To continue on my saga with the scale, I want to first point out that I had my first victory yesterday in my quest of letting it go. I went to the doctors office to have my foot looked at since we are planning on going to Las Vegas followed by Disneyland and I kind of rely on my feet to keep me going. I told the nurse I wanted to do a blind weight check and I had no desire of knowing the number. It was a little scary as I had to breath and focus on the wall hanging to keep myself from trying to steal a glance. Just as quickly as I stepped on I was off and sitting in the chair getting my blood pressure taken. My heart was still pounding and I honestly was feeling as if I had just run a marathon. My stomach was churning and my mind was flashing through all of the numbers that I have ever seen on a scale and it was like an intense mystery novel that leaves you hanging without any answers in the end. I was imaging the worst but I still didn't want to know. Then came the realization that I had been victorious in my self control. When I walked out of the office I was feeling great. I had beaten the scale addiction for the first time in a long time. I had shown restraint and it felt good.
Now we fast forward to the next day where I sabotage myself. I was having an off day and was feeling deeply depressed. Now why I chose to try and seek comfort in the little battery operated box that has been my evil addiction I still do not understand. My husband probably thought that he had it hidden in a brilliant spot, but he is learning that if I have enough will power to go out and try to find it I will. So out comes the scale and I step on it sure it was going to be a number that would comfort my blues. Funny right? I take a deep breath, do a quick check to make sure the kids are distracted, shoo the cats away so they don't see what I am about to do, push the button, and step on. My heart skipped a beat as I read the numbers that had gone up since my last encounter with this evil electronic beast. I went from 132 to 136. I was FREAKING out! I put it back, careful to pay attention to small detail, in the exact manner I had found it. Although it was now laughing at me because it had prevailed. My battle was lost. My blues were turning black and I wanted nothing more than to purge more and more to get the numbers down.
Then came the voice inside my head. It was the voice of reason quoting Kiele. It was telling me that I had to think about what five pounds of fat looked like compared to five pounds of muscle, which I kid you not is freakishly amazing! Then the voice went on to tell me that the scale is just a number. That number does not tell me anything worthwhile. It can't tell me my body fat percentage which is pretty low. It can't tell me that the jeans I am wearing are not tight on my body, unless it is the size 3 I have purposely outgrown. IT can't tell me with accuracy anything about how strong I have become. And then the voice is taunting me that I would be in trouble with my friend since one of the biggest rules that have been put in place for this challenge is to stay off the scale. I broke the rules and I got the exact result I knew I would get. Disappointment, heartbreak, guilt, anger, resentment and sadness. Now I spend more time and energy trying to move on and let go. It really wasn't worth it giving into that temptation which I think makes me more angry than the numbers.
My scale and I have this relationship that has been more detrimental to my confidence than any other relationship in my life. Yet I cannot find a permanent way to break up with my scale. So it sits tucked away in the garage where it patiently waits for our next encounter. I think maybe it was lying to me when it gave me the reading that made my stomach churn, trying to get back at me for leaving it out in the dark, dirty, and hot garage, alone with the spiders and crickets, when it used to sit polished in my bathroom where we would have multiple dates daily. Most of them in secret which gave me this feeling of adventure almost like I was having a secretive affair, only my affair was with a mindless machine. Maybe that is why I have not quite been able to rid my world completely of my scale but I am able to show restraint for something other than my purging. It sits out there as a constant reminder of a dark place I don't want to go back to. I do look forward to that one day I can get onto a scale and see the numbers as just numbers and realize those numbers are not a reflection of who I am now and who I can be. I can be strong and healthy and I don't need a scale to tell me otherwise. But for now my little evil friend will sit in darkness, alone, awaiting our next secret encounter which may never come which honestly it slightly depends on how good it my husband hides it this time...
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