Hell

Diet and health have basically gone to hell. I'm there. Hell.

Hell is out of control addiction. My addiction is food. My trigger was not a sweet treat, or even pizza. Kids. It was kids. Lots of them. My daughter split from a good riddance husband (her 2nd) and she and her four (count em 4!) children moved in with us. So much for empty nests.

In a nutshell, my full house prompted me to fill my belly to match the residential overflow I am experiencing. On the one hand, it hasn't been that bad. Kids spend half the week with dads and we are kidless for half the week. On the other . . .

Basically, any routine we had is gone. It's been four months. My daughter said three to six. It's looking like this will be years. It cost a LOT to raise 4 kids, too much to make it on a single income. While her intentions may be good, her finances aren't. But unfortunately, those intentions keep us from reaching realistic agreements about our living arrangements. We don't have set routines, there is lots of ongoing uncertainty. We are busy beyond belief and it plays itself out in self-abandonment. To my credit, I swim twice a week. From the start I made this a nonnegotiable priority. To my debit, that's the totality of my exercise and I eat far too much, far too late at night. And I drink wine. Plus, adios South Beach. Hello mac and cheese, pizza, hot dogs, bread, pasta . . .

I've gained about three pounds. Kind of surprises me it isn't more. But my belly is like a flabby tube around my midriff. Not a pretty sight. I scheduled a physical but it got postponed due to someone else's medical emergency. I was glad. I figure I need to get my act together or I'll end up on a bunch of meds. Just to prove my point, my hubby - overweight but not obese like me - did get a physical. He goes in tomorrow for a "prediabetic" appointment. His blood pressure is running on the high side but they're figuring it can all be controlled by diet. No doubt we'll be back on South Beach soon enough. Meanwhile, to prepare for his appointment, we're having pizza, pepperoni of course, with wine. Disorderly enough?

Oxymoron

Overeaters Anonymous. True, it is possible in some eating disorders for one's food consumption not to show. But unless one is into binging and purging, for the most part it's pretty hard to be an anonymous overeater. We overeaters wear our addiction around our waistline like big puffy scarlet letters. Hence, the concept of overeaters and anonymous would seem to qualify as an oxymoron. But I digress . . .

I took my granddaughter to a chiropractic appointment, following up on a sports injury. It's my chiropractor and I've seen her off and on for at least a decade. What I have never seen is a schedule for Overeaters Anonymous. I didn't even know they have such a thing in the rural area where I live. But there it was. Prominently displayed in the middle of a bulletin board. In addition to times and places, the schedule had a bunch of questions - Do you ever eat when you are not hungry? Do you ever eat so much your stomach hurts? Etc. Suffice it to say - Yes, yes, yes . . .

OMG I am an overeater anonymous! I almost wrote down the dates but didn't. It seemed silly and, well, weak. Who wants to sit around with a bunch of fat people and listen to them talk about being fat? We finished our appointment and went on our way. I didn't give it another thought until I was swimming. We'd been on a two week holiday break and I really missed swimming. I chatted with some other folks in the group who are diabetic. They mostly talked about over indulging - yes overeating. They ate too much, they ate til their stomach's hurt, etc. Got me thinking about the Anonymous thing again. I think I'll follow-up. 12 steps to slimness.

As that old Chinese proverb says, "even a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step" and I may have 12 to look forward to.