Stale. Stuck. Scared. Apathetic . Failure.
These are all the things I have been feeling lately about my lack of weight loss and fitness. And life in general for that matter, which of course is a direct result of feeling like a big fat blob that has zero motivation or willpower to do anything about it.
Fresh starts are good. I think that is what I need. I hope that is what I need.
I have always had a weight problem. Ever since I emerged from my mothers womb. Mom loves to tell the story of how I could barely open my eyes because my cheeks were so full and fat. Also, how she and my father were afraid I wouldn’t be able to walk due to the excessive amount of leg chub I had. (I still have that!) To be fair, the odds were stacked against me in the genetics department as both my parents and most our extended family also had weight issues.
I have yo yo dieted with the best of them. You name the diet or fad and I have tried it, even if only for a day or so.
Spending every single second of every day freaking out about everything I put in my mouth. I also exercised obsessively. Cardio three times a day while following a 1200 calorie diet worked really well but made me a little nutty in my head. Also, I was unemployed and had time to do all that exercise as well as counting and recounting calories all day long.
Gallstones worked really well for me as well. I couldn’t eat an ounce of fat or I would have a gallbladder attack. Anyone who has ever had one of those, knows how painful it is and why you would avoid it at all costs. I lived on cereal and fat free milk for two months until I could get my surgery and lost about 25 pounds. Of course once that little sucker was out of my body, I made up for those two months by eating double of what I would have eaten sans stones, and gained it all back.
Low carb works. I know that because I did it for two years straight and lost 80 pounds. That is how I lost the bulk of my weight after topping off at a size 30/5x. It really does. However, once I went off for one little cheat, I could NOT reign it back in. I realize that is my problem and not anyone elses. I have tried it again and again over the years and it still works, however due to a serious case of diverticulitis I can not longer continue on that way of eating. In order to make the diet have a good variety for me I need to use almond flour/nuts and a heavy hand of veggies that my stomach can no longer tolerate…possibly because of:
Bulimia with a side of laxative addiction…now that one really worked! Got me down to a size 8. It also got me $25,000 worth of ongoing dental work, a f*cked up esophagus and stomach problems that still plague me twenty years later.
In the end it turns out that a healthy balance of working out and eating healthy can really do the trick. Who knew?
My last venture into the weight loss lifestyle had me down into a weight where I was comfortable. Not thin by any stretch of the imagination, but I was happy with how I felt and looked in a size 18. That was when I was training for my 1st ½ marathon. I felt good and I looked good, at least in my opinion. I was terrified of the marathon so I trained really hard. I lost a bunch of weight and my mood was super improved by the running and exercise. I didn’t even have to diet that strictly, just make better choices. However, once I ran the marathon and realized that I could really just walk the whole thing the next time and not kill myself with training…well you can guess what happened. I did four half marathons in five years, the last one I didn’t even bother to train for and nearly wrecked myself. The fun of running marathons had lost its shine and I basically haven’t really worked out since.
I have been eating whatever I want and not working out for quite some time now. I feel like a sloth. I have gained a lot of weight, yet have zero motivation to do anything about it.
My aha moment started at our company Christmas party this year. I had been fairly successful at avoiding the camera for a while now. Aside from vacation shots where I would pose and or hide behind someone to camouflage myself. Well, during the White Elephant gift exchange my friend grabbed my phone and snapped some shots of me opening my present. When I uploaded all the pics from the party I was horrified with what I saw. I am dangerously close to getting back up to my highest weight. The weight where my husband had to tie my shoes for me. The weight where I was on the cusp of not being able to take care of myself hygienically. This was frightening.
Moreover, I need to address the depression that has gripped me in the past year and hasn’t let me go. It might even have extended longer than a year, but who can tell anymore. I am unhappy. I am fat. I am showing all the classic symptoms of sleep apnea. I am out of breath after walking a block and my back is hurting ALL THE TIME from supporting the girth of my belly.
I no longer want to do the things that used to bring me joy. Theater, exercise, hanging out with friends…that last one is really key. I don’t want people to see how huge I have gotten. You can call it stupid, but it’s true. I don’t want to see anyone I haven’t seen in a year or so because they are going to see how far I’ve let myself spiral out of control. I’m just not happy with myself.
So here I am, putting myself out there. I don’t have much of a plan. I only have a glimmer of hope that I might be able to drag myself up from this mire of self hate and basically self mutilation. I want to feel free again.