Reality Check

"What screws us up most in life is the picture in our head of how it's supposed to be."

That statement, pretty much, more than anything else I can think of, explains why I am overweight. I have Fairy Tale Syndrome. I'm not sure if that's an official condition recognized by psychiatrists, but it should be because I have it and I have it bad.

I was born five miles south of Disneyland and from the beginning, I have believed that Mickey and his princesses had it right - that if we believed in the magic and did what was right, we would live happily ever after. It's true, there are moments and glimpses of my life when it seemed I was in the Happiest Place on Earth, but there are an inordinate amount of other times when what I had pictured in my head of the way it was "supposed to be" was nothing like the reality.

I don't think I'm very unique in that respect. I think it's part of the growing and maturing process. It's just that some do it better than others and everybody uses a different coping mechanism when the reality is completely different than the vision. For me, I think it's safe to say that my coping mechanism is, and always has been, food.

We did not have a lot of money growing up. We always had a home, we always had enough clothes to keep us covered, and no matter how tight money got, we always had plenty of food. Good food. My mother was an outstanding cook and just writing this makes me wish she would make me some glace or soupy potatoes right now. She could make a feast out of nothing, a gift she did not pass on, much to my husband's disappointment. Food is good, food is safe, and food is comforting. Food can solve anything and everything.

So food is my addiction. Being overweight is not socially acceptable, but food and eating is. It also is a basic need for survival. Try as I might to empathize with drug or alcohol addicts, I really can't because you don't need those to survive. When you get together with family, you eat. When you get together with friends, you eat. When you have social events at church or at work, you eat. I think you get the idea - I eat.

And that's why I'm where I'm at. I've had lots of experiences in life that have not matched the picture in my head and my response to make me feel better has always been to go to the one thing that makes me feel better every time (at least temporarily) - food. Unfortunately, I've never been comforted by celery or broccoli so when the recognition comes that change is necessary, the fix is only temporary. The challenge for me, and I'm confident it is the same challenge for many others, is to find other coping mechanisms and the mature part of me feels like I can make that happen.

But just like everything else, the picture in my head of the way that is going to happen is already turning out to be a lot different than the reality. My attempts at becoming a world-class biker or race walker have already been met with disappointment. I was pretty snarky about my walking to church being more than just a resolution for the new year and I was going to show all of those drivers I was better than that. Thanks to the knee, that won't be happening.

It's usually at about this point that I decide that my efforts are being met with too much opposition and that I'm just meant to be the size I am and that I just need to deal with my health issues in a different, more medicated, way. The challenge for me is to change the approach, make the adjustments, and never, ever, stop moving in the right direction.

One definition of frustration is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results. It's also the definition of insanity and that explains the Cymbalta. And my current state of being. I'm an old dog looking for some new tricks and I'm hoping that it's never too late to learn them.

My name is Princess of Whales, and I am a foodaholic.