other weeknights. Eating dinner at 9 pm and then going to bed is probably why I’m not seeing results from exercising when I get home from work.

I want to be bathing suit material before my vacation in July. I want to want to work out. A lot. I want to be a morning person again so I can either exercise in the mornings before work, or leave work early enough to exercise and still eat dinner at a decent hour (like between 7 and 8). I want to be confident in my physical appearance. I want to stay motivated to continue exercising for the rest of my life. I don’t want to fall victim to arthritis, back pain, knee pain and old age the way my mother and grandmother have. I want to be fit and energetic until I’m hit by a bus at 92 years old. I want to stop feeling guilty when I do drink wine, eat chocolate, pasta or both buns on a turkey burger. I want to love myself unconditionally.


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