If you have been following my journey, you know that my number on the scale runs my life. There is no need for me to say more. Also, I have searched the book store high and low for my 365-day plan to recovery. I have even asked Amy to write it for me. I feel like if someone tells me what to eat, exercise, and think that I too can make it through recovery. But last week Amy said to me “You wouldn’t listen anyway”. Of course, I adamantly insisted that I would……well at least until she said that Day 1 would be getting rid of my scale. So maybe she was right, maybe I wouldn’t listen.
I made a promise (to myself) to not step on the scale for the rest of the week. I could weigh again on Monday before I saw Amy so that I could inform her how detrimental it would be to my recovery to take away my scale. If I couldn’t weigh every day, how could I know what my day would hold. Weighing myself encouraged better meal choices, more exercise and a much “healthier” me….I was sure of it.
So Operation No Weigh began. The first few days were really tough. Every time I looked at the scale I cussed the fact that I couldn’t get on it. I needed to get on it. I needed to know where I was starting. I needed to know how I was supposed to navigate my way through the day. But I did learn one thing on Day One and Day Two of Operation No Weigh, and that was you should drink less water, which means less visits to the bathroom and less run-ins with the scale. Lesson learned.
By Wednesday, I was a mess. I was receiving support from friends and family. Encouragement that I was doing the right thing. I received a picture of a scale stating “You Are More Important Than This Number”. Even people I did not know were ganging up on me on twitter. I open twitter and my first unread tweet was an article “Why The Number On The Scale Shouldn’t Determine Your Happiness”. Really complete strangers joining in to kick me while I’m down. I was not looking for support. I was looking for validation that I could not survive without a number. For me Operation No Weigh had turned into Operation No Weigh (Way) I Can. I felt defeated. How can all of these people believe in me but I cannot just believe in myself. But my husband, always knowing when to step in held me tight while I just sobbed. Together we search for the positive things that I was learning about this journey. I shared that all I cared about was getting on that scale on Monday and if the number was higher (even a pound or two) I would prove once and for all, that I could not survive without my scale.
So we trudged through the rest of the week. I would just glare at the scale in passing. But on Sunday, I got to touch my scale. I was like a kid at Christmas. Jumping around excited that someone got to use my scale, even if it was not me. Just to see the pretty blue eyes of my scale light up was enough to get me through until tomorrow when I too got to step upon him and he could prove to the world that we are an inseparable pair.
And so, today is Monday. I was ready to get on the scale. I was prepared (or I hoped I was) for the higher number to show that I need that number for guidance. I ever so gently nudge him with my big toe and immediately his blue eyes open (0.0). I take a deep breath and step on. I close my eyes because it takes him a few seconds to decide my fate. Slowly I open ~ 122.4. OMG, What??? I am down two pounds. This is the first time I have seen 122 since I joined the fight for my recovery. I have to admit, I jumped off and screamed. I even got back on to make sure that it was not a cruel joke.
What I learned ~ Operation No Weigh which by mid-week had turned to Operation No Weigh I Can has come full circle. It most fitting will be called Operation No Weigh: I CAN!