- Tuesday Jul 12, 2016
So... I feel like I need to begin with a little bit of a back story, just to kind of get it all out.
This is my first time doing anything like this, normally I assume no one wants to hear me rant. Worst case scenario, no one reads this.
Keep in mind, this may sound dry and unenthusiastic, but it's hilarious in my head.
I have been overweight all my life. As I mentioned in my bio, when I was born, I weighed 3 pounds. I believe this caused my mother to panic and feed me until I could no longer eat, so I could gain enough weight for her to take me home. She always liked to joke that she took me home and started feeding me and I never stopped. Love my mom.
I grew up in the late 80's, early 90's. Around the time when everyone was wearing spandex and leggings with the lace on the bottom. It was classy. I was 8 years old and I had a pair of spandex bicycle shorts that were black with a hot pink stripe down the side. I wore them all the time. I remember my grandmother coming over one day and I overheard her tell my mother "Fat little girls shouldn't wear tight pants like that. It's disgusting." That stuck with me.
I have 3 sisters. My oldest sister was gorgeous growing up. I idolized her. She was curvy and thin, everyone knew her and loved her. All of my guy friends lusted after her. My younger sister was tall and skinny, at least until she hit puberty. My youngest sister was 7 years yonger than me, so there wasn't much to compare to, though even as a child, she was beautiful. I was always the short, fat, funny one. I made everyone in my family laugh. I always tried to have an upbeat attitude and I took care of everyone. Everyone knew they could count on me.
With the happy-go-lucky persona I put out, I was severely depressed. I couldn't let anyone see it though. My mom had enough on her. She was raising 4 girls. My sisters needed me. The only thing that made me feel like I was worth anything, was when I could be there for people. If I did things for people, they liked me, and I was accepted. I literally gave everyone anything they asked. Even in high school, I went through a "goth" phase, but I was probably the most smiley goth kid anyone had ever seen. I always hated the way I looked. I cried at nite. I never felt pretty.
My best age was probably when I was 16. I was still overweight, but probably not as bad off as I felt. Guys hit on me, but I never trusted it. I felt like it was all a joke. When I think back on it, I was probably the sexiest I had ever been. I cried thinking I was going to die alone and that no one would ever want me. It wasn't until I was 18 that I realized that guys aren't at all particular and I really had nothing to worry about. I wish someone would have told me sooner.
I then went through my share of bad relationships and one night stands. I steadily gained even more weight over the years. I think the worst part was being with someone who would tell me that they loved "large women". Even though I knew what size I wore, I can't say I've ever really felt like a "large" woman. I stayed away from mirrors and pictures because I hated seeing myself in them. I liked thinking of myself in my own way and I hated the reality of it, so I tried to avoid it whenever I could.
Over the years, I never stepped on a scale, unless I was at a doctor's appointment when I was pregnant with my kids. And even then, I never gave too much to the number, because in the back of my mind, I felt that it was mostly because of the pregnancy, which, unless my kids came out weighing 100 pounds, I probably should have been more concerned about my gain. It wasn't until about 4 years ago, when I went to an eye doctor, and he was concerned about possible diabetic related eye problems, that he recommended that I see a doctor to have my levels checked. Diabetes runs on both sides of my family, and honestly, I am shocked that I am not diabetic. Thankfully, I didn't have any problems and I was surprisingly healthy for my size. However, the doctor told me that I was "Severely, morbidly obese". That scared me to death. I had never heard that before. He told me I weighed 296 pounds and I am 5'4"! I could not believe I practically weighed 300 pounds! The doctor was surprisingly uninterested in this fact, and basically told me that I won't do anything about it. No one ever does. He was jaded and I don't blame him. How many people does he tell that to in a day? Of course, being the rebel that I am, I thought to myself "I'll show him!!!"
I got rid of the sodas, joined a gym, started eating frozen diet meals and I felt better about myself. Within 3 months, I had lost almost 50 pounds. I was down to 247 pounds. I went back to the doctor and I expected at least some reaction from him, all he said was "keep it up." At the time, I had a boyfriend who was less than enthusiastic about my goals and always told me I was going to give up. I realized later that he was afraid of me looking better and feeling better because I would realize I was better off without him. But in the meantime, I allowed his negativity to effect me, and soon I stopped going to the gym and started drinking sodas again, just to get energy to get through the day.
Two years passed and I was back up to 260. I was in a new relationship and I had a new desire to better myself. I fell in love with my best friend, and he was supportive in whatever I wanted to do for myself. I joined a gym and woke up at 3am every day to get my two hour workout in before getting the kids ready for school, I got myself back down to 240, and then I hit another wall, when my boyfriend admitted to cheating on me. It almost destroyed me and definitely destroyed my sense of self and any desire to improve myself. We worked through it, it's been rough, but every day I'm happy we have.
4 months ago, I braved the scale again. I was back up to 263. I knew I wanted to change, but this time was different. I just woke up one morning and I had no desire for the sugary, fatty foods I normally ate. I didn't want it anymore. It was weird, but I was over it. I talked about a new way of eating with my boyfriend, and he jumped on board. It's much easier to eat healthier when you don't have to make seperate meals for everyone. I immediately stopped drinking sodas and energy drinks and only drink water now. I started taking phentermine and joined another gym. This one with childcare, so I didn't have to wake up at 3am just to work out. The phentermine helped for the first month or two, to curb my appetite and give me a little energy. It stopped working though. I've had a few set backs with sugar cravings, but I've managed to handle them well by drinking water whenever I have a craving. I'm using many different fitness apps. Exercise apps, calorie and step trackers, and having the support of my boyfriend has been great.
So far, I have managed to lose 29 pounds in the last 4 months. I know it's not a lot, but it's something. I don't feel smaller, but I've changed pant sizes. my goals change all the time. I have a love/hate relationship with the scale. I tell myself I am not going to check it, but I still do...daily. It can be discouraging, but I have to remind myself that weight fluctuates all the time and it's never the same even from hour to hour, let alone day to day. I thought measuring myself would be better, which it is...a little. Those measurements can fluctuate too, as you put on muscle and maybe you lose in an area that you are not measuring. It's a big roller coaster of emotion and progress always seems so far away. But I am determined not to give up this time. I'm back to the same weight I was when I first got pregnant with my son 13 years ago, so that's something. My goal is 150, but that's just a number. I want to go until I feel like I look on the inside. I don't want to be a model or tiny. I don't want to see my ribs or my hip bones. Real women come in all different shapes and sizes, it's how you SEE yourself that matters. One person's 150 does not match another, and I realize that I may never be 36-24-36, but I'm going to have fun trying.
Progress as of today: 62 lbs lost so far, only 84 lbs to go!