Yeah, I've been on a 3 month bender. lol There have been days where I've done well, but for the most part I went back to a lot of my old ways. I've made a few small but permanent changes (drinking more water, looking for grilled foods instead of fried foods when I eat out, etc) which make me proud. But I can't sugar-coat it.... I've been a MAJOR slacker! And with the holidays just ending I will admit that I'm afraid to get on the scale. There are no excuses. Well, I could make some up but we all know they're just excuses. I've been lazy. I haven't tried nearly as hard as I should have. That will change. That MUST change. I'm not even going to wait for the New Year to make that resolution. (We all know 98% of New Year's resolutions are broken by Valentine's Day anyway.)
There was a book I used to love when I was a kid called Goose Goofs Off and the goose's line was always "Not today. I'm taking it easy today. I'll do it tomorrow." That must not be my mantra anymore. I will take it easy when my work is done. I'm doing this TODAY.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Jinkies!!!
This week, I started off doing really well. I had boiled eggs for the week's lunch salads, chopped cucumbers, and shredded carrots on Sunday afternoon. I packaged my almonds for the week, made sure I had healthy granola bars for breakfast, etc. I was kind of proud of myself. Monday was great. Tuesday was fine, until I got sick after lunch. I'm not sure why, since I ate the exact same thing from the same packages as Monday.... with the exception of the bagged lettuce. Well, let's just say I couldn't keep food down for a day or so, and avoided salads for the rest of the week. I just tried to watch my portions, skip the junk food, and drink more water. The weird thing is.... even though I skipped meals, I never once got that grumbly in my tummy like I was starving. I actually feel hungrier when I eat than I do when I DON'T eat. How weird is that?
I am proud to say that this morning, the scale rewarded me by showing a number that was 6.8 lbs LESS than last week! I'm sure part of it was being sick, and part was due to me no longer being bloated from the "gift" that wench called Mother Nature had for me last week. Hey, maybe the scale needs new batteries. Who knows? But I'll take it. :-)
This week, I'm still kind of nervous about eating salads. I didn't buy any salad stuff at the store today. I'm going to go for the mini portions of dinner leftovers and see how that goes. I DO realize that I need to eat more veggies so I stocked up today at the store. Hopefully if I fill myself up with green beans and whatnot, I won't be so tempted to eat tons of leftovers.
And, despite 3 phone calls last week, my doctor STILL hasn't called me back about the pre-approval for the nutritionist (or the results of my blood test for Rheumatoid Arthritis.) Seriously, dude.... I know you're busy and probably have a ton of patients, but dang it, YOU'RE the one pushing me to lose the weight and telling me if I don't, I'm going to die. You'd think you'd get off your arse and get this taken care of. If I could do it myself, it would already be done.... but I can't. They need to talk to a DOCTOR. So please do your job before I start getting beligerant. I don't think that's too much to ask. I'm on a roll here and you're cramping my momentum.
I am proud to say that this morning, the scale rewarded me by showing a number that was 6.8 lbs LESS than last week! I'm sure part of it was being sick, and part was due to me no longer being bloated from the "gift" that wench called Mother Nature had for me last week. Hey, maybe the scale needs new batteries. Who knows? But I'll take it. :-)
This week, I'm still kind of nervous about eating salads. I didn't buy any salad stuff at the store today. I'm going to go for the mini portions of dinner leftovers and see how that goes. I DO realize that I need to eat more veggies so I stocked up today at the store. Hopefully if I fill myself up with green beans and whatnot, I won't be so tempted to eat tons of leftovers.
And, despite 3 phone calls last week, my doctor STILL hasn't called me back about the pre-approval for the nutritionist (or the results of my blood test for Rheumatoid Arthritis.) Seriously, dude.... I know you're busy and probably have a ton of patients, but dang it, YOU'RE the one pushing me to lose the weight and telling me if I don't, I'm going to die. You'd think you'd get off your arse and get this taken care of. If I could do it myself, it would already be done.... but I can't. They need to talk to a DOCTOR. So please do your job before I start getting beligerant. I don't think that's too much to ask. I'm on a roll here and you're cramping my momentum.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Effin bike pedals!
Guess what I didn't do last night? UGH! I swear, my mind has about a 12 second capacity. After 12 seconds, you may as well forget it. I think maybe I need to write out a schedule for my days so that I actually REMEMBER to do the things I need to do - like exercising. And making my salad for lunch. If it's not all ready and staring me in the face, it's too easy for me to say "Forget this" and make myself a giant bowl of pasta with butter & parmesan cheese for lunch. Sad, isn't it? That taking 20 minutes to make pasta wins out over taking 6 minutes to make myself a salad. I don't eat NEARLY enough vegetables so the salad is sort of a must. Although I have to admit, I ate a giant salad an hour ago and I'm already starving. I even put a hard boiled egg in it (protein) which is supposed to help fill you up. I recken my stomach is just too big to fill. But that WILL change.
This morning was a REALLY trying morning with the munchkin. Whoever coined the term "terrible 2's" must not have ever known a 3 year old. It's sort of a vicious cycle because I tend to eat to comfort myself. So when I am angry, sad, upset, etc - I eat. And I admit, a lot of times after munchkin and I have battled it out for several hours in a row, I just want a giant brownie sundae or a deep dish pizza. Yeah - back in the day I could eat an entire large pizza by myself and not feel stuffed. How pathetic is THAT? Or I would go through a drive-thru and order 2 value meals and eat them both myself. I'd make the 2 drinks different, as if, somehow, the person working there wouldn't put 2 and 2 together and realize that there WASN'T a second person waiting for their food - it was all for me. Looking back, it's hard to believe I used to do that. I mean, if I look at all the money I've wasted on fast food (which is a HUGE part of how I got to be as big as I am) I probably could have bought myself a Ferrari. Instead, I decided to "eat" that money and as a result I probably couldn't even FIT in a Ferrari. Go me. I DO have a snack, but I'm trying to save it for later. Ten whole almonds. Whoopee.
Tonight, I have counseling. I started going in hopes of learning ways to cope with my Panic Disorder and Depression. Recently, we've spent quite a bit of time talking about my weight and my desire to lose some of the excess poundage. I don't really get much out of our sessions, to be honest. But I'm hoping to have what I call the Karate Kid Effect - where you just grunt along, pissing and moaning about all the mindless work you have to do and then one day it will all just click, and I'll realize that the seemingly meaningless crap I've been doing all along really DID teach me something. Anyway, counseling nights always spell trouble because I usually end up going through a drive-thru and eating garbage that I shouldn't. Having an appointment right around dinner time is a bad idea when you're dieting, but it really IS the only timeframe that will work where I won't have to bring the munchkin with me. And let's be honest.... after dealing with Little Miss Attitude all day long, I kind of enjoy the break.
While typing that last paragraph, I just ate those 10 almonds. I'm still starving.
This morning was a REALLY trying morning with the munchkin. Whoever coined the term "terrible 2's" must not have ever known a 3 year old. It's sort of a vicious cycle because I tend to eat to comfort myself. So when I am angry, sad, upset, etc - I eat. And I admit, a lot of times after munchkin and I have battled it out for several hours in a row, I just want a giant brownie sundae or a deep dish pizza. Yeah - back in the day I could eat an entire large pizza by myself and not feel stuffed. How pathetic is THAT? Or I would go through a drive-thru and order 2 value meals and eat them both myself. I'd make the 2 drinks different, as if, somehow, the person working there wouldn't put 2 and 2 together and realize that there WASN'T a second person waiting for their food - it was all for me. Looking back, it's hard to believe I used to do that. I mean, if I look at all the money I've wasted on fast food (which is a HUGE part of how I got to be as big as I am) I probably could have bought myself a Ferrari. Instead, I decided to "eat" that money and as a result I probably couldn't even FIT in a Ferrari. Go me. I DO have a snack, but I'm trying to save it for later. Ten whole almonds. Whoopee.
Tonight, I have counseling. I started going in hopes of learning ways to cope with my Panic Disorder and Depression. Recently, we've spent quite a bit of time talking about my weight and my desire to lose some of the excess poundage. I don't really get much out of our sessions, to be honest. But I'm hoping to have what I call the Karate Kid Effect - where you just grunt along, pissing and moaning about all the mindless work you have to do and then one day it will all just click, and I'll realize that the seemingly meaningless crap I've been doing all along really DID teach me something. Anyway, counseling nights always spell trouble because I usually end up going through a drive-thru and eating garbage that I shouldn't. Having an appointment right around dinner time is a bad idea when you're dieting, but it really IS the only timeframe that will work where I won't have to bring the munchkin with me. And let's be honest.... after dealing with Little Miss Attitude all day long, I kind of enjoy the break.
While typing that last paragraph, I just ate those 10 almonds. I'm still starving.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Jumped head first off the wagon......
Yes, I know.... I've been gone a while. Let's see if I can do a quick recap.
The first week of my diet, I did well at breakfast and lunch. I even started taking a multivitamin every day. Dinners were more difficult, and passing up the ice cream that my fiance' eats just about every night was painfilly difficult. I wanted it. I wanted it SO bad! Once or twice, I cheated, but more often than not, I was able to say no and mean it. I did have fast food a few times, more out of necessity/lack of time than anything else. And it was pretty darn tasty. I did absolutely NO exercise. That week, I lost 1.2 lbs. I know it could have been more, and I wish it had been more, but it was a start.
Week 2 I pretty much blew that diet. I was getting ready for "that time" and was eating everything in sight. I barely ate a single healthy food. No exercise. A few trips through the drive-thru. I gained 2.0 lbs. I tried to convince myself it was water weight gain from my impending gift from mother nature. It's funny how you try to justify being fat in order to take the blame off yourself.
Week 3 I tried to eat a little better. I didn't have many veggies but I made wiser choices (ie grilled chicken instead of a big, juicy cheeseburger with fries.) I still didn't exercise. I need to get those dang pedals out, but I keep blowing it off. I should take them out and put them in the middle of the living room so I can't ignore them anymore. I lost 0.8lbs that week, which puts me right back to where I started, weight-wise.
I also visited my doctor last week. My intention was to talk to him about my diet and to let him know that I wanted to try to lose some of the weight on my own, rather than go for weight loss surgery - which he is REALLY pushing me to do. But I'm scared. The mortality rate for that surgery is FOUR TIMES the mortality rate for other laproscopic (sp) surgeries on thinner people, and to put it bluntly, I don't want to die. Plus, I would be out of commission for a month or more.... that is, of course, assuming there are no complications. We don't have anyone to take care of the munchkin for a month, and my fiance' sure as heck can't take a month off work. Could this be another weak excuse? Sure. But it is my reality. I can't agree to a surgery without knowing that our lives aren't going to unravel afterward.
Anyway, the doctor's visit didn't go so well. He had a student with him, which probably explains why his personality was more harsh and not quite as understanding and supportive as he was the last time I saw him. He pretty much told me that he doesn't think I can lose the weight on my own. He doesn't think I have the strength and the stamina to see it through. Hearing that from him was like a slap in the face.... and it made me angry. He basically told me he thought I was making the wrong choice, but told me to walk 30 minutes a day, 5 days a week, and come back in 2 weeks. He also gave me a referral for a nutritionist that supposedly takes my crappy state insurance, but when I called to confirm that, I was told the DOCTOR has to call and get it pre-authorized. I left him a message about it but never heard back from him. That's pretty typical. I'm pretty sure he's sick of me, pretty sure he thinks I'm crazy and that I waste too much of his time. So I don't even mention half the stuff I should when I see him because it doesn't seem like he believes me anyway. I did, however, mention the pains in my shoulders, elbows, wrists, and fingers on both sides and he is testing me for Rheumatoid Arthritis. UGH!
So today I am "back on the wagon." I WILL do the extra walking and when I'm done with this journal entry, I'm going to dust off those pedals and give 'em a go. Can't hurt, right? I WILL do this, or I will die trying. NOBODY tells me I don't have the stamina to see something through - and I'll do it only to prove the doctor wrong. Maybe next time he has an overweight patient who is struggling and looking to him for help, he won't be so arrogant and unsupportive. There's another goal - I want him to apologize and make him eat his words when I show him I CAN do this. (And if you're out there reading this, whoever you are, some positive and uplifting comments would really help right about now.)
The first week of my diet, I did well at breakfast and lunch. I even started taking a multivitamin every day. Dinners were more difficult, and passing up the ice cream that my fiance' eats just about every night was painfilly difficult. I wanted it. I wanted it SO bad! Once or twice, I cheated, but more often than not, I was able to say no and mean it. I did have fast food a few times, more out of necessity/lack of time than anything else. And it was pretty darn tasty. I did absolutely NO exercise. That week, I lost 1.2 lbs. I know it could have been more, and I wish it had been more, but it was a start.
Week 2 I pretty much blew that diet. I was getting ready for "that time" and was eating everything in sight. I barely ate a single healthy food. No exercise. A few trips through the drive-thru. I gained 2.0 lbs. I tried to convince myself it was water weight gain from my impending gift from mother nature. It's funny how you try to justify being fat in order to take the blame off yourself.
Week 3 I tried to eat a little better. I didn't have many veggies but I made wiser choices (ie grilled chicken instead of a big, juicy cheeseburger with fries.) I still didn't exercise. I need to get those dang pedals out, but I keep blowing it off. I should take them out and put them in the middle of the living room so I can't ignore them anymore. I lost 0.8lbs that week, which puts me right back to where I started, weight-wise.
I also visited my doctor last week. My intention was to talk to him about my diet and to let him know that I wanted to try to lose some of the weight on my own, rather than go for weight loss surgery - which he is REALLY pushing me to do. But I'm scared. The mortality rate for that surgery is FOUR TIMES the mortality rate for other laproscopic (sp) surgeries on thinner people, and to put it bluntly, I don't want to die. Plus, I would be out of commission for a month or more.... that is, of course, assuming there are no complications. We don't have anyone to take care of the munchkin for a month, and my fiance' sure as heck can't take a month off work. Could this be another weak excuse? Sure. But it is my reality. I can't agree to a surgery without knowing that our lives aren't going to unravel afterward.
Anyway, the doctor's visit didn't go so well. He had a student with him, which probably explains why his personality was more harsh and not quite as understanding and supportive as he was the last time I saw him. He pretty much told me that he doesn't think I can lose the weight on my own. He doesn't think I have the strength and the stamina to see it through. Hearing that from him was like a slap in the face.... and it made me angry. He basically told me he thought I was making the wrong choice, but told me to walk 30 minutes a day, 5 days a week, and come back in 2 weeks. He also gave me a referral for a nutritionist that supposedly takes my crappy state insurance, but when I called to confirm that, I was told the DOCTOR has to call and get it pre-authorized. I left him a message about it but never heard back from him. That's pretty typical. I'm pretty sure he's sick of me, pretty sure he thinks I'm crazy and that I waste too much of his time. So I don't even mention half the stuff I should when I see him because it doesn't seem like he believes me anyway. I did, however, mention the pains in my shoulders, elbows, wrists, and fingers on both sides and he is testing me for Rheumatoid Arthritis. UGH!
So today I am "back on the wagon." I WILL do the extra walking and when I'm done with this journal entry, I'm going to dust off those pedals and give 'em a go. Can't hurt, right? I WILL do this, or I will die trying. NOBODY tells me I don't have the stamina to see something through - and I'll do it only to prove the doctor wrong. Maybe next time he has an overweight patient who is struggling and looking to him for help, he won't be so arrogant and unsupportive. There's another goal - I want him to apologize and make him eat his words when I show him I CAN do this. (And if you're out there reading this, whoever you are, some positive and uplifting comments would really help right about now.)
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Day 1 - Not fun!
So I figured I should do some body measurements and jump on the scale on the first day of my new diet. O.... M..... G........ I can't believe how freakin FAT I am! Why didn't anyone ever try to stop me???? Why didn't anyone ever say something? I know I can only blame myself, but I know in my heart that if people had come to me and voiced some concern about my weight and my eating habits, I wouldn't have gotten this big. I won't post my measurements or weight, but I can tell you that I weigh almost exactly TWICE what I should. UGH! I have a LOT of work ahead of me. This is going to suck big hairy donkey nuts.
I ate ok at breakfast. Had to skip the usual Sunday morning cinnamon rolls I always make. That was hard. It sucked. I REALLY wanted them. But I was good. For lunch, I ate a salad. Yeah... I had a SALAD for lunch. Anyone who knows me would probably reach over and feel my forehead if they had seen it. I kid you not - I ate raw vegetables as a meal. About an hour later, I was STARVING so I ate a piece of bread with butter. In my defense, it was whole wheat bread. I probably shouldn't have, but it was either that or some ice cream or potato chips or something. I figured wheat bread & butter was the lesser of the evils. Around 4:00, I was starving again. I ate half a cucumber. Yup. Once again, I managed to convince myself to bypass the foods I love in favor of eating a vegetable. And I don't even see how a cucumber is a vegetable, since it's mostly water. Probably not the best choice to try and fill myself up. lol For dinner, I had braised chicken breasts, cooked baby carrots, and mashed potatoes. I didn't even add the cream cheese to the potatoes - I used garlic instead. They didn't taste very good. The whole dinner was really bland and it made me sad.
I was still starving after dinner, and this is where I got into trouble. I was wrapping up the leftovers and started snacking on the leftover potatoes. I don't even want to know how much I ate, but it probably cancelled out the salad I had for lunch. So I'm back to square one. I kept thinking I needed to get on the exercise pedals, but things just kept coming up - cleaning, dishes, feeding the munchkin, doing laundry, etc. I kept saying "I'll ride right after I finish (fill in the blank)" but by the time I was done, I had forgotten all about riding. I know I'll need to find a way to incorporate exercise into this, or I'll never make my goal. Well, maybe I should actually set a goal first. My goal is not dying and not having a heart attack - that's a pretty good goal, eh?
It's hard to imagine that I will be doing this for months and months. It's a battle, and it's hard. I'm not sure I have the strength. I really need someone to support me, motivate me, and keep me going. *sigh* I just keep telling myself it's either this or dying, and I'd really rather not die. Time for bed now. The battle resumes tomorrow.
I ate ok at breakfast. Had to skip the usual Sunday morning cinnamon rolls I always make. That was hard. It sucked. I REALLY wanted them. But I was good. For lunch, I ate a salad. Yeah... I had a SALAD for lunch. Anyone who knows me would probably reach over and feel my forehead if they had seen it. I kid you not - I ate raw vegetables as a meal. About an hour later, I was STARVING so I ate a piece of bread with butter. In my defense, it was whole wheat bread. I probably shouldn't have, but it was either that or some ice cream or potato chips or something. I figured wheat bread & butter was the lesser of the evils. Around 4:00, I was starving again. I ate half a cucumber. Yup. Once again, I managed to convince myself to bypass the foods I love in favor of eating a vegetable. And I don't even see how a cucumber is a vegetable, since it's mostly water. Probably not the best choice to try and fill myself up. lol For dinner, I had braised chicken breasts, cooked baby carrots, and mashed potatoes. I didn't even add the cream cheese to the potatoes - I used garlic instead. They didn't taste very good. The whole dinner was really bland and it made me sad.
I was still starving after dinner, and this is where I got into trouble. I was wrapping up the leftovers and started snacking on the leftover potatoes. I don't even want to know how much I ate, but it probably cancelled out the salad I had for lunch. So I'm back to square one. I kept thinking I needed to get on the exercise pedals, but things just kept coming up - cleaning, dishes, feeding the munchkin, doing laundry, etc. I kept saying "I'll ride right after I finish (fill in the blank)" but by the time I was done, I had forgotten all about riding. I know I'll need to find a way to incorporate exercise into this, or I'll never make my goal. Well, maybe I should actually set a goal first. My goal is not dying and not having a heart attack - that's a pretty good goal, eh?
It's hard to imagine that I will be doing this for months and months. It's a battle, and it's hard. I'm not sure I have the strength. I really need someone to support me, motivate me, and keep me going. *sigh* I just keep telling myself it's either this or dying, and I'd really rather not die. Time for bed now. The battle resumes tomorrow.
Friday, August 20, 2010
How did I get here?
I weighed 9 lbs 3 ozs when I was born. From day one, I was always heavier than everyone else. I remember being in a ballet recital in kindergarden and they didn't have a tutu big enough to fit me. They had to take a second tutu and sew it to the first one to make one that fit. That was the first time I recall ever being embarrassed about my weight. I was 5 years old. I remember through my early grade school years that I was always "on a diet" and my lunches always had things like carrot sticks and celery in them - which I never ate. I wanted a "normal" lunch like all my friends had - a lunch that had Kool Aid in a thermos instead of room temperature milk. I wanted the cookies and the chips and everything else that would make me "normal" in the other kids' eyes.
As I approached middle school, I moved and transferred to a new school. Kids are SO cruel at that age, and it didn't help that I had thick glasses, good grades, and a Richard Simmons perm. If I sat here and listed every nasty thing that everyone had ever said about my weight, it would probably be enough for me to want to hang myself right here and now. It STILL hurts, even 25 years later. And what did I do when I was upset? I ate. High school and college came and went. Nobody really said much about my weight, but then again, a lot of the people I hung out with had their own monkeys on their backs. It was just an unspoken promise that we wouldn't do anything to agitate each other's demons. They never gave me a hard time about my weight, but I was still miserable inside. I DID manage to lose about 30 pounds in college, because I had the time to exercise and I pretty much had to walk everywhere. By the time I graduated, I had a car and all that weight was back. Then came the times where I would hang out with friends and couldn't fit in the booths at certain restaurants, the plane rides where I was so fat I needed a seatbelt extender, and the one that still gives me nightmares - boarding a roller coaster and having to get right back off because the harness didn't fit me. I wanted to die. I really did. I still cry when I think about that day. Thank God I was with GOOD friends and they didn't say anything, but I can imagine what they must have been thinking.
Do you know the worst thing about being young and overweight? The clothes. I've never been able to shop at a "normal" store. Nothing fits me. I'd LOVE to be able to go into Macy's or Old Navy and buy straight off the rack, or even be able to try things on. But no. Not me. I have to order my clothes through a catalog.... and they're ugly. They're some of the ugliest and most unflattering clothes you could imagine - stuff that a homeless person would probably not wear as a top layer for fear of being made fun of by the other homeless people. THAT'S how ugly "plus sized" clothing is. And there's no such thing as a store that carries CUTE and SEXY bras, panties, and lingerie for heavier women. I wonder if it even exists, and if it does, if it comes big enough to fit without making me look like I've been stuffed into a sausage casing. Let's face it - NOTHING looks sexy or flattering when you're pushing 400 pounds. That's one of my goals - I want to be able to shop wherever I want. I want people to look at me and think that I'm actually pretty. I want to be able to wear some of the latest styles - I'm so tired of these A-line tunics that I may very well burn them once the weight is gone.
Because of my weight, obviously not many guys would give me the time of day. And that saddened me as well. I'm smart, I'm kind, I'm funny, and I would do just about anything for the people I love. Aside from my weight, I'm a pretty darn good catch. But guys couldn't see past the extra pounds, and I was insanely lonely. It was the teenage and college-aged guys who made my self-esteem plummet.... and they still do. You don't have to be a rocket scientist to know when people are snickering and pointing at you. It's no big secret that when a car full of 17 year old guys drives by yelling "Hey baby! WOO HOO! Sexyyyyy!!!" they don't really mean it. I am 34 years old and those young guys still manage to break me down several times a week. And the kids.... oh my God, the kids are the worst. It's not uncommon for a 5 year old to point at me and say something like "Wow Mommy, why's that lady so fat?" And you know what? The mother NEVER reprimands the daughter for it. They usually just shush the child and move away from me. To me, that's the PERFECT time to teach your child about acceptance and polite social behavior - to teach them that not everyone looks exactly the same.... and that's OK. Sure, I hold my head high and ignore them, not giving them the satisfaction of knowing that what they're saying makes me want to burst into tears and never leave my house again.
Despite my weight, I managed to meet and fall in love with the most wonderful man. He is kind and he loves me for WHO I am, not WHAT I am. He loves me whether I weigh 500 pounds or 100 pounds. I can't even begin to explain how amazing it feels... after all these years... to be accepted and loved, knowing that the man I love in return sees past the extra weight and straight into my heart.
I also managed to give birth to the most beautiful, funny, and curious little girl - one who ALWAYS has a smile on her face. Her smile and laugh is so contagious that it's actually impossible to be in a bad mood when she's around. I've known people who are having a bad day who have asked me to bring her over for a visit just so she can spread some of the sunshine that radiates from her very soul. She is the light of my life, and part of the reason I'm embarking on this journey - she deserves a mommy who can play with her and keep up with her. Right now I can't, and it kills me. I try not to cry in front of her, but sometimes it's hard. And then her innocent eyes get all worried and she asks "Mommy, why are you sad? Why you crying, Mommy?" And there's another 8 billion knives right into my already damaged heart.
About a year after she was born, my boyfriend proposed and I accepted. We're getting married! It took me a while to find my prince charming, but yes - there's a wedding in my future. :-) Unfortunately, that also means I have to find a wedding DRESS and that nightmare has actually awakened me during the night in a cold sweat. A street size 32 means a formal wear size of 36 or 38 - and those dresses just don't exist. There isn't a single bridal shop in a 500 mile radius that carries a size 36 sample dress in ANY style. I don't even know if the designers make them that big. And I'll be honest - I don't want to look like a beached whale on my wedding day. I've shed so many tears at the thought of having to special order my wedding dress without ever being able to try it on. I WANT to go wedding dress shopping. I WANT to try different dresses on and show them to my mother and look for the tears to form in the corner of her eyes when I find THE DRESS. Unless I lose weight, I can kiss that dream goodbye as well.
Of course I have all sorts of health problems related to my weight and my doctor has pretty much told me that if I don't lose weight NOW, I will die. How can I do that to my beautiful little girl - leave her without a mommy just because I am addicted to food? How can I leave her when she's too young to remember me? How can I leave my fiance' and everyone else who cares about me when it IS possible to change my own fate? It's like Ebineezer Scrooge when he wakes up after being visited by the 3 ghosts. He's so thankful to be alive and decides that change is not only a good idea, but a necessity. Losing this weight has become MY necessity.
So that's where I've been, and I'm ready to stop living in the past and move forward. I can't promise this will always be the most uplifting blog, but I CAN promise that it'll be one of the most honest that you'll ever read. Hopefully I will be an encouragement to others, to make whatever changes THEIR lives need. Hopefully I will show that fat people are real people with real feelings, and maybe you'll think twice before making fun of someone due to their weight once you read this. And maybe, once in a while, someone will leave a comment that will encourage me to keep on going when what I want to do is give up. I KNOW those days will come, but dammit, I WILL be a beautiful butterfly at the end of my journey!!!
As I approached middle school, I moved and transferred to a new school. Kids are SO cruel at that age, and it didn't help that I had thick glasses, good grades, and a Richard Simmons perm. If I sat here and listed every nasty thing that everyone had ever said about my weight, it would probably be enough for me to want to hang myself right here and now. It STILL hurts, even 25 years later. And what did I do when I was upset? I ate. High school and college came and went. Nobody really said much about my weight, but then again, a lot of the people I hung out with had their own monkeys on their backs. It was just an unspoken promise that we wouldn't do anything to agitate each other's demons. They never gave me a hard time about my weight, but I was still miserable inside. I DID manage to lose about 30 pounds in college, because I had the time to exercise and I pretty much had to walk everywhere. By the time I graduated, I had a car and all that weight was back. Then came the times where I would hang out with friends and couldn't fit in the booths at certain restaurants, the plane rides where I was so fat I needed a seatbelt extender, and the one that still gives me nightmares - boarding a roller coaster and having to get right back off because the harness didn't fit me. I wanted to die. I really did. I still cry when I think about that day. Thank God I was with GOOD friends and they didn't say anything, but I can imagine what they must have been thinking.
Do you know the worst thing about being young and overweight? The clothes. I've never been able to shop at a "normal" store. Nothing fits me. I'd LOVE to be able to go into Macy's or Old Navy and buy straight off the rack, or even be able to try things on. But no. Not me. I have to order my clothes through a catalog.... and they're ugly. They're some of the ugliest and most unflattering clothes you could imagine - stuff that a homeless person would probably not wear as a top layer for fear of being made fun of by the other homeless people. THAT'S how ugly "plus sized" clothing is. And there's no such thing as a store that carries CUTE and SEXY bras, panties, and lingerie for heavier women. I wonder if it even exists, and if it does, if it comes big enough to fit without making me look like I've been stuffed into a sausage casing. Let's face it - NOTHING looks sexy or flattering when you're pushing 400 pounds. That's one of my goals - I want to be able to shop wherever I want. I want people to look at me and think that I'm actually pretty. I want to be able to wear some of the latest styles - I'm so tired of these A-line tunics that I may very well burn them once the weight is gone.
Because of my weight, obviously not many guys would give me the time of day. And that saddened me as well. I'm smart, I'm kind, I'm funny, and I would do just about anything for the people I love. Aside from my weight, I'm a pretty darn good catch. But guys couldn't see past the extra pounds, and I was insanely lonely. It was the teenage and college-aged guys who made my self-esteem plummet.... and they still do. You don't have to be a rocket scientist to know when people are snickering and pointing at you. It's no big secret that when a car full of 17 year old guys drives by yelling "Hey baby! WOO HOO! Sexyyyyy!!!" they don't really mean it. I am 34 years old and those young guys still manage to break me down several times a week. And the kids.... oh my God, the kids are the worst. It's not uncommon for a 5 year old to point at me and say something like "Wow Mommy, why's that lady so fat?" And you know what? The mother NEVER reprimands the daughter for it. They usually just shush the child and move away from me. To me, that's the PERFECT time to teach your child about acceptance and polite social behavior - to teach them that not everyone looks exactly the same.... and that's OK. Sure, I hold my head high and ignore them, not giving them the satisfaction of knowing that what they're saying makes me want to burst into tears and never leave my house again.
Despite my weight, I managed to meet and fall in love with the most wonderful man. He is kind and he loves me for WHO I am, not WHAT I am. He loves me whether I weigh 500 pounds or 100 pounds. I can't even begin to explain how amazing it feels... after all these years... to be accepted and loved, knowing that the man I love in return sees past the extra weight and straight into my heart.
I also managed to give birth to the most beautiful, funny, and curious little girl - one who ALWAYS has a smile on her face. Her smile and laugh is so contagious that it's actually impossible to be in a bad mood when she's around. I've known people who are having a bad day who have asked me to bring her over for a visit just so she can spread some of the sunshine that radiates from her very soul. She is the light of my life, and part of the reason I'm embarking on this journey - she deserves a mommy who can play with her and keep up with her. Right now I can't, and it kills me. I try not to cry in front of her, but sometimes it's hard. And then her innocent eyes get all worried and she asks "Mommy, why are you sad? Why you crying, Mommy?" And there's another 8 billion knives right into my already damaged heart.
About a year after she was born, my boyfriend proposed and I accepted. We're getting married! It took me a while to find my prince charming, but yes - there's a wedding in my future. :-) Unfortunately, that also means I have to find a wedding DRESS and that nightmare has actually awakened me during the night in a cold sweat. A street size 32 means a formal wear size of 36 or 38 - and those dresses just don't exist. There isn't a single bridal shop in a 500 mile radius that carries a size 36 sample dress in ANY style. I don't even know if the designers make them that big. And I'll be honest - I don't want to look like a beached whale on my wedding day. I've shed so many tears at the thought of having to special order my wedding dress without ever being able to try it on. I WANT to go wedding dress shopping. I WANT to try different dresses on and show them to my mother and look for the tears to form in the corner of her eyes when I find THE DRESS. Unless I lose weight, I can kiss that dream goodbye as well.
Of course I have all sorts of health problems related to my weight and my doctor has pretty much told me that if I don't lose weight NOW, I will die. How can I do that to my beautiful little girl - leave her without a mommy just because I am addicted to food? How can I leave her when she's too young to remember me? How can I leave my fiance' and everyone else who cares about me when it IS possible to change my own fate? It's like Ebineezer Scrooge when he wakes up after being visited by the 3 ghosts. He's so thankful to be alive and decides that change is not only a good idea, but a necessity. Losing this weight has become MY necessity.
So that's where I've been, and I'm ready to stop living in the past and move forward. I can't promise this will always be the most uplifting blog, but I CAN promise that it'll be one of the most honest that you'll ever read. Hopefully I will be an encouragement to others, to make whatever changes THEIR lives need. Hopefully I will show that fat people are real people with real feelings, and maybe you'll think twice before making fun of someone due to their weight once you read this. And maybe, once in a while, someone will leave a comment that will encourage me to keep on going when what I want to do is give up. I KNOW those days will come, but dammit, I WILL be a beautiful butterfly at the end of my journey!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)