Frustration

At this precise moment, I long to smash my shiny glass scale with a hammer.

I'm eating well. I make myself go out and walk regularly. My weight? It stays the same--or goes up a couple of pounds.

The curve on which I grade my own obsessive tendencies is definitely skewed, as I spent a sizable chunk of my life with an eating disorder. The number on the scale is annoying me, but not consuming me. Today, however, it's annoying me a lot more than usual.

That's probably because I'm annoyed about other things, like that my job is being eliminated. I know for a fact that my work is not only important, but an asset to their business. The people behind the elimination of this job ultimately have little to no idea what I do or what the impact of laying me off will be. (That's usually the way it works, isn't it?) I've always worked really hard for this agency; in 2008, I left a full-time job there after two years because I had so many stress-related medical problems (stomach issues, migraines, panic attacks). It had to almost kill me for me to quit, and even then, I quit reluctantly.

I came back part-time last summer because they would work around my schedule and because I really needed the money--I had one job as a blogger that only lasted a couple of months, so I went about ten months without any income. There was just nothing out there--I sent out hundreds of resumes and had a bunch of interviews. One of the reasons I actually went forward with weight-loss surgery was because of these circumstances--because I had time to fight the insurance company. Even though I went without working or drawing unemployment all that time, it was really like earning $25K because the weight-loss surgery was covered and only cost us about $5K out of pocket.

There doesn't seem to be much out there now in the way of jobs. At ALL. I don't know if I can get unemployment this time--I really hope I can, assume I can because my job is being eliminated, despite veiled hints that they "might" want me to come in and do a little work for them here and there as they figure out their whole restructuring scenario over the next few months. This is the ultimate frustration: this is all I'm worth?

I'm trying to figure out what to do next--what's actually feasible for me to do next. If I had my druthers, I would pursue a technical writing certificate/degree, and I'm looking into that--but funding is an obstacle.

I also wonder if I'm more likely to get hired now because I weigh less. It's a shallow world.

Weighing in on bathroom scales

For my entire adult life, I did not keep a bathroom scale in my house. A little over a year ago, my husband and I actually bought one--but only to weigh our luggage so it would comply with international air travel guidelines for a trip we were taking. The bathroom scale lives in the closet the rest of the time. I'm not even tempted to use it.

20+ years ago, when I was in the throes of an active eating disorder, I let the number on the scale control my life far too much. You weigh less in the morning, and your weight can fluctuate by several pounds on any given day for any number of reasons. I allowed that number to not only ruin my day or give me false hope, but to define my worth as a human being. For many years, I stated I would take my life if I reached 200 pounds, and at the time, I actually believed that I meant it (which is frightening).

For me personally, I find it more constructive to assess (a)how I feel physically and (b) how my clothes fit. I know when I'm making healthy diet and exercise choices and when I'm not. I don't even want to think about what the scale number is most of the time--it can be overwhelming and ultimately just lead to discouragement.