Monday, January 2, 2012

Face the fear and do it anyway.

I need a few more exclamation points (and maybe a few more o's) to appropriately convey just how much I hate having my picture taken.  The advent of Facebook has made it worse: as someone who has always struggled with her skin and her weight, any photos, candid or posed, are a source of unending horror. Renegade zits and bulges are tough to hide.

I've dieted my whole life, pretty much, and never taken an official "before" photo. You know, the one where you're standing there in clothing more revealing and less flattering than anything else you own, usually complete with Death Stare or sheepish grin. 

I took those photos last night. My husband took them for me. Being a seasoned photographer, he checked each one and winced after peering briefly into the window.  I suspect they are gruesome, and the idea of seeing them larger than life and in horrifying detail (thanks fancy camera) is more than I can bear right now.  So they are waiting in all their *cough* glory for me to look back at them at my leisure.

My beloved asked, "Where do you want me to put these?" and my honest response was, "In a cement bunker in an undisclosed location."  Taking them was like an out-of-body experience. The automatic sucking-in-of-the-gut is a more difficult response to avoid than I had anticipated. And the post-prandial timing, harsh lighting, and exposure of my never before seen on film tummy pretty much assures that  every bulge and ripple is documented in living color. Also, from the front, side, and back. (Oh my GOD, what was I thinking?!!!)

Before I go off the deep end and dive into the pool of self-hatred, I do have a plan. While I ate an non-ideal diet over Christmas (and gained 5 more pounds, yay!) at least I avoided the worst of it, including gluten. These pictures will show a baseline that I can return to when I am frustrated down the line. Measurements and photos don't lie the way the scale can, and I am using both to keep me honest and moving forward.  And strangely, knowing that it's over and done with and I am moving forward from this point: that it's just a benchmark- is strangely freeing.

I am moving forward with my plans to visit a naturopath: I see him on Thursday, and the acupuncturist again Wednesday. I'm right back on track with my Bulletproof coffee and 50 grams of protein at breakfast- these photos leave no room for doubt, I am leptin-resistant, and have no business IF-ing. Logging my meals on Sparkpeople (tracking protien and carbs, not calories) is oddly satisfying. My daily walk with Sir Grok and the dogs is something I look forward to, and I am enjoying the prospect of leafing through my new Paleo cookbooks and hitting Trader Joe's today. My new Fitbit will be arriving on Wednesday. It's a strange feeling, but we're moving forward!

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