Good-bye Sweet Scale, I knew him well…
Day one of our separation, my former beloved scale and me. I’m surprised by how very much I miss our dysfunctional relationship. How I defined my life by trying to meet its irrational needs.
The closest thing I can compare the antsy, ‘don’t know what to do with myself’ feeling is to when I gave up smoking. Giving up smoking is HELL on WHEELS. I had to spend about 1000 months sitting in the bathtub eating Milk Duds because I never smoked in the bathtub and the sugar gave me a rush similar to the nicotine.
Lordy, I haven’t thought of that in years!
How can NOT stepping on a physical object give me withdrawal symptoms? This is NUTSO! Suppose I just hadn’t gotten around to stepping on it yet, I wouldn’t care. It’s the whole “quitting” thing. But what am I ACTUALLY quitting?
The scale is a symbol of my deeply entrenched diet/compulsive/binge cycle. It’s the arbitrator of when I do what actions in this cycle. It’s the Lord of my brain. The director of all. The Czar of potato chips or broccoli. How can I cope all on my own?
Hmm, even rereading these true feelings kind of gives me the willies.
Let me try logic to calm these feelings – doesn’t usually work with me, but let’s give it a go.
Self! Listen Up!
- Our body weighs whatever it weighs whether or not we are on the scale.
- The scale never changed one once of weight.
- We did that by our behaviors.
- We BASED our behaviors on the FEELINGS generated by the daily scale number
- How did THAT work out for us HMMM??
Hmm, logic is kind of bossy. I don’t think I respond well to bossy while in the painful throws of withdrawal. Let’s try empathy. More my style.
Self Honey, Come let me give you a hug!
- That scale has never been kind to us and we deserve kindness and respect.
- I love you self no matter what we weigh.
- It’s OK to be whatever size we are because we are MORE then just our body.
- I know it’s scary, but the scale can’t tell us how you feel inside.
- It’s going to be ok. We can trust our body to tell us what to eat.
Wow, I feel kind of better with the empathetic approach, but still suspicious and slightly pissed off. Like when your mom tells you you are pretty when all of the kids call you names based on your looks, and when the therapist says how good you are when you are paying money for them to be “into your feelings”. Nice to hear, but I can’t quite let it in.
How about I try the rational “What the hell have we got to lose?” approach?
Self, let’s think about this together
Q. Self What’s the Worse that can happen?
A. I can gain 100 pounds and not notice.
Q. On a scale of 1-10 with 1 being not a chance in hell, and 10 you can bet your life, how likely is that to happen?
A. Umm 2?
Q. how likely is it you will start to pay more attention to your inner feelings without a daily weigh-in?
A. Umm 10?
Q. And on a scale of 1-10 if this doesn’t work out for us, can we change our mind?
A. 10, but I would look like a failure and a fool if I changed my mind.
Q. What’s wrong with that?
A. I’d feel badly
A. Because if I appear perfect and good and that all is well with me, people will finally accept me.
Q. Who has accepted you more. The scale or the brave companions who know you are NOT perfect?
A. I guess we can toss the Milk Duds.