keeping a promise (lyn)

I once had a small job with a big title.  I worked at Simon & Schuster, a major publishing house headquartered in Manhattan.  I was given a coveted corner office and reported directly to the President who oversaw five divisions.  The perks were great.  I started working out daily at Cardio Fitness, an elite gym across the street from where I worked (all paid for by the company).  The people were nice.  My office, in Rockefeller Center, had floor to ceiling windows on three sides.  Everything was perfect except for the job. There really was none.  I looked forward to my two-hour lunches so I could work out.  The rest of the day was spent trying to figure out why I was there.  Apparently no one seemed to know.

My escape was not food, but shopping.  I went on great ski vacations.  Had a summer share in the Hamptons.  Ate out whenever and wherever I wanted.  Purchased the nicest clothes.  Did what I wanted.  And within six months, I had credit card bills totaling about $5,000.

On my salary, I figured I could just about cover the interest payments, and a tiny bit of the principal each month.  My younger sister was getting married that fall, and I remembered being envious.  Not that she had found a wonderful guy (they are still married and he is still wonderful), but because she didn’t have to face her finances alone anymore.

My father ended up giving me the money and I paid off my bills.  Remember that line from Gone with the Wind when Scarlett O’Hara says, ““I’m going to live through this and when it’s all over, I’ll never be hungry again,” as Atlanta burned in the background?  Well, that’s how I felt.  Manhattan wasn’t burning, but I knew that I’d never be in debt again.

It’s been 22 years since I worked in publishing, and I’ve kept my promise.  Despite job losses and long periods of unemployment, I have never accumulated debt.  Even today, my bank account has fallen to a dangerously low level, but I owe almost nothing.

So why write all this?  Because that’s how I feel about my 35 pound weight loss.  As I bring pants in to be altered, or give away clothes that no longer fit, I am certain that I will never again let myself get to the weight that I was last September. 

My friend Meredith reminds me that I have never had an issue with food.  I just ate too much when I started lexapro in May of 2006. 

In my ww meeting, I listen to people who have struggled with their weight for many years.  I am fortunate.  My weight gain was a simple case of not paying attention. I know that will never happen again.