When you've been fat as long as I have, it is the hardest thing in the world to take responsibility for my own actions. It's hard to admit that I am fat by my own doing. And it is harder still to admit that it's my own fault if I stay fat.
For some reason, us fatties just want to wake up and be thin; we don't want to spend the time it takes to make ourselves that way. I truly believe that is because we have spent so much time avoiding our growing bodies that we feel like we did just that: woke up fat. And if we can wake up fat, then why can't we wake up thin?
Today I had a hard realization: I have complete control over my weight. I have been lax on my exercising (skipping days, not working as hard) and have been allowing myself to eat like a hog again (filling a void with food) and, as a result, I have gained weight.
I was so excited to see my scale go down to my lowest weight in over a year that it totally crushed me to see it go back up again. And it was harder still to hold myself accountable.
I'm full and I want to have a slice of pizza because I have associated bad feelings with carbs. Carbs are like bandaids: they cover the wound so that you forget it's there, but when the bandaid comes off, you see the scar. Repeat cycle several times, for several years and you've got me: the poster child for weight gain. I've put on about 120lbs in the last 8 yrs (and this is a generous estimate) and even though I have finally started to feel strong enough to tackle my weight, it gets hard. I want to eat what I want and exercise only when I feel like it and still have a perfect body, but that is unrealistic and it is NOT the life I live. I laid out this road, now I must learn it, master it and lay out a better road for myself.
I have to change the voices inside my head and make them like me.
I will write love on my arms and embrace all the imperfections that make me fucking perfect.
Once again, its hard, but I will press: publish post
Monday, November 28, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
The First Post is Always the Hardest
I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing here and I am pretty darn sure that this is a huge mistake. If not a mistake now, then it will be a mistake in the near future. While I consider myself to be a pretty open person, the subject of my weight has always been a taboo subject. I do not tend to like to talk about it unless I am giving the usual: I'm on a diet. I wanna lose weight.
You know. The same old spiel that keeps people from realizing what a true, lazy lard ass you are.
Because they can see how fat you are and it troubles them to think that you aren't doing anything about it. I mean, how could you NOT do anything about it? How can you look at your fat body in the mirror and not be so disgusted that you stop eating and start exercising and you don't eat again until you are a perfect size 2?
The answer is easy: you DON'T look in the mirror. You avoid all activities that involve you coming in contact with your reflection. This works for a while, but you continue to grow. And grow. Not taller, wider. Your clothes stop fitting and you are tired more often and you start to feel heavy. Really heavy.
And then it happens:
you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and the sight knocks the wind out of you: you're fat! Like, really fat! when did this happen? why weren't you there for this momentous event?
Then you either do one of two things: you descend into an epic depression and grab the nearest tub of ice cream and cookies or you go on a diet/exercise binge that ends in temporary results and ultimate failure and THEN you grab your cookies and ice cream. Repeat this a few times and then a few years go by and your size 20's are starting to feel a little snug and you're in front of that mirror again and then it happens: you get mad. you get mad and you get tired. and THEN you change.
This is where I am now. At my heaviest, I tipped the scales at 309lbs, I was squeezing into my clothes and feeling like I was carrying the weight of the world. It might not have been the weight of the world, but it was definitely the weight of another human: I needed to lose at least 140lbs to be at a "healthy" weight. My doctor recommended gastric bypass and people around me starting dropping the dreaded "hints": "Maybe you should go the gym with me. It'll be fun!" "I just started these diet pills, do you want one?" "You know that if you stop eating carbs, the pounds will melt off?"
Note: I did NOT, (I repeat did NOT) kill any of these people, though I have had plenty of orgasmic dreams about doing so. You see, these people have the gross misconception that I do not know how to lose weight. That's not it. I read, I watch TV, I am not an idiot: I know that diet, exercise and drinking lots of water is ideal for weight loss and great health.
So why am I fat?
That answer is simple too: I ignored myself for about 8 years. I allowed raising my children, taking care of my husband, my career, my education, my husband's business and everything else trump taking care of myself. Now, I am not saying that these things force-fed me all those delicious calories in the form of cookies and cakes and steak and cheeses, because that would be a lie. I am saying that I let "life" become more important than the health of my body. I let my depression and ambition and hectic life take over and picking up burgers was so much easier than cooking a healthy meal for myself. Staying up late with my babies or doing homework was more important than sleep or exercising. I have made attempts at dropping the weight before now and I always gave up if I didn't see results fast enough. "Why work so hard if I was only gonna lose 2lbs a week? I want to lose my 100lbs NOW!"
I now realize that it took 8yrs to pack on this weight and giving it at least 2yrs to come back off is realistic and acceptable.
Follow me on my journey. Knowing that someone might be reading and laughing at me or reading and talking trash about me or reading and crying before deciding to join me makes writing this worthwhile. If I can let just one person know that they are not alone, then this public embarassment is worth it.
And it's embarassing for me. I don't want to, but I will press "publish post" now.
You know. The same old spiel that keeps people from realizing what a true, lazy lard ass you are.
Because they can see how fat you are and it troubles them to think that you aren't doing anything about it. I mean, how could you NOT do anything about it? How can you look at your fat body in the mirror and not be so disgusted that you stop eating and start exercising and you don't eat again until you are a perfect size 2?
The answer is easy: you DON'T look in the mirror. You avoid all activities that involve you coming in contact with your reflection. This works for a while, but you continue to grow. And grow. Not taller, wider. Your clothes stop fitting and you are tired more often and you start to feel heavy. Really heavy.
And then it happens:
you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and the sight knocks the wind out of you: you're fat! Like, really fat! when did this happen? why weren't you there for this momentous event?
Then you either do one of two things: you descend into an epic depression and grab the nearest tub of ice cream and cookies or you go on a diet/exercise binge that ends in temporary results and ultimate failure and THEN you grab your cookies and ice cream. Repeat this a few times and then a few years go by and your size 20's are starting to feel a little snug and you're in front of that mirror again and then it happens: you get mad. you get mad and you get tired. and THEN you change.
This is where I am now. At my heaviest, I tipped the scales at 309lbs, I was squeezing into my clothes and feeling like I was carrying the weight of the world. It might not have been the weight of the world, but it was definitely the weight of another human: I needed to lose at least 140lbs to be at a "healthy" weight. My doctor recommended gastric bypass and people around me starting dropping the dreaded "hints": "Maybe you should go the gym with me. It'll be fun!" "I just started these diet pills, do you want one?" "You know that if you stop eating carbs, the pounds will melt off?"
Note: I did NOT, (I repeat did NOT) kill any of these people, though I have had plenty of orgasmic dreams about doing so. You see, these people have the gross misconception that I do not know how to lose weight. That's not it. I read, I watch TV, I am not an idiot: I know that diet, exercise and drinking lots of water is ideal for weight loss and great health.
So why am I fat?
That answer is simple too: I ignored myself for about 8 years. I allowed raising my children, taking care of my husband, my career, my education, my husband's business and everything else trump taking care of myself. Now, I am not saying that these things force-fed me all those delicious calories in the form of cookies and cakes and steak and cheeses, because that would be a lie. I am saying that I let "life" become more important than the health of my body. I let my depression and ambition and hectic life take over and picking up burgers was so much easier than cooking a healthy meal for myself. Staying up late with my babies or doing homework was more important than sleep or exercising. I have made attempts at dropping the weight before now and I always gave up if I didn't see results fast enough. "Why work so hard if I was only gonna lose 2lbs a week? I want to lose my 100lbs NOW!"
I now realize that it took 8yrs to pack on this weight and giving it at least 2yrs to come back off is realistic and acceptable.
Follow me on my journey. Knowing that someone might be reading and laughing at me or reading and talking trash about me or reading and crying before deciding to join me makes writing this worthwhile. If I can let just one person know that they are not alone, then this public embarassment is worth it.
And it's embarassing for me. I don't want to, but I will press "publish post" now.
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