Proof that Therapy Might Be Working.August 30, 2012 at 12:49 pm | Posted in Crazy Talk (aka: Therapy) | 10 Comments
I’ve been seeing my therapist now for a year and a half.
A LOT of money spent.
All out of pocket.
I kind of don’t even want to do the math of how much it’s been. Because it’s really hard to justify, sometimes. Because emotional healing can’t really be directly attributed to the investment I’m putting in. So, really, I’ve kind of put on the blinders on when it comes to looking at the money I’ve spent on it.
But I have to say.
I think it’s working.
I spend most of my time with my therapist right now talking about infertility, of course. But often, we touch on stuff that I have always thought as being tangential to the whole IF thing.
Body image is one of them. I mean, it makes sense that I hate my body since I have a hard time getting pregnant.
Except that I’ve seen Fat Serenity in the mirror for many, many years.
And even now, when I’m at a healthy weight, I see fat whenever I look in the mirror.
And I’m very good at punishing myself for it. I am good at portion control, upping my exercise, counting calories. I’m very good at telling myself I don’t deserve that bowl of ice cream because I didn’t run that day.
My little OCD streak comes out, and whenever I make a choice to indulge, I spend way too much energy feeling badly about it.
A while back, my therapist expressed support when I told her I should just get rid of my scale. Because I weigh myself every couple of days. I get worried about a swing of 2-3lbs. And being up 5lbs for an extended amount of time makes me exceedingly anxious.
Right now? I weight 5lbs heavier than my self-imposed “allowable maximum weight.”
It just never really came off after my cycle in July. It’s frustrating as hell, actually. Because it will NOT come off with the slight modifications I’ve made. I’ve swapped out my morning large wrap for a smaller wrap. I’ve tried to snack on fruit and vegetables whenever I am hungry. I’ve upped my protein. I make healthy choices.
And always before now, if I was up 5lbs for this long, I’d rejoin Weight Watchers. Or count calories. Or change up my dinners and eat salads every night. Or skip a meal here and there until my weight came back down into the “okay” range.
But I’ve been resistant, this time. Unwilling to really work hard at getting rid of it.
Because all I keep thinking is that, hell, it’s just a NUMBER.
I am finally back up to running 25 miles a week. I eat when I’m hungry. I have also really worked on being mindful of understanding when I have the urge to snack: am I hungry, or am I just looking for something to DO? I enjoy a glass of wine, or a beer, here and there.
Eating, to me, is an experience I want to enjoy. And right now, I’m unwilling to stop enjoying it so that I can reach some number which, if I’m being honest, makes me no happier than I am today.
I lose 5lbs, and I want another.
When does it stop?
The answer: it doesn’t stop.
So I’ve done nothing. I’ve been sitting with this feeling of wanting to be thinner but unwilling to do anything about it. I’ve talked with my therapist about how I think it’s the right thing to do; just wait this out. Because really, I’m starting to see that my body image issues flare up when I’m cycling. (Something to do with insecurity and fear, I’m sure.)
And this morning, on my run, it struck me.
My resistance to doing something about my weight is actually… progress.
And even better, I love what my body can DO. I can run half marathons, 10ks, 5ks, 5 mile races. Carry my 4 year old up the stairs, upside down, tickling him. Hike 8 miles of our favorite trail with my husband this coming weekend for our 8 year anniversary (cool, huh?). Swim for an hour. Ride a bike. Play tag.
It doesn’t make the OCD voice in my head go away. I got home from my run, and just before my shower, I looked down at my belly and tried to suck in my gut. And failed. I still see Fat Serenity when I look in the mirror.
But look at what I can DO with this body.
All of a sudden? The money I’ve spent on therapy doesn’t seem so bad.
*This picture was taken at the beginning of a local relay race last Wednesday night. I ran the third leg, and I was so FREAKING ANXIOUS to run that when I was able to go, I was fast, and happy, and so relieved. And this picture cracks me up, because I look all graceful, and happy, and zen. 🙂