Dieting and Security Or, why I can lose weight alone

During my 49 hours without power, I had a lot of time to think. Besides reading, what the hell else am I going to do? (I had candles – duh – and an oil lamp, and was able to read and take notes about what I was thinking about at night. That’s probably the only thing that saved my sanity, actually).

I thought about a lot of things. I pre-wrote the beginning of two stories. I thought a lot about my inner-conflict about my weight and self-image. I thought about other little things that tend to nag on my brain.

But what I want to write about right now is dieting and weight.

I discovered something, while I was trying to think back on my dieting pattern: I don’t diet when I feel secure.

For instance: I dieted a LOT while I was with M. I went from a size 20 to a size 12. I never felt secure in that relationship, and I realize now that I was dieting, looking for that security. I always believed (don’t laugh, I’m serious here), that if I looked better and was more sexy (and yes, I did believe that to be sexy, you had to be thin. Part of me still believes that. I’m working on that), he would treat me better. Obviously, that didn’t happen. I did eventually stop dieting, when the insecurity rose to such a peak level that I was having anxiety attacks. I used food to self-medicate. Food was comfort. Food made me happy for the moment. I had horrible guilt attacks after I ate, and swore to myself that I wouldn’t do it again, but I did. Over and over. Once he and I broke it off, I started dieting again, and got myself back to a 14 before I went to see C in Las Vegas (the weekend we got back together). I felt secure with C almost immediately, and the dieting fell by the wayside – again.

For instance: When C signed up for the Navy and initially left, he and I’s relationship was at something of a crossroads. We’d nearly broken up before he signed up to go (This was my problem – I was stressed out from work, and he wasn’t working and it was making me nuts), and when he left, we didn’t really have any solid ground. We weren’t “dating” or “going steady” or anything. We left it as a “we’ll see what happens”, and I knew that I wanted him, but I didn’t know how it would play out. I went from a size 22 to a size 16 before he asked me to marry him, and stayed there until we decided that I was going to move to Connecticut (where he was). It seemed that overnight, the weight started to come back.

For instance: In Connecticut, when things started to get tough between us (his stress about school, my stress about working two contracts. Neither of us had a minute to spare, it seemed, and we stopped having sex. I relate the amount of sex you have to how the relationship is progressing. I know that’s wrong, and I’m working on fixing that, but currently, that’s how I think. Well, not right now, since C’s gone, but normally), I started dieting again. A month or so later when things got back to normal, I quit.

For instance: When he was preparing to leave for this six month cruise, I was preparing to diet. I knew that there would be times that I would be lonely here, and would feel down, and if I was dieting, I would have something to focus on, and be proud of. And I did start, too. But when my grandfather died, and I went home – on the drive back from there, I started really thinking about my motivations for losing weight (and if you’ve read the archives of this blogger back in August, you’ll see the turning point for that), and decided that I wasn’t going to “diet”. I was going to just watch what I ate, and see what happens.

Beginning to see the pattern? I knew you would.

It shocked me, when I put those pieces together. I’m not really sure what to do with all that information. I guess I could read that a few ways: First, I base entirely too much of my self-image on someone else. That’s probably quite true, and not an easy thing to admit. Second, I’m not as unhappy being overweight as I believe myself to be – if I were, my security wouldn’t really have anything to do with when I diet and when I don’t. And third – I made a dandy fucking choice when I got back together with C in 2000.