In fat camp, and I should probably stop referring to it as that–it isn’t descriptive of what it’s about in any remotely accurate way, and it does sort of reduce the experience to a joke. Which it isn’t.
What it is, really, is about coming to terms with being able to make choices over the course of your life that enhance it. The focus is health and weight, but the lesson is really that to manage your weight you kind of need to manage your life.
Anyway, the tools are the same.
Mindfulness, stress management, exercise and good choices. Blah, blah, blah. Balance.
Oh, I didn’t exactly finish the first sentence. Wow. Sloppy. Moving on.
One of the things they are trying to instill in us is to stop associating what we eat with the concept of good and bad. Cake is not inherently bad. Bourbon either. Eating high calorie foods is not inherently bad. People who overheat high calorie foods and get fat are not inherently bad.
Bad choices do not equal bad people.
We are discouraged from saying things like “I was so bad last night–I ate a whole bag of potato chips for dinner instead of organic oven-roasted eggplant with kale.” If the instructor hears us using the word bad in that context, she’s likely to ask us if we killed a puppy or staged a terrorist attack or if we just ate too much. It’s an important distinction. It seems like it would be obvious, doesn’t it?
The idea is that everyone will sometimes make choices that are imperfect. People who are successful at long term weight management learn to pay attention, not get upset about a one time failure, and go back to their path without self-hate. If you make mostly good choices, things work out.
Yes, it does also apply to life in general. You are catching on very quickly.
Fat camp is about living your life.
One of the things we talked about was being kinder to yourself. Negative and positive self talk. Both expressions make me want to puke, but it’s the terms, not the concepts. The concepts are good.
In one class, someone said that if our friends talked to us the way we talk to ourselves, they wouldn’t be our friends for long. It made sense, but it just sort of went in one ear and fell on the floor on the other side.
One of the steps the class recommended was to find a personal mantra and I struggled with it. For a couple of reasons. For one thing–jargon. Mantra and positive affirmation are both terms that are over employed. In my opinion, of course. Also, the sheer positivity of it for this cynic was a challenge. Positive affirmations don’t sound like ME, they sound like Stuart Smalley. Who the fuck wants to sound like that? More importantly, who wants to listen to that? Not me.
The first ones that came to mind were “get over yourself, jeez” and “stop being such a self centered dumbass” which were nixed by the class. I eventually settled on “give yourself a fucking break” which is effective in that at least it sounds believable. The class was not convinced, but shortly after I showed them a blog about the benefits of using profanity in a daily affirmation and told them all to fuck off. OK, not the second part. We aren’t allowed to swear in fat camp.
Anyway.
It didn’t really click with me until something happened at work. I did something a little bit dumb. Something minor. I don’t even remember what it was, but I was obsessing about it. I had gone to the ladies room, and as I washed my hands I looked in the mirror and said “You are such a fucking dumbass” to myself and when I heard myself say it, I suddenly I got it. I really heard it.
I call myself names all the fucking time. And I mean it. How can you try to be positive and give yourself that kind of feedback? Hint: you can’t. I finally recognized, really, that I was not doing myself a favor by treating myself like shit. I deserve the same sort of kindness I would provide to a friend. I normally don’t swear at my friends and call them dumbasses unless they’ve done something horrifically stupid.
So I started paying attention. It was not easy. It was more than a little sad. It’s improving. But I have to really stay on it. Isn’t it weird that my default opinion about myself would be that I suck?
I’ve never sucked at anything. Ever. Except eating.
Do you think maybe I could give myself a fucking break about it, and acknowledge that I am trying?
(That was it there. Way to go, me)
Weight management and life in general are about learning to make mistakes, self correct and move on. Move on being the key phrase. Yeah. Letting go is something I am working on. Still. Always. Just ask my boyfriend from the ninth grade. I am good at grudges, but learning to forgive though. It’s getting better. I’m mostly still having trouble with the grudges against myself at this point.
We are nearing the end of the 6 month class, and the psychologist asked us about our future goals, and I mentioned how I am trying to do more things that scare me. Like what? They asked. Like talking to people, I said.
Puzzled look.
“I’m introverted,” I clarify.
Eyebrows raise in the room.
“I am! But not at work,” I clarify again.
“Ohhhh.” They say.
What else?
“Socializing more.”
More puzzled looks.
“Didn’t you just mention that you were wiped out from too much partying?”
“I’ve been doing well at some of my goals, at least. And partying is tiring for me mentally. I’m an introvert. Can you call it a success if I socialized and just forget about the complete dietary and health failure of the weekend?”
For the last class, the psychologist would like us to think about our life values or our priorities in living. I’m kind of stuck, because I’m supposed to list them, I don’t really think I have any. In class, I could only think of things that aren’t important to me. Prestige. Money. Flat abs. I couldn’t think of anything I valued. People, yes.
I guess there are some obvious ones. Love. Sex. Time. Companionship. Independence/self-reliance. Respect. Laughter. Creativity.
Maybe I am not as stuck as I thought.
Thanks for the help! Talking to you always helps clear things up.
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