Resolutions

It's that magical time of year again.  That time were we flit from party to party, gorging cookies and fudge and Christmas crack and Dutch babies and ham and potatoes and we eat more butter than Paula Deen and more sugar than Wilford Brimley.

Yeeeeeeeeee Haw!

 The spirit of the season, for me, is being with family and loved ones...which frequently seems to revolve around food.  We go to my in-laws house for lunch, my parents house for dinner, co-workers bring delicious treats to work, neighbors bake cookies.  

How in the world do we justify this?

Well, for some of us, this is how we eat all the time, so it's just another day/week/season.

For others, we somehow have the willpower to resist everything delicious and unhealthy that's put in front of is.

And yet others live a primarily healthy lifestyle but have a holiday free-for-all.  Why?

SWEET, GLORIOUS, NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS ARE COMING!

Yes!  That moment when you wake up on January 1st, the whole glorious year ahead of you, is amazing.  It feels like a clean slate!  Every mistake, silly thing, "cheat" day, skipped workout, foul remark, sin, whatever that you participated in over the last year seems like a distant memory...it might as well not exist any more.  You are perfect and your track record is unblemished.  New year, new start.

Remember that scene in Forrest Gump when Forrest and Lieutenant are celebrating New Years with Cunning Carla and Long Limbs Lenore?

You can almost smell the stale cigarette smoke and Dr.Pepper fumes, can't you?

Well, either Carla or Lenore (which one, I haven't the slightest) has a great line, even though she's only in the movie for like 2 minutes.  She says to Forrest:

 "Don't you just love New Years?  You get to start all over again.  Everybody gets a second chance."

And it's so true.  "New year, new me" is the motto of so many people I know.  New Year's Resolutions is one of my most and least favorite traditions.  I've never really gotten in to NY Resolutions - I've always been more of a birthday resolutions type of gal.  For me, turning another year older is a fitting time to try to make a positive change; especially one you've been thinking about for a loooooong time but haven't had the motivation/courage/gumption/ability to try to achieve.  But that's just me.  Lots of people are gung-ho about their NY Resolutions.  And really, ANY time is a fitting time to make a positive change in your life...but New Year's is a milestone date, and people take the opportunity to make promises to themselves.

Preach it, Morpheus.

Until about a month in.  Maybe more if they're REALLY dedicated.  And then a lot of people fall off the resolution wagon.

I looked up some statistics on New Year's Resolutions from the Journal of Clinical Psychology (and no, I will not cite it in APA format).  Apparently 75% of individuals last through one week of their new resolution.  Seventy-one percent last two weeks, 64% make it through an entire month, and only 46% are succeeding at their resolutions after six months or more.

Forty-six percent.  Less than half of us who make resolutions will be successful at six months, and my guess is, even less will be successful long-term.

Why?

THINGS GET IN THE WAY.

We have jobs.  We have wives or husbands or partners or girlfriends or boyfriends or significant others.  We have kids.  We have dogs or cats or parakeets or potbelly pigs or horses or lizards or hedgehogs.  We have houses to maintain.  We have bills to pay.  We have graduate school.  We like to marathon Netflix in our spare time.

In short: We have lives.  Busy, exhausting, stressful lives.  

Another way of putting this:  We do not make ourselves a priority.

Yet another way of putting this:  Some of us thrive on martyrdom and don't ask for help/support when we need it.

We ABSOLUTELY need to make ourselves a priority.  And we ABSOLUTELY need a support system.

I've had a huge mind frame shift this past year, where I'm treating myself like the "leading lady" of my life for the first time, and it's amazing.  

Don't get me wrong...sometimes my "wants" still come after others' "needs."  When my husband is sick and needs me to go to CVS for cough drops and Theraflu instead of getting a second workout in, I do it.  When my dog needs to be walked so I have to take a study break, I do it.  When a co-worker's child is in town from across the country for only a few days, I pick up her shift so she can spend time with him.  But it's all give and take.  When I'm sick, Jeff brings me pho and tea.  Taco rewards me in snuggles and by being adorable.  My co-workers are so flexible and help me out by picking up extra shifts when my sister is in town (and during finals week).  So I'm not saying be a selfish a-hole 100% of the time.  You have to make others your first priority at times.  That pretty much goes without saying.

However, we need to set goals for ourselves and make them a high priority in our lives.  And we need to surround ourselves with people who support our goals and ideally, share our goals.

When I told my husband I wanted to go back to school, we both went about making my success in school a high priority in our lives.  My husband got a new job so we could move to Appleton, I got a job in Appleton, we found a place to live in the area.  We decided to put the quest for a human baby on hold, but decided to get a dog so we'd still have something cuddly to come home to (that's slightly lower-maintenance than a human child.  Slightly).  I made sure my work hours would work around school, he made sure his work hours would allow him to occasionally see his wife.  My success in school is a high priority for both of us because it affects both of our lives.

The same thing happened with getting healthy.  When I was given my ATF membership (thanks Jen, my queen!) and we started seeing a nutritionist, we both started eating better and calling the other one out on unhealthy habits.  When we inadvertently sabotage ourselves or each other, we talk about it.  Eventually, Jeff saw how freakishly strong I was getting and decided to join the gym, too, before I could beat him at arm wrestling (kidding...this may or may not be why he joined.  Also, I will never beat that monster at arm wrestling).

I consider my friends and family a big part of why I've been so successful at last year's birthday resolution.  They support my goals and several of them are either trying to get healthier or living insanely healthy lifestyles already.  It really does help!  

And no, I'm not saying to give up your friends and get new ones.  If your resolution is to quit smoking, by no means do you have to stop hanging out with your smoker friends.  But you do need at least one person in your corner who doesn't smoke or who has successfully quit smoking, to cheer you on and back you up.  They will be your sounding board and motivator.  They'll put you in check if/when you mess up.  They are an integral part of your success.

I'm lucky, I have a LOT of people around to keep me accountable.  The gift-giver, Jen.  Do I want to let her money and time go to waste?  HELL to the no.  Likewise for my nutritionist and trainer...if I don't follow their instructions and do what they tell me to do at home and at the gym, I'm essentially wasting their time and straight up disrespecting them.  I frequently ask myself "What would Amanda/Donovan do?"  I want to be alive, mobile, and healthy for as long as possible to keep being ridiculous with my husband, besties, sibs, and parents, so they're motivating, also.  Even my dog keeps me in check...he needs daily walks and I need to find the time and energy to do it.  And despite his teeny little legs, that fool is FAST.

The moral of the story is this.  Set a resolution if you want.  Or change today.  Whatever works for you to set and achieve your goals!  Any time is a fantastic time to make positive changes in your life.  Whether that includes fitness or not, strive to be even more awesome in 2015!  Find yourself a support system that will help you meet your goals.  You are worth the time and energy and I hope you can find a way to prioritize your goal this year!  

One last comment: Fellow gym-goers, I know January can be frustrating.  The gym is flooded with newbies.  The squat rack is always taken (usually by somebody curling).  Your trainer is booked out for weeks and there's even a wait for cardio machines.  

Welcome, resolution gym-goers!  I hope you stick around so I'm not the new kid any more :)

Two things to keep in mind: 

1) As stated above, 54% of the resolution gym-goers will be gone in 6 months (which may make you happy but actually is pretty depressing when you think about it).  So hang in there, you'll have the gym to yourself all too soon.

2) You were new once, too.  Be patient and don't be a butthead.  Hope they stick with it so in a few months, they'll know what they're doing and can spot you.

Done and done.

Coping Mechanisms

***Trigger warning: self injury, alcohol, drugs, food addiction***

I posted this blog about a week ago, then chickened out and promptly took it down after a few hours.  It's hard to talk about "demons," addictions, coping, and the horrible things I used to do to myself.  It's actually really triggering and weirdly isolating for me...it reminds me of how secretly messed up I was (am?) and that makes me feel like a weird-o.  But I've set out on a mission to be totally truthful about this entire ugly, amazing, rewarding, challenging, sweaty process, warts and all.  

I am fascinated by coping mechanisms.  The way that we, as individuals and/or entire groups or societies, handle problems and stress in different ways is so interesting to me.

No longer true, but this graphic did strike me as funny, given the topic of today's blog post.

And my coping mechanisms have always been...well...let's call them "flawed."  (Diplomatic code for "completely messed up").

Through this process, I've come to appreciate the power of honesty and transparency.  I hid parts of myself for such a long time from everyone, including friends, family, and even my husband (often unsuccessfully, but I sure did try!).  Keeping things to myself made me feel like I had something to be ashamed of, when I have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of (except my secret love of Taylor Swift).

So let's talk about my coping mechanisms, shall we?

First...the old.

Things I've given up doing.  

Some I'm glad are gone.  

Some I miss daily.  

They were as comforting as a snuggly afghan crocheted by my sassy and adorably mean grandma Lois, and when you wrap up in it you can still smell her...a faint whiff of homemade marinara, vanilla extract, and Virginia Slims.  (If that's not comforting to you, sub in your own happy memory and you'll get the idea).

Oh Lordy, here we go.

Former coping mechanisms that I have given up (for the most part) in no particular order:

1) Food.  Obviously.  I did not eat my way to 363 pounds (my heaviest weight ever, displayed here on the interwebs for all of you to read) by being mindful and paying attention to how I treated my body and what I put in it.  I would "numb" myself with food when I felt anxious, or ashamed, or scared, or angry, or even just bored.  I'm Italian...and we also celebrate with food.  Yikes.

2) Alcohol.  Ugh, I'm getting a headache just thinking of the epically terrible two-day hangovers I used to get from railing cheap vodka and Boone's Farm.  *barf*  My freshman year of college is a hazy blur of basements at party houses and Southern Comfort/Mountain Dew cocktails in random dorm rooms.  I was once called "a female Jim Morrison" because I would seriously drink anything you put in front of me.  Not proud of that nickname, let me tell you.  

3) Drugs.  This was also an excellent way to forget about things.  Hazy and comfortable, exactly the way I wanted to be.  You don't have to feel ANYTHING when you're stoned all the time (again, I feel the need to reiterate, this habit is donezo...just in case anyone at the Wisconsin DRL or the nursing board secretly follows my blog).

4) Literally pulling my hair out.  Sweet mother of crap, I can't believe I'm writing this.  I have the glorious combination of self-injuring and OCD-like symptoms, officially called trichotillomania. This means I literally pulled my hair out.  For years.  In fact, I still have a bald spot that is coming back in.  It's both a reflex you do without thinking about and somehow also a direct command that you must obey.  And it's not easy to stop.  Imagine this:  There is a mosquito on your arm.  You feel his little mosquito feet walking around, looking for the perfect place to bite you.  It feels weird and it's itchy.  EVERY SINGLE FIBER OF YOUR BEING is telling you to swat him away.  For people with trichotillomania, pulling is/was exactly the same way...it makes absolutely no sense but every single molecule in my body wanted me to pull out my hair.  It was like an uncontrollable drive within myself and it had to be done or I wouldn't feel right, or wouldn't feel in control.  And it hurt but it felt good to hurt myself...for some reason I thought I deserved it and it was gratifying to punish myself (straight effed, I know).  Interesting factoid: Olivia Munn (aka actress and Aaron Rodgers' girlfriend) has trichotillomania also.  Also, this is really embarrassing to share but I'm on a quest for transparency here... so the next time you see me, if you could pretend you never read this and NOT bring it up, I'd really appreciate it.  Also, try not to stare at my hair or I'll be on to you.

Coping mechanisms I have kept from the olden days:

1) Swearing.  Again, obviously.  Swearing is an amazing defense mechanism.  Many types of people are less likely to get too close when you have a filthy pirate mouth.  Swearing is viewed by many as unfeminine and unattractive...and when, subconsciously, that's how you want to appear, it's an amazing tool to have.  I have a love/hate relationship with swearing.  Mostly because I am not offended by it at all.  I'm offended by name-calling, but the f-bomb doesn't raise my hackles in the least.  Ho hum.

Brand-spanking new coping mechanisms:

1) Sweating like a pig (even though apparently, pigs don't sweat.  The more you know).  This is my favorite one.  The gym is my therapy.  Did I ever, EVER, in a billion years, think I would say that?  Ever?  Um...no.  It's an amazing outlet for frustration and anger, even sadness (although working through sadness at the gym sometimes results in crying at the gym which can be AWKWARD...just ask my trainer).  Good AND bad days are improved by gym time. It's amazing, when you feel great, to leave the gym feeling even better.  It's even more amazing, when you feel like crap, to leave the gym feeling great.  Half dead and sore, but great.  Lifting heavy things is unbelievably empowering and uplifting.  It's hard to be sad when you know you get to deadlift.

2) This lovely blog.  Again, an amazing outlet for frustration, anger, sadness, JOY, etc.  Sharing what's happening, my struggles and setbacks and accomplishments, has brought me so much peace through this process!

Who else remembers this from middle school guidance?

3) Actually feeling my feelings.  This is EXHAUSTING and was really hard to begin doing.  But if I'm mad, I just let myself be mad.  If I'm sad, I cry.  If I'm happy, I do an embarrassing happy dance or make out with my husband (you're welcome, Jeff).  I don't numb myself with anything anymore, which is so tiring.  How have you all gone through your entire lives feeling everything all the time??  Why didn't anybody tell me it was so tiring but so awesome? Seriously.  I've never taken so many dang naps in my life, yo.  But I've also never felt more in tune with myself and the world around me.  Things are glorious and awful, hideous and lovely.  It's amazeballs.

Now, how did I stop doing all that old unhealthy crap and start doing the new stuff?  

I wish I could tell you.  I wish I could say, "here, world, it's the magic pill that made me stop doing horrible things to my body to cope with my problems and deal with things in a constructive way instead!  You're welcome and goodnight!"

But the truth is this: I have absolutely no idea.  Seriously, I think voodoo magic or baby gypsy tears were involved.  I've made conscious efforts to let go of my coping with food and ripping my hair out before...many many many many times before, in fact.  And I've never been able to do it.  The intoxicants were easy to stop...somehow I never got addicted to them (which given my personality is a frickin Christmas miracle), I just liked them a lot.  

I can only say, the motivation from my health gurus and my amazing family and besties finally made me look at my coping mechanisms and realize that they are less than awesome...and to run full tilt boogie towards my new addictions.