Happy Thanksgiving!

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday and this year, in particular, I have many things to be thankful for.

1. My health. It's been a trying year in terms of that, but I'm feeling good and am taking steps to be even healthier. I'm very grateful for my team of doctors, who've been amazing.

2. My husband. For the past two years, Jon has had to care for me after I broke my leg and then as I dealt with having diabetes. He's cheered me on the whole way and has been patient with me during the tougher times. I'm very lucky to have a wonderful man in my life.

3. My family. I've had my ups and downs with my parents, but they're basically good people who have raised me to be an interesting person. We've been in a better place lately, too. I also have fantastic in-laws. Our Thanksgiving today was so much fun and it only reinforced what a wonderful family I have. And I have an awesome cat, too!!!

4. My friends. I have so many close friends who are like family and who've gone out of their way for me. Sometimes I doubt my friendships, which is a bad habit on my part, so I need to remind myself that I have some great people in my life.

5. My weight loss (so far). I'm now a size smaller than I was a couple of months ago. I've gone from a 4X to a 3X, so I'm still huge, but less so. It's been fun digging out stuff from my closet and wearing it as if it's new. I found a pink cashmere sweater that I'd purchased last year. They didn't have my size, but I ordered it anyway, hoping I'd shrink into it. I finally have! I'd love to be a 2X by January -- and I'd love to finally be at a weight that my scale will register. That's a goal in itself.

6. Being able to walk again. Between my surgery and extreme weight gain, I could barely walk a block last winter. Now I can walk a few miles and actually enjoy it! I've also begun wearing cute shoes again. Up until recently, I was wearing nothing but sneakers, but I'm back to wearing dressier footwear. I like looking polished.

I'm also lucky because I get three Thanksgivings this year! Last night, my friend invited me over for a pre-holiday dinner; then tomorrow, we're going to a friend for a post-holiday brunch/tree decorating session. It's been fun, but dealing with holiday food has been a bit of a challenge. I think I'm doing okay, though.

My friend made a point to keep the pre-holiday dinner light. I brought hummus, cheese and grapes and she then served veggie soup with blue corn chips and salad. Nothing was too heavy or unhealthy and the dinner was a nice way to kick off the holiday weekend.

Today was a bit tougher because we went to Jon's aunt and uncle. His aunt is an amazing cook and always serves a ton of food. I was careful; I didn't overindulge on appetizers (even though she served this amazing striped five-flavored cheese!) and took little bits of the dishes. There was turkey, of course, plus a broccoli/spinach casserole, meatballs and zucchini/apple salad that Jon made. I stayed away from the potatoes, stuffing and bread. I took seconds of the spinach/broccoli and turkey, but ended up leaving most over. For dessert, I took one gluten-free cranberry chocolate cookie. And then this is where it gets tricky: Jon's aunt presented me with a box of sugar free pastries: a mini cheesecake, Napoleon and mini cream puff. She wanted me to feel like I could fit in since I'm diabetic and I didn't have the heart to tell her that I just don't keep sweets in the house. My dessert is usually Greek yogurt.

However, I ended up "needing" the desserts. Lately, my blood sugar has been dropping really low, right into a dangerous zone. I need to speak with my doctor about adjusting my insulin, but obviously, I wasn't going to reach her today. Anyway, when I tested after dinner, my sugar was in a good place: 122. But when I came home a couple of hours later, it had dipped down to 60 and I was getting the shakes. So I ended up eating the cream puff and some cereal to get it back to normal. Even though it was sugar free, it still had a carb-y cake shell and it did the trick. Sometimes diabetes is very weird. Most of the time, I stick with low-sugar, low-carb fare, but a carb-y treat sometimes helps knock me back to normal. It's a constant balancing act. I should probably keep a carton of orange juice in the house.

Tomorrow, we're going to the diner for breakfast, so I'll be in good shape. I'll get an omelet and whole wheat toast, which should keep me going for a few hours. I've come to appreciate diners because they have so many options for me.

Catching Up And Still Losing

Whew! November has been a really busy month, but everything is going well. I've been on the thyroid meds for a few weeks now and am definitely feeling the difference in my weight; I now feel a lot lighter on my feet and all of my clothes are hanging on me. Even getting off the couch is a lot easier as I no longer have to heave myself up. More and more people are noticing the change. I still have such a long way to go, but for now, I'll be thrilled when I hit the 200s again. If I think too far ahead, it feels like I'll never lose, so I have to celebrate how far I've come in just a few months.

We just got back from a short vacation in upstate NY and I'm very proud of how I did in terms of eating and exercising. We didn't do tons of walking because we were up there for a friend's wedding, but we did do some: we explored Rochester -- which is a really nice city, by the way -- and went up to Niagara Falls. I especially enjoyed walking along the river in Rochester. We did about two miles, but it was relaxing. In the past, I would've been complaining about back troubles, but I didn't have any this time around, which was a relief.

As for eating, I indulged a little bit, but didn't follow my typical pattern where I go a little crazy on vacation. I had some great food, like barbecue in Rochester, but watched my portions and frequently checked my blood sugar. I "cheated" one time when I had a couple of spoonfuls of Jon's chocolate Oreo cake (and boy, was it worth it!), but didn't overdo it -- and managed to keep my blood sugar stable. Even at the wedding, I mainly ate vegetable crudite and fruit. I gave myself permission to have a small piece of wedding cake, but after taking two bites, I didn't even want any.

It's been wonderful to feel so much better physically, but I'm also feeling good mentally these days, which I think is equally as important. I've been trying to figure out what's changed in my life; I think it's important to keep track of the things that are positive so that I can keep up with that behavior. I'm pleased that I seem to finally be moving away from using food as a means to fill an emotional hole and I want to continue with that. Anyway, here are some of the good changes I've made:

1. I'm seeing doctors more often. I still have a fear of them, but getting a proper diagnosis and the correct meds has made a HUGE difference in my life. To other overweight people out there -- don't be scared to see your doctor. I know that it can be trying, especially when a doctor is judgmental, but it's worth it to find a compassionate, capable doctor who understands what an obese patient has to deal with.

2. I see a therapist. Yes, taking care of your mental health is important. I was a little resistant to the idea at first, but it does help to have someone to talk to. She helps me put things in perspective and find a new way to view problems. I'm still a worrier, but not like I was a year ago.

3. I found something new to do that I enjoy. While I was out with my broken leg, I began making jewelry -- and fell in love with it. Most of us work really hard at our jobs, but having an outside interest is a way for me to escape from the stress of work.

4. That said, I'm enjoying my job again. I came very close to quitting last year, but am glad that I stuck it out. This was out of my control, but the change of office helped, I think. I've made some new, good friends and look forward to going to work each day. Even though the job can be stressful, I'm trying to concentrate on the things that I like about it.

5. I'm trying to foster closer relationships with my friends and family. I've been working harder than ever to keep in touch with the important people in my life. It's hard when we're all busy, but having good friends is what keeps me sane!

6. I'm exercising. Not nearly as much as I should be, but walking is great for my body and mind.

7. I cut out most junk food. I eat a lot of veggies, lean meats, yogurts, fruits -- but almost no processed foods or sweets. This is something I plan to do for the rest of my life.

As I've said before, food is only one part of my life. I'm glad that I'm learning to love the other parts again.

Something Very Personal

Today I feel like writing about something very personal and perhaps a little controversial: babies.

As of now, I don't really want children. I LIKE children. But I just don't feel my biological clock ticking or whatever other maternal urges most women have. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I have so many things going on with my body anyway. Right now, I can't have a baby, anyway, so maybe I'm unconsciously blocking out the idea. I do know that having kids is a HUGE responsibility. I have so much respect for my friends who are moms because they have to sacrifice so much. You have to be ready to do that and with my health issues, I don't think I can give all that a kid needs. That would be unfair to the hypothetical child.

I'm fortunate because everyone in my life has supported me. My husband is understanding and my parents and in-laws haven't bugged us about grandchildren, which I really appreciate.

Still, whenever I find out that a friend is pregnant -- as I did today -- I have mixed feelings. 99 percent of me is soooo happy for the parents-to-be! It's great news and so exciting, and I enjoy hanging out with my friends' kids. I want the best for my friends and if having kids is it for them, then I'm right there supporting them.

However, part of me also feels a little sad. There is the realization that I won't see my friend as much and that our relationship will change. I also start to question myself, wonder why I don't feel maternal and why I didn't so more to improve my weight and health earlier. I also worry about dying alone and not having any family later on in life. I worry about disappointing my husband.

I know a lot of couples who are childless and happy and most of the time, I am, too. When I think about whether I want kids *right now*, my honest, honest answer is no. If we decide to adopt or use a surrogate later on, there are other options, but at this point in time, I'm not ready for the responsibiity. I'm just trying to "own" it and not let my other friends' decisions dictate my on life. I've been guilty of this before; I have a bad habit of comparing myself to others and wondering if I'm "normal" just because I have a different opinion or way of doing things. But really what is normal? I need to remind myself that I have plenty going on in my life that is good. My friends won't think less of me if I choose to not do exactly what they're doing, and even if they do -- so what? I can't have a kid just to fit in. That would be so unfair to everyone involved!

I realize this post is kind of rambling and doesn't have much to do with weight loss, but I sometimes need to sort out my feelings. Again, I'm justifying myself to you readers, but this is *my* blog.

I'm looking forward to eventually meeting my friend's little one when he or she is born. Meantime, I'm going to continue doing things that make me happy and keep me healthy.

Green-Eyed Monster

Now that I'm in my late 30s, I feel as if I'm going through a bit of a transition in regards to my friendships. I know that I've changed a lot over the past few years, maybe even more so than the time between high school and college, and when I was in my 20s. That said, I've made some wonderful new friends and have lost others. I'm told that this is normal, that everyone goes through this type of change, but it seems to be happening all at once. I tend to be loyal to a fault when it comes to maintaining friendships, so it always hurts when I lose touch with someone. Still, I'm trying to do more to appreciate the friends that have stayed with me.

One thing I've come to value in my friendships, besides stability, is positivity. I like being around positive, creative people who inspire me to be the same way. I'm not saying that they should never complain or be upset -- that would be ridiculous -- but the people I find myself gravitating toward lately are those who tend to stay upbeat, even when the odds are against them.

I think we've all known people who are "emotional vampires," who are constantly involved in drama and who tend to use their friends for whatever purpose. I admit, I used to be like this. When I was in high school and even college, I was depressed all the time. I used to whine about not having a boyfriend, not being pretty enough, not being popular enough, etc. Then I wondered why people didn't want to be around me! Worse, I always wanted what others had, especially when it came to romance. I felt as if I were useless because I didn't have a boyfriend and resented my friends who did. I remember that my now sister-in-law and her then boyfriend were up for the "cutest couple" reward on our floor and I purposefully didn't vote for them because I was angry that they were together and I was alone. What kind of friend was I? I was being jealous and petty, and wished she could be miserable like me.

I've felt this way when it comes to weight, too. Lani, my friend since childhood, has lost a lot of weight over the years, but when she first started dropping pounds, I - I'm ashamed to admit -- was jealous. When people complimented her, I'd be like, "Why can't that be me?" but she worked hard to get thin. And when I was training for the 20-mile walk a few years ago, I found myself becoming envious of my friend Scott because he rund marathons. I wished I could be as athletic as him. Again, he worked hard at being in shape and would constantly tell me, "Stop comparing yourself to other people."

Then there have been my reactions to others' life changes. When my sister-in-law became pregnant, I worried that she'd be favored by the family for giving them a grandchild and that I'd be left in the cold. But it hasn't been like that at all. Having a niece is fun and I've found other ways to bond with my in-laws. And again, I know that my SIL works hard to be a good mom. I've felt a pang when other friends have announced pregnancies, as well, but when you're a parent, you NEED adult friends. Yes, their lives may have changed, but I've learned to adjust and relish my "new" role in it. Kids are time-consuming, but almost all of my mommy friends also cherish the time they get to be with me or other girlfriends.

These days, I'm making an effort to not be jealous of others. It's such a negative emotion and it usually doesn't get you anything except resentment. Instead, I'm trying to focus on the things that are positive about myself and turn my envy into admiration and support of others. It's been great because, as cliche as this sounds, when you're happy for other people, you feel happier. I don't want to be angry with friends for having more money or a better job or whatever; I want to celebrate their accomplishments. In turn, I like being around people who have a similar outlook, who are happy for me when things turn out well.

I truly believe that the more positivity I include in my life, the easier it will be for me to focus on my weight loss. I've built up so much negativity over the years, it's literally crushing me in pounds of fat. I'm determined to fight it and improve my mental and physical health.

Happy Anniversary

It was exactly a year ago, April Fool's Day, 2010, that I broke my leg. I can't believe that so much time has passed already. I'm not 100 percent, but I can function and am getting stronger. I know that losing weight will help with my recovery.

I know it seems strange to call this a "happy" anniversary, but I'm grateful for many things. I'm glad that all I did was break my leg and not my neck; I'm glad that my job didn't give me a hard time about taking four months off; I'm glad that I had that time off to reflect on some things in my life, plus the time off gave me the opportunity to do a lot of writing and begin my jewelry venture.

The accident also made me change my perspective on some things. Some of the treatments I went through, like getting my bone popped in, hurt like hell, but I survived them. I survived the surgery. And for a brief time, I got to see what it's like being wheelchair bound. Obviously, I can't compare my situation to someone who is in a wheelchair for life, but I got a taste and it gave me a new respect for things many of us take advantage of. Since then, I've been happy just being able to do things like climb stairs or enter a restaurant or see a movie that's on the second floor. I still think about these things all the time.

I also find that I get less stressed about stuff, save for dealing with my parents. Before I broke my leg, I was thisclose to quitting my job and felt as if I weren't valued. Nowadays, I'm a lot more relaxed at work, even though I have more to do. This attitude has spread to other areas of my life, as well. When I'm with my friends, I like to laugh and celebrate the good things going on in my life rather than complain to them. Before I broke my leg, I was bitching to everyone about my job troubles and I'm sure that was tiresome. Now I'm making more of an effort to stay positive and to surround myself with positive people. In the past, I'd get jealous of friends -- because they were in better shape or had more money or had a new home -- but I'm taking more time to remind myself of what I DO have.

I'm definitely not perfect. There are days when I get very stressed our or angry, and when I complain about silly things. If you read through my entires when I was dealing with my broken leg, I complained often! But at least I've gained more self-awareness so that I can step back and deal with my problems. I hope I never break another bone, but if I had to do so, I'm glad that the incident had such a positive influence on my life.

Blasts From The Past

Karen and I decided to take tonight off. It's a good thing, too, because around 8:15 -- about the time we leave the gym -- a thunderstorm hit and it was pouring. I was grateful to be in my warm, dry apartment!

I did get in a little exercise since I carried home a heavy package full of craft fair supplies. I'm guessing it weighed about 10 pounds. Since I'm getting better at moving, I was able to carry it with few problems. I can now walk a lot more quickly and am having less back pain. Still, walking isn't easy. That's how far gone I was. When I started in the gym about a month ago, I could barely walk across the gym. Now I can do so, but walking for longer distances is an issue. Sometimes I want to slap myself for letting my fitness fall to the point where I'm a few steps above being bed ridden, but I have to celebrate the progress that I am making. That it'll probably take until May for me to walk normally is frustrating but well, I'll be in much better shape than I am now. And then I'll be able to surpass that and finally be in above-average shape.

As you know, I'm also trying to shape up my mental health. Forgiving myself and others in my life is a big thing. I think it'll take the longest to forgive my parents, but I'm trying to start with the people who don't mean so much to me. For years I've continued to be angry at people who are no longer even in my life -- past crushes who rejected me, friends who abandoned me, bullies who mocked me -- and well, what's the point? They don't care how I feel about them; chances are, they've forgotten me. Plus, it's silly to hold all of that in when it's in the past.

However, sometimes the past comes roaring back at you, especially when you use Facebook. It seems as if everyone from my life is on that site and throughout this week, I've come across pages for my ex-best friend and my ex-friend/almost boyfriend, who broke my heart.

It was very strange to see their names and profiles in front of me, but I went ahead and friended my ex-best friend ... and she hasn't friended me back. I'm not surprised, given that she was always ditching me to be with the cooler kids (in other words, she was hardly a "best" friend), but I'm kind of laughing because I've changed SO MUCH since high school. I don't think she has any idea that the shy, geeky, skinny girl of yore is now fat, outgoing and opinionated. As for the boy who broke my heart, I'm actually debating whether to friend him. Basically, I liked him as more than a friend, he was seeing someone and failed to tell me this ... and suddenly disappeared out of my life as if he'd died. I never got any closure on the situation and part of me has always wanted to have that conversation about why he lied to me. No, I wouldn't have that talk on FB, of all places, but I think I could get closure from him at least ackowledging my existence. That was the toughest part of losing him -- not that he was in love with someone else -- that he just cut me out without warning. I was young and naive. I'm not now. Maybe I'm just a masochist.

I'm confident enough, though, to know that I won't fall apart if I'm rejected by these people from my past. I've come so far, especially in the past year, and while it would be great to make amends, if they're not interested, well, they don't know what they're missing! Meanwhile, I have too much to look forward to to continue dwelling on the past. I still haven't quite let everything go, but I'm getting there, slowly but surely.

An Apple A Day...

After enduring a crazy week -- which included a freakin' TORNADO that touched down in my NYC neighborhood -- I'm having a really good weekend so far. I made a few more pieces of jewelry, saw some friends, and this morning, a bunch of us went apple picking upstate.

It's been rather rainy all week (even without the tornado), but today was perfect. The sun was shining, it was about 70 degrees and there was a light breeze. It felt really good to get out of the city and enjoy the fresh air.

We first stopped at a farmer's market and picked up some cheese and vegetables. They sold pies, donuts and fudge, but I abstained (though I did have a bite of my friend's donut and chocolate). After, we went to the nearby orchard to pick our apples. Though I'm moving pretty well these days, I brought the walker with me because the terrain was so uneven; even though it was difficult for me to walk through the trees and actually pick the apples, I still had a great time. I just enjoyed breathing in the scent of the fruit and people watching as happy families and kids went about plucking apples from the trees. Apples aren't my favorite fruit, but I sampled a couple and discovered that I like them much more than I remember! Maybe because I've developed more of a taste for fresh fruit and vegetables, I've become appreciative of the sweet, tart crunchiness of apples. But it just felt really good to have that nice, juicy fruit while relaxing in the sunshine.

After, we went into Goshen and had a late lunch/early dinner at a lovely Italian restaurant. Since the weather was so beautiful, we sat outside and continued to relish the clean air. I've been trying to eat less pasta, so I had chicken with vegetables and potatoes. The food was amazing and we all cleaned our plates. We then drove home, laughing and singing the whole time. All in all, it was a very nice day.

In other news, this upcoming week of physical therapy is going to be my last. I met with the doctor in charge of the place and he said that I'm doing well enough that I can start working out at home. But he added that in order to continue losing weight, I should really take things to the next level and do more than just walk, so I'm going to start using the BowFlex again. I was glad I got to walk some more hills today because I still need practice with that; I'd also like to look into getting a stationary bike or elliptical. I still think that you can get a great workout from walking, but I know that it's best to mix it up.

Right now, my biggest goal at the moment is to get in decent shape by February because my friends and I are talking about going to Greece! How awesome will that be? If that's not motivation, I don't know what is. Meantime, I'm looking forward to taking more day trips and small vacations. I still have a long way to go with my weight loss, but I'm loving the extra energy that I'm already getting!

It's All Greek To Me

For some reason this weekend, I was really hungry -- and not just emotionally hungry; my stomach was growling and I felt light headed. Fortunately, I didn't go too crazy. I had some chocolate cake, but I journaled every bite. And tonight I went out for Greek food with a friend.

Many nutritionists recommend the "Mediterranean diet" because the countries in that area tend to rely on simple, but fresh and tasty foods. Our meal tonight definitely illustrated this. I had a combo kebab with grilled chicken and lamb chunks, beans, roasted potatoes and lemon rice; a Greek salad with balsamic vinegar and two small cubes of feta cheese (some places go completely overboard with the feta; and some hummus. I ended up leaving over the side dishes -- the potatoes, rice and beans -- and had only about half the meat. My friend and I then shared baklava for dessert, but between the two of us, we didn't even eat half. We each took about two bites and that was enough; I then brought my leftovers home to Jon and he finished them.

I feel as if I'm getting much better at this whole "eat when I'm actually hungry" thing. I'm not feeling a need to wolf down my food simply because I ordered it or it's in front of me. I'm okay with taking a few bites to get the taste and then saving the rest for later.

My walking is continuing to improve, as well. It's still not great, but I can walk about two blocks without the walker before I need to stop for a rest. I know that soon enough it will be four blocks and then eventually a mile. I'm still trying to find that balance between working out and not overdoing it. If I do too much, my ankle swells up and yells at me to stop.

Meantime, my jewelry making supplies arrived! I'm very excited, though I still have to order some stuff before I can officially start making items. But I've been watching a whole bunch of instructional items online and am very anxious to get started. It'll be good to try a new hobby that's challenging and different from what I usually do for fun (writing and music). I like the idea of being able to express myself in another venue. Plus, I'll be able to make some cool gifts for the holidays.

It's amazing how good it can feel to have a project in the works and something to look forward to. For once, I don't even care if I'm any good at it -- I'm just happy to be learning something new. Maybe this is really a way that I can overcome my eating disorder; to fill my life up with things like hobbies, interests, friends and love. As cheesy as that sounds, no amount of food can make up for that.

The Things I Did For Food

Joined Karen for Tex-Mex tonight. I got my usual dish -- veggie fajitas with broccoli, cauliflower, squash and peppers, but what's interesting is that I was craving it all day. Me craving vegetables; did you ever imagine?

During dinner, I showed Karen some of my old student IDs and driver's licencses that I still keep in my wallet and she could hardly believe how skinny I used to be. In her opinion, I was too skinny, even in my college ID, where I weighed about 115 pounds. She said that she liked the one of me from my senior year of college the best -- when I weighed about 140.

It's pretty telling that I can recall my life by my various weights rather than by just my memories. I'd like to change that. I'd like to be able to look at old photos of myself and think, "That's from when I was 40, the year that Jon and I went to Thailand," rather than, "That's from when I was 38 and weighed 220." This reinforces how much prominence my weight and food have had in my life and I'd like well, my LIFE, to be the central focus.

That said, I confided in Karen about some of the inane things I did for food when I was a kid, like steal packages of cookies from the back of the pantry or raid my friends' kitchens. The thing I'm probably the most ashamed of, though, is lying to my grandmother.

My mother's mother was a tiny woman, about 4'5" and sweet as anything. She was so naive and protective and literally used to make me wear my gloves and hat in 70 degree weather. She never had an unking word to say about anyone except when she was watching her soap, GUIDING LIGHT. Then she'd call the show's villainess a "snot nose," which trust me, was pretty racy stuff for my grandmother!

Anyway, when I was in the fifth grade, I went through a dark period where Istole a lot. I swiped earrings from friends, money from my parents and even shoplifted a couple of things from the mall ... and I stole from my grandma.

Toward the end of the year, my friend Lani and another girl in our neighborhood invited me to take a walk with them to this nearby deli. It was only a mile away from my home, but it was on a main road and I knew that my parents wouldn't want me walking all the way there without an adult. Still, I was 11, my parents weren't yet home from work, and dammit, I wanted to go! Unfortunately, I knew that if I asked my grandmother, she'd freak out. I mean, she became nervous when I went on my swing set.

Therefore, Lani helped me come up with a lie and I told my grandma that I was going to the mall with Lani's mom for school supplies. This was ridiculous because school was almost over, but my grandmother bought the story and gave me the OK. She also gave me $10 to buy my things.

With our money in hand, the three of us then made the trek to the deli. There, we gorged on pizza, cake and all sorts of other crap that they sold there. We were practically high from ingesting so much salt and sugar. We knew that our parents wouldn't approve of us sneaking over there, so we made a pact that we'd never tell anyone about our journey. I actually kept my promise for a very long time.

My grandma died when I was 13 and by that time, I wasn't interested in stuffing my face with junk. A couple of years later, I went through my scary skinny period and well, you know most of the rest. But I've always felt badly about tricking such a wonderful, trusting woman ... and for what? Shitty pizza and packaged cookies. Yeah, I was only a kid, but even then, I put food before my family. I suppose I can argue that part of me wanting to get away had to do with me being a pre-teen and wanting to have an adventure, but no, I can assure you that I was just going for the food. I think that for the entire walk over there, I was babbling about everything that I was going to eat.

I eventually 'fessed up about the lie when I was about 15 (I wasn't kidding about keeping the secret for a long time) and Lani sort of laughed at me, saying that she had told her parents years before and they hadn't cared. It still haunts me, though. No, it wasn't THAT bad a thing to do -- I mean, you should hear some of my husband and father's stories about the things they did as kids -- but I still feel dirty. The way I acted was like I was on drugs or something; I lied to a loved one, took her money and then stuffed myself numb with treats. Nice.

I'm a mostly honest person these days, save for a white lie now and then, but I wish my grandmother were alive so I could tell her the truth -- and give her back her $10. Karen says that she's sure that my grandmother forgives me, wherever she is, and she's probably right. My grandma wasn't the type of person to hold a grudge.

I, too, forgive myself for being young and foolish, but I also don't want to forget about it because it's important that I remind myself how destructive binge eating can be. I haven't taken money from anyone else for food, but I have done other shameful things like eat in secret or even take uneaten food out of the trash when no one was looking.

Food isn't something to be ashamed of, though. It's not something to hide or hide from. It's just well, food. But the memories you create from spending time with friends or family are a lot more fleeting. I don't ever want to put food before them again.

Fat Days

Most women I know -- and some men, too -- have "fat days," i.e. those days where no matter what you weigh, you feel bloated and heavy and well, fat. I'm having one of those days today. I didn't eat too much this weekend or have a lot of salt or anything like that, but I feel like I weigh 1000 pounds. It sucks.

It's frustrating, but I know that it'll pass and soon enough I'll be having a "thin day"; hopefully, more of these will come as I lose more weight.

Tonight I had an interesting conversation with a girlfriend about the effect our upbringing can have on our weight. I mentioned the battles I had with my parents over my size while I was in college and beyond and she wondered if my initial weight gain was partially done out of spite. She never gained as much weight as I have, but she's had her ups and downs on the scale, and her ups and downs with her parents, as well. I don't know for sure if I did gain weight as a form of rebellion, but I suppose it could've been the case. I just don't like to blame other people for what I did to my own body. As I've said before, I don't entirely agree with the way my parents handled things, but I'd rather forgive and move on. I definitely feel that us getting close during these past few months has allowed me to let go of some of these issues and finally start losing the weight for myself and not just to please them -- or gain weight to spite them, for that matter.

Still, it's nice having a friend who I can talk to about these things and who understands. Most of my friends have been very supportive of me --through my fat and thin periods -- but most have not had to lose massive amounts of weight so it's difficult for them to truly emphasize with what I'm going through. I like having someone who I can reach out to.

On a totally unrelated topic, is it possible for a cat to have a food addiction? Our cat, Maya, meows and meows at us for food, no matter how much we give her. She even managed to trick us each into giving her a meal, so she got two breakfasts! And she STILL meowed at us for treats. I don't know what her deal is, but perhaps she needs Weight Watchers for cats...

Feeling Better....

I think my questions about why I was in such a bad mood yesterday were answered by the fact that I slept for 12 hours last night! Obviously, I was just exhausted and needed the rest. My ankle is extemely swollen, too, so I my body was starting to rebel against me for pushing it so hard.

Now that I've had a good night's sleep, I can appreciate my week and yesterday's party a lot better. I wish I could've been more "in the moment" with everything, but I realize that it'll take some more time until my leg is 100 percent and I'm able to do everything I want.

That said, I'm just going to relax today and watch some sitcoms on TV. Doing something fun and mindless is exactly what my body and soul needs. Then it's back to the grind tomorrow, with me hopefully being even stronger than before...

Mad At The World

Ever have one of those days where you just WANT to be angry with something? This is how I'm feeling today. I'm just angry -- and I don't have PMS so I'm not sure exactly WHY I'm angry, which is freaking me out a little.

For the most part, I had a nice day. PT went really well this morning and I spent the rest of the day at my friend Scott's house, where he hosted a wonderful party. The weather was gorgeous, the food was great and the company was friendly ... but little things kept nagging at me all day and the more I tried to not think about them, the more they bugged.

For starters, the elevator at the train station wasn't working, so I had to lug my walker down about 30 steps. No one offered to help and when I called Scott to pick me up at the station, he didn't answer (turns out he was in the shower). So now I was angry with him, with the elevator and with the passersby for not helping someone who was obviously struggling.

A few minutes later, Scot sent a friend to pick me up, so no big deal, and I know that the elevator breaking was just something that happens. I should've been grateful to Scott for getting me a ride when he could've just said, "Take a cab," and I should've applauded myself for getting down those stairs by myself ... but all of these feelings started to bubble up.

Once at the house, I needed to use the restroom, but the upstairs one was occupied and the grout was drying in the downstairs one. Again, I found myself getting angry over something that wasn't the end of the world. In fact, I wanted to throw a tantrum like a toddler (I didn't!).

Finally, I sat down outside and enjoyed a nice grilled veggie sandwich, somke veggie chips and salads. I had a few cookies, but stopped myself before I went into a full-on binge (remember, cookies are my weakness). It was peaceful and I started to relax a bit. Still, I was plagued with doubts about things all day. I was disappointed that no one, including my parents, commented on my weight loss. I found myself wondering if I was being social enough, since it was difficult for me to stand around and mingle with my leg still weakened. I was happy to see my oldest friend, Lani, there ... but she spent much of the time talking to other guests and I became angry with her for "abandoning" me because again, I couldn't really get up and follow her as she stood with people and chatted. I was angry with my husband for arriving later than he'd planned, and then giving my parents a curt hello rather than enthusiastically greeting them with a hug and a kiss.

Again, I'm not sure why I have so many negative feelings today. If I sit back and really think about things, nothing really bad happened. Lani and my friend Suzanne both made sure that I had food all day and the Lani gave us a lift to the station at night, so it's not as if she really abandoned me. It was a party and not her fault that I can't move well; it wasn't up to her to babysit me all night. Meanwhile, my dad told me that he wants to take my husband out to thank him for taking care of me after my injury. Yes, Jon's "greeting" to my parents sucked and was kind of rude, but he's a good man who's done a lot for me. As for me being social, I think a lot of other people were being quiet, too -- and many of Scott's friends came over to say hello. I mean, I was there for nine hours; it wasn't like it was going to be a crazy party the entire time.

I think that perhaps part of the reason why I'm feeling so low is because I pushed myself so much this week. Going out every night probably wasn't such a smart thing to do during my first week back at work. Also, I think that just losing the weight is affecting my moods. My body is in total shock right now with everything that is happening to it and I'm sure that my hormones are in overdrive. Plus, I'm now being forced to feel things rather than numb myself with binges. I recently read a great weight loss memoir called Hungry by Allen Zadoff where he shared that as his pounds came off, all of his pent-up feelings which he'd been "eating" away started to come out -- and though he was a grown man, he'd act like a teenager. I suppose this is what's happening to me; I'm experiencing every hurt and regret all over again ... so that a small thing like a friend talking to someone else at a party turns into a replay of me being abanonded my a friend for the cool kids back in high school. Or people not noticing my weight loss reminds me of how I always felt unattractive. Since I started gaining weight when I was about 18, I guess I'm emotionally stuck in high school, and I need time to catch up to being 36.

I know it's better to actually feel angry than to quell the sensation with food, but it still sucks. Losing weight is meant to be a healthy thing and this emotional roller coaster I'm riding is an awful side effect. I hope that I can get it together before my emotions completely spiral out of control ... because watching a 36-year-old fat chick kick and scream like a two-year-old would be a very scary sight to behold.

One Meal At A Time

I'm really proud of myself for having a productive and healthy day. I just got back from dinner with a friend and was pleased with all of the choices that I made. We went to one of my favorite restaurants, a Tex-Mex place called Santa Fe, but instead of getting a burrito or enchilada drenched in cheese (and trust me, they are soooo good!), I ordered the veggie fajitas, which came with nice chunky pieces of cauliflower, broccoli, zucchini and onion. I put together two fajitas, spreading on a salsa and just a bit of guacamole. There were chips on the table, too, but I only had a few. And though this place has AWESOME desserts, all I had after the meal was a cup of coffee -- and then when I came home, I had one fruit pop. I was craving chocolate, but didn't give in to it.

It felt really good to have a very satisfying and filling meal that was actually good for me. When I finished, I was full, but I didn't have that sick, bloated feeling that I often get when I've scarfed down too much salt or too many carbs. Plus, it was nice to be out with my friend and enjoy some girl talk. Of course, I relished my food, but I was mainly paying attention to what she was saying; I wasn't obsessing over my meal like I tend to do sometime.

My friend noticed that I've lost weight, too. She'd mentioned this to me when we met up last week, but said that she could see even more of a difference even over the past few days. The difference isn't that big yet, but it's encouraging that people are starting to notice -- and her compliment made me want to keep the momentum going by having a healthy dinner.

Between my tough PT session and successful night out, I'm more positive about the future. This weekend, my goal is to take a long "journey" and circle our block. Right now, that seems as if it's 10 miles long, but I'd love to be active again. If I can move any way I want and do whatever I want, my world will continue to become a much larger place.

Family Circus

Much as I'm glad to be somewhat up and about, I have to admit that our Fourth Of July celebration was disappointing. We went to see the movie Letters From Juliet, which was so-so and then we had dinner at a nearby Argentine restaurant, which was very nice. I enjoyed Jon's company, of course, and am grateful that I had someone to celebrate with, but well, the holiday still felt empty to me.

What did I miss specifically? Barbecue. Not the actual food so much -- I mean, we had grilled meats at the restaurant so that counts as barbecue, I guess, but I missed the idea of being at a barbecue or Fourth of July party with friends and family. I missed sitting around with a large group of people, laughing and having fun as we waited for the fireworks display to take off. I missed jumping in the pool on a very hot day or being at the lake or hiking or doing some kind of fun summer-type activity. I'm glad that we did go out and do something, but we see movies and have dinner almost every weekend. I missed that feeling of being part of a group, of being part of a family. Seeing everyone's posts on Facebook about their pool parties and barbecues and hikes and camping and whatnot got me depressed to the point where I burst into tears this morning and couldn't stop. I felt better when a couple of friends complained that they had to work last night and didn't get out at all, but I've still been feeling depressed about it all day and just left out of the loop. I went so far as to send out an invite to my family members for July 4, 2011 so that we could host a party and they could clear their calendars NOW.

Much as I've been down all day, I think it's a positive thing that I'm facing my feelings and writing about them rather than bingeing. That said, I've been trying to imagine what my shrink would say; she'd probably suggest that I try to figure out what it is specifically about the holiday that's made me feel so down.

I think what it comes down to is family, or a lack thereof in my case. These days, I have a decent relationship with my parents, but we've had a lot of shaky times over the past few years. They travel often, so they're out of the country for several months a year. Plus, our family is very small; it's just me and them. I don't even have any cousins or aunts and the one uncle I do have is in a home. Meanwhile, I love my in-laws, but my siblings-in-law haven't turned out to be what I'd hoped for. Neither they nor their spouses is great at keeping in touch and I've given up doing all the work. One used to be a close friend (that's how I met my husband) and it hurts that we're not so close anymore. It's not because she's a bad person; it's just that our lives have taken us in different directions. I'm fortunate in that I'm still good friends with my one-time neighbor whom I've known since we were babies, but much as she's like family, she has her own husband and blood relatives. For most holidays, she understandably spends time with them.

Because of this, I didn't end up with the large, close family I'd anticipated when I got married. The family gathers maybe twice a year -- for Passover and Thanksgiving -- and I always really have a great time because I like having so many people around. It gives me a sense of belonging and identity. Even with Christmas, which we don't celebrate and which I sometimes feel left out of, as well, it's not so bad, because I always meet up with Jewish friends for a movie and Chinese. It's not a family holiday for us, but we spend the time with a different type of family.

I think that's what I felt was missing this Fourth, especially since my mobility is compromised on top of everything. In the past, we've "borrowed" families for the holiday. A couple of years ago, we visited a friend upstate and crashed her family's barbecue. It was so much fun, especially when we all walked over to the nearby fireworks show after dinner. A couple of times, we've also spent the fourth overseas.

I'm lucky because I have a lot of good friends and they've basically become my family. But most of them have DNA families who they spend time with and I realize that I probably put more weight on our relationships than they do. I don't doubt that my friends love me, but I don't know if they feel the need for that surrogate family like I do, if they need me in that same way. It's not fair of me to put such high expectations of them when they have other people and responsibilities in their lives.

What's really ironic in all of this is that I'm not sure I want kids -- which would be the easiest way to get myself a large family. But I'm not sure I have what it takes to be a mother. Having kids is a huge responsibility, which I don't know that I'm prepared to take on.

Right now, my goal is to fill my soul rather than stuff myself with food and I definitely do think this familial identity crisis comes into play for me. Not sure what I can do about it, but I think for starters, I'm going to plan more family outings and encourage us to see each other more. I'm certain that my sisters-in-law won't bite as they don't care much for social get-togethers, but if I nag enough (that's what siblings do, right?), maybe they'll understand and indulge me. And maybe I won't have to be so needy with my friends and will stop feeling like I'm drifting in the wind.

Big Improvements

Okay, first the bad news: I didn't go crazy yesterday, but I did have a mini-binge last night. It's my time of the month (sorry any guys who are reading this) and I was craving salt and so I asked my husband to bring me some mozzarella sticks and fries. I ate the mozz sticks and a couple of fries ... but then I was like, "What are you doing?" and tossed the rest. I guess it's good that I stopped myself.

I'm not sure what triggered this exactly, though I have been a little depressed. I think that summer is getting to me. It always seems to be too hot, too long and rather endless and well, kind of empty. The city quiets down. Most of my friends are teachers so they have the time off and many go away. I'm happy for them because they've worked hard, but this year in particular, it's getting to me because we were supposed to go to Argentina and now we can't. I also feel as if my support system isn't around as much as it was thia spring. It's a bit ironic that just at the point that I'm getting more able to do things, the people in my life are disappearing. I realize that it's selfish for me to think this; I mean, I realize that the world doesn't revolve around me, but the situation has made me restless. i'm going to sound like a big baby for what I'm about to say, but, well, here goes: I'm jealous that everyone else is going to have fun and I feel as if I'm being left behind. I mean, what do I have to look forward to -- going back to work, really. I wish I could go on a REAL vacation, as opposed to just having time off for an injury.

But there is good news. Each day, it's getting just a little easier for me to get around on my own. I switched from the Air Cast to a regular sneaker yesterday, so I'm finally back to wearing normal shoes (even though the sneaker had to be unlaced halfway because my foot is still swollen). PT went well and when my dad brought me back upstairs, I successfully managed to walk from the front door to our bed. Then yesterday evening, I walked to the bathroom and Jon helped me into the shower -- my first REAL shower in three months! Yes, I HAVE been washing frequently, but I've been doing it by sitting at the sink and cleaning myself that way. Since our shower has a step into it and I wasn't supposed to get the cast wet, it was tough for me to climb in all of this time. But I finally got to do it last night!

This morning, though, was my biggest challenge. Jon always leaves me breakfast, but instead of giving me a roll, gave me two packs of low-fat cream cheese. I didn't want to live on grapes and bananas all day, so I took the walker and made my way to the kitchen and back -- by MYSELF -- to get my roll. I was a bit nervous about traveling while I'm home alone, but it was fine. I feel as if I'm getting the hang of this whole walking thing. I know I'd mentioned that my goal was to walk from the front door to our living room, but this was actually a longer distance. I had to stop halfway to sit for a few seconds, but the mission was completed.

Don't get me wrong, walking is still very difficult for me. My foot is very sore whenever I place weight on it and I'm limping really hard. I kind of look like the Frankenstein monster as I go, step, CLOMP, step, CLOMP, but I'm moving and putting weight on it, which is important.

What's a little frustrating is that my back is bothering me when I walk for a long time or do my PT exercises. My therapist assures me that it'll ease up as my leg and back get stronger, but it concerns me given my past back issues. I just hate having the return of that familiar aching sensation. Much as I hated being off of my feet for the past few months, it was nice not having to deal with back pain when I walked.

Of course, I know that things will continue to get easier for me. But being able to get around our apartment is a great start and very appropriate for Independence Day weekend!

Small Changes

At this point, I'm still in a wheelchair and am still not sure if I'll be able to put weight on my leg on Thursday at my doctor's appointment. However, I've been doing my physical therapy and have noticed some small changes in regards to my weight.

For one thing, my husband says that I now appear to be more narrow from the back. He also says that I don't feel as heavy when he pushes me up the ramp from our building. Of course, it could just be that he's gotten stronger after pushing my wheelchair around for almost three months, but I'll take his word for it.

I am definitely not snoring as much, though. Before I would snore loudly enough that I would wake myself up, but Jon says that he hasn't really heard me snoring lately. I also haven't had a sleep apnea episode in a while. This weekend, we had a party and a friend slept over. I was so exhausted that while she was talking to me, I fell asleep in the bed, on my back, with my head rolled back. I usually wouldn't sleep this way because it's when I'm on my back that I have breathing episodes. But I didn't have one during my two-hour nap and my friend also reported that I wasn't snoring -- even in that awkward position.

Of course, with the party, I didn't eat as well as I should've. I had three drinks (for a light drinker like me, this is practically a binge) and had some leftover ziti and cake today. But I didn't go crazy, either. Our guests were like vultures so the food disappeared quickly -- and I was glad that we didn't have tons of stuff to get rid of (and for me to snack on). Tomorrow is another day and I will get back to my usual meals.

At the party, though, I really wasn't thinking of food at all. It was about being with my friends and laughing, and being grateful that I know such awesome people. I guess this is what life is about. Food is just one part of it.

That Loving Feelin'

A friend recently pointed out to me that I'm much more open in this blog than I am in real life. I suppose that's true. I do have a difficult time opening myself up to people, though I'm getting better at that.

Back in high school, I was so shy around guys I liked that I wouldn't speak to them unless they said something to me first. Great strategy, huh? I guess they could sense how uncomfortable I was in my own skin because I wasn't very good at flirting at none of the boys I liked ever liked me back. This definitely took a toll on me emotionally. What initially kicked off my starvation dietback then was that I was hoping to impress a boy whom I'd had a crush on for a long time. He was a total jerk and we had nothing in common, but well, I was 16 and clueless. When we were at a mutual friend's party, we were playing truth or dare and he had to name which girl in the room he thought was the most attractive. He picked this cute, pixie-ish girl who was extremely slender. I was so desperate to get him to like me that I figured that I just had to lose some weight.

The thing is, when I began this diet I wasn't even close to being chubby, let alone fat. I was 5'2" and weighed 115 pounds, which is right in my ideal weight range. My goal at the time was to lose five pounds, but I ended up losing almost 25. Thankfully, I managed to reel myself in before I became completely skeletal.

Looking back, there were other factors that contributed to me crossing into anorexia: I was in an extremely competitive academic program at school, so I was stressed out with work and exams. My music class had also become incredibly stressful because our conductor insisted on pitting all of the flute players against each other. What should've been a fun class was instead agonizing. Meanwhile, family was dealing with several crises at once, including my grandmother getting injured an uncle dying, so there was also a lot of stress at home. And then I had to deal with the typical teen stuff like friends and dating and hormones.

No wonder why I began starving myself -- this was totally about gaining control when everything else in my life seemed to be spiraling. Even though I managed to overcome that, however, I still didn't feel comfortable in my body and started bingeing and purging instead.

But my issues didn't disappear simply because I was able to wear the "perfect" size. I still didn't know what the hell I was doing when it came to guys and continued to be clueless when I got to college. There, I fell for two men, neither who reciprocated my feelings. Meanwhile, it seemed as it my roommates, especially my now sister-in-law, could get any man they wanted. I was heartbroken and felt so disgusting. As I listened to my housemates giggle with their boyfriends in their bedrooms, I comforted myself by dishing out huge portions of lasagna.

As I continue my weight loss journey and try to figure out WHY I'm morbidly obese, more and more of these memories are jumping out at me. I suppose that there are a million things that triggered my eating disorder in its various forms, but I definitely think that my ability (or lack thereof) to relate to people is a huge factor. Happily, I met my husband and we have a really good relationship, but I still have a lot of work to do. Like I said, I've gotten better at relating to people and am lucky to have the close friends that I do, but in general, I'm not very demonstrative. I'll hug my friends and family members, but it's usually kind of perfunctory and done as a greeting because it's expected. I rarely hug people (other than my husband) spontaneously.

I'm also not that comfortable saying, "I love you" to friends. I think it's because I take those words so seriously. I've actually only had three men (other than my dad or family members) tell me that they love me ... and two of them were gay. Since my only serious romantic relationship has been with my husband, I've come to truly value love and see it as something sacred. Some people can walk around easily saying that they love everyone -- and there's nothing wrong with that -- but I've always been very reserved about that sort of thing.

I'm beginning to wonder, though, if I need to relax about love and let more people in. Is that what my fat is -- a layer between myself and others? I've been hurt A LOT by people in the past, friends and family and unrequited romantic interests alike, but I now have a core group of people in my life who've proven to me that they can be trusted. Maybe it's about time I let down my guard and be the loving person I know I can be.

Seeing A Difference?

This weekend, I went out to dinner with a bunch of people and my best guy friend noted that he could see that I've lost weight. He's absolutely not the type to coddle me and give me a compliment simply as a means of making me feel good, so I know that he was sincere when he said this.

I'm not sure that I can see a difference myself, especially since these days I'm unable to stand in front of a full-length mirror. But I have to say that I do feel pretty good, broken leg aside. I don't know if it's because I've been away from my job, but I feel less stressed out and more energized. I also haven't had a sleep apnea episode in a long time. I even fell asleep on my back a couple of days ago and was okay, whereas a few months ago, I would've had breathing problems.

Of course, I'm still obese and have a long way to go before I'm remotely in the range of "normal." It's frustrating to not be able to do things, though I begin physical therapy this week, so that will be a start. Still, getting told that my weight loss is noticeable is very encouraging and means that I'm at least doing something right. So for now, I guess, I will continue following my "broken leg plan" of lifting weights, eating well and eating in moderation. Meantime, I now have an extra three weeks to lose some more pounds before I start walking, so maybe having to be off of my feet still is, in a way, a blessing in disguise.

Light At The End Of The Tunnel

This morning, I'm getting fitted for my Cam walker, which has been described to me as a "moon boot." Once I begin wearing it in June, I should presumably be able to walk again. Honestly, though, I'm a bit nervous about taking this next step; I'm a little afraid that at my weight, my bad leg will just snap and re-break as soon as I set weight on it. But then again, I've been putting all of my weight on just ONE leg for the past two months and it's held up. Anyway, the Cam walker is supposed to support it as it fully heals and I get used to walking again.

At this point, I have a lot more mobility in my bad leg. I can point and flex my foot and move it at the ankle. I've been told that when I begin physical therapy, one of the exercises they'll probably have me do will involve calf raises, so I've been trying to flex my foot as far as it will go in either direction so that I can stretch out my calf. Though I'm not getting the full impact as I would if I were to put weight on it, I'm hoping that these movements will strengthen my leg so that when the time comes, I will be in okay shape for therapy.

Meanwhile, I'm experiencing more and more benefits from my upper body training. The other day, my friend came over and took me downstairs to a nearby restaurant for dinner. I was a little apprehensive about having someone other than Jon take me out in my wheelchair because he's strong enough to push me and we have a whole system. Basically, I get into an office chair near my bed; he then wheels the chair into the hallway, where I switch into the wheelchair. We then exit through our building's basement and head up to the street via a very narrow and steep ramp. Along the way, however, are several obstacles: first, the office chair has to be pulled over two door moldings within our apartment -- through our bedroom entrance and then through the front door. We then have to contend with the elevator, which doesn't always line up. In fact, sometimes it's about six inches off the floor. And then we have to deal with the basement, which has bumpy, hilly and uneven floors. Finally, there's that ramp, which leaves Jon huffing and puffing by the time we reach the top.

Needless to say, I wasn't sure if my friend and I would be able to pull this off without Jon's help. She assured me that she's strong, though, and I do know our system inside and out. So we decided to make a go of it. To my surprise, I managed to get into the office chair and wheel myself over to the entrance of our bedroom without any help or support whatsoever. We then made a team effort in getting the chair over the door moldings, with her lifting the chair and me pushing it over with my good leg. Once in the hallway, I transfered to the wheelchair, again without assistance, and instructed her how to get me into the elevator and through the basement. And then it was time for the ramp.

My friend began pushing me and I could tell that this was going to be really tough for her. I then had an idea and grabbed the railings which are on either side of the ramp. Usually, Jon just pushes me up, but this time, I pulled myself along as my friend pushed from behind. Again, we worked really well as a team and we made it to the top. Needless to say, having the upper body strength really came in handy! My friend has some pretty incredible strength, too -- here's to girl power!

Last night, Jon and I went out and I showed him how I can now get into the office chair and wheelchair without his help. I'm getting better at negotiating cars, too. In the beginning, getting in and out of cars was a big procedure and I needed help doing it. But now, I can hop in and out of cars with the cast, no problem; I can even deal with curbs. The only time I felt a little shaky last night was when the cabby who was taking us home wanted to drop me off at the pot-holed corner where I initially fell. I refused to get out by what I call the "scene of the crime" and he understandingly took us across the street instead.

I'm glad that I'm feeling a lot more confident in moving my body and getting around, even if my mobility is still limited. It gives me some more hope that things will go well when I'm able to begin walking again three weeks from now.

Good Friends Vs. Great Friends

I realize that writing an entry about my friendships doesn't at first seem like it has anything to do with my weight loss journey. However, since I'm attempting to improve my WHOLE self -- body, mind and soul -- I feel like it's important to evaluate my relationships and how they effect me.

In short, I've hit the jackpot when it comes to friends. Some studies were done recently where researchers concluded that on average, people have only two very close friends whom they feel that they can confide in. I'd say I have about 50 people whom I consider good friends and out of those, about 10 are extremely close friends -- the type of people whom I can tell anything to and who I think of as family. I even have one close friend whom I've literally known since birth. How many people can say that?

My luck with friendships has been reinforced for me even more as I've dealt with my broken leg. Several of my friends have gone above and beyond when it comes to doing favors for me. My best guy friend drove me to the doctor's and was with Jon and me in the examination room as I got my bone popped into place. Another good friend picked up my wheelchair for me. Another, who is a doctor, patiently took harried calls from me as I questioned her about some medical issues I was dealing with. And still another actually schlepped over an hour to the hospital so that she could comfort me as I awaited my leg surgery. Meanwhile, I'm getting to know a newish friend/neighbor, who's already offered to help me out in several ways; I forsee us becoming close, as well.

On the other hand, there have been some people who've disappointed me. I recently asked a small favor of a friend (whom I've done some big favors for) and was given the brush-off. I don't expect people to owe me for the things I've done for them -- that isn't what being a good friend is about -- but I was disappointed that this person wasn't willing to accomodate me while I'm in a wheelchair.

Still, I should make it clear that I don't think that this friend is a bad person -- it's just that some people are willing to go the extra mile and some aren't. I really hope that I'm the former. I'm sure that there's more than I can do when it comes to that department and I want to work on it.

Last night, I went to dinner with a friend and we had a long discussion about weight loss and my injury. She suggested that there's a larger purpose behind me breaking my leg and that in the end, this setback will lead to something better. She then noted that this could be a time for me to deal with my bingeing problems and get my entire body into better shape as my leg heals.

I think she's right about that, but I also think that part of that "greater purpose" also involves my friendships. Over the past few weeks I've truly been able to see what it takes to be a GREAT friend versus a good friend. A good friend is someone who you think is nice and who you enjoy spending time with. However, a GREAT friend is more than just that -- they're someone who you can count on for that extra something. Good friends are the people you invite to a party because they're fun to be around. Great friends are the people you call at 2 a.m. when you're dealing with a family crisis.

I really want to be a GREAT friend to those people I love -- the type of person who can be counted on and who makes the extra effort. I hope that no one close to me ever experiences a crisis, but I'd like to think that they can depend on me as much as I've been able to depend on them.