When I clicked on “add a post” to write about patterns, the page came up with the “post settings,” “preview” and “publish” icons ON THE RIGHT HAND SIDE. Immediately, high anxiety coursed through my body, followed by doubt in myself as a computer savvy old lady.  When I last used this page – maybe 24 hours ago – this listing was on the LEFT, where it SHOULD be.  Maybe I accidentally (or more accurately, STUPIDLY) held the cursor for a SECOND over SOMETHING MYSTERIOUS and rearranged the page.  Or maybe those WordPress computer geniuses who set up the formats for bloggers made a random decision that the page would be better if it were re-arranged and so they did me the favor of making it better for me to use.  I am serious, though, WHO CHANGED THE PATTERN?

(Please believe me, I am not using the word genius in a sarcastic way.  I mean it.  I would never refer to anyone who understands how computers work and how to change that process with anything less than a high degree of respect.  It is a mystery to me, greater than black holes, nuclear fusion or how a teenager thinks.)

hopelessness-477452_640Whenever I begin to pay attention to the patterns that run my dysfunctional relationship with food, it seems there is a manic traffic cop standing in the middle of my mental traffic circle.  I want to get onto any of the number of roads that are labeled “Exercise Regularly,” “Eat More Vegetables,” “Drink More Water,” or “Break Free from Compulsive Eating.” But that nasty traffic cop won’t let me!

I know I could just swerve suddenly in a frantic attempt to merge onto a more successful highway and hope for the best.  But my vehicle has so many dents, scrapes and pieces missing that I’m scared she won’t survive too many more crashes.


I’ve been going to Weight Watcher meetings for three weeks now.  Lost two pounds and then gained them back.  I am afraid that attending the meetings is going to turn into a pattern of behavior that looks like positive action, but instead is another traffic circle that keeps me busy, but not successful.  Yes, I know that thinking this way–predicting failure instead of acknowledging the difficulty and slow pace of change–is just another negative pattern that I have relied on for too long.

I have to be patient with myself and go as slowly as I need to be successful.  But most days I wish I were a computer and some nice reprogramming genius could replace a few circuit boards and I would miraculously turn into the healthy, svelte Michele Obama look-alike that I really am.


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