You Must Do...

My favorite quote in the world comes from Eleanor Roosevelt:  "You must do the thing you think you cannot do."

I'm forcing myself to post tonight precisely because I don't want to.  I don't want to post again saying that I had another failure of a day and that I honestly do not know how to dig myself out of this hole.  I'm so exhausted from fighting and thinking about it that I don't even know what else to say.  When does it get to the point where I stop thinking so much and just do?

I'm a scrapbooker and there's a class out there called "One Little Word".  I don't know anything about it really other than the idea is you have one word for the new year.  One word to describe your hopes and dreams for the upcoming year.  This got me to thinking.  If I could choose just one word to encompass all that I desire for my life, what would it be?  I decided on "peace".  Peace with my body.  Peace with food.  Peace with my finances.  Peace in all my relationships.  Peace with my job.  Peace with my surroundings.  Peace with my current place in life at right this moment.  That's all I want.  Peace.  I don't want constant insanity flowing through my mind.  I feel so out of control.  I feel so much like I've just let life pass me by.  My youth is fading fast.  I don't want to lose another minute.

So I have to start now.  But...how? 

The Holidays

I live in a house with 3 other adults and a 2 year old.  And it's December.  Which in my family means food and lots of it.  Christmas cookies, Christmas cakes and candies.  Thick, heavy soups and stews and meats.  Add to that my constant weening motivation and you have a Holiday Recipe for DISASTER. 

I don't know how, but despite two weeks of gaining, I'm not giving up.  It feels like such a joke to even type those words:  I'm not giving up.  The truth is, I feel like I have already.  And I did think to myself for about ten seconds this afternoon, "It's time to surrender.  You can try again after the holidays are over."

I don't know how to convey to anyone this hold that food has on me.  How it pulls me into it's embrace and won't let go no matter how hard I kick and scream and beg.  I do beg.  I beg on a daily basis to be free of its grip.  I wonder often why this is the battle I was given in my life.  I mourn for the years I've lost.  I've let them flit by as I have just wafted through this little life of mine, never really seizing anything - never really feeling like I'm living.  Always feeling that I'm somehow less than human because of my size.  That when references are made to "women", I'm not among those counted.

So, while I don't know how to get through the holidays without gaining, let alone while actually losing...some part of me doesn't know how to let it all go either and to throw in the towel.  Tomorrow is a new day.  And the next another new day.  And the next and the next after that. 

Oh Wow, Oh Wow, Oh Wow!

I have been super MIA for over a month, haven't I?

Well, just a few little updates:
*I'm still attending my WW meetings weekly.
*I am struggling BIG time.
*I am almost back to my WW starting weight.
*This week will be my 16th meeting and thus will be time for a persistence award.  I'm dreading this meeting because I know the leader will ask me if I mind sharing how much I've lost...

It's ridiculous that someone my size will have lost almost nothing in 16 weeks.  But let's be honest - I haven't been consistent:  I haven't stayed on plan, I haven't tracked, I haven't worked out like I should be.  I don't know why I can't muster up the strength, courage, and motivation to do this.  It's frustrating and scary.  And for some reason I'm terrified of committing myself to it. 

That's really all I have to say for today.  Meanwhile, I will still keep trudging along.  My big goal for this week has been to track everything I eat, no matter how ugly it might be.  And I have stuck to that.  And it has been pretty ugly. 

More On Fear

There is a wonderful podcast out there called "Yell at Your Fat".  Sadly, the hostess quit doing podcasts about 3 years ago, but I continually hold out hope she'll start up again.  I know it's a falst hope.  I'm not really sure why she stopped.  She's on my Facebook, so I know she's still out there bustin' a move.  She always posts race pictures, so it's not from falling off the wagon...but I digress...

This podcast was so vital in a previous weight loss effort several years ago.  I've put off listening to them again knowing it would only depress me, because I loved it so much and didn't want to get all addicted to it again knowing there would only be a handful of episodes.  But I bit the bullet and started listening again anyway while working out and on my drives to and from work.

There was something Wendy said in the second episode that really hit home with me.  She was talking about starting.  Just start.  Take the step off the platform and trust that it will work and it will.  And as she said these words I could feel myself taking a step and freefalling.  Freefalling and letting go of all the anxiety and worry and stress and concern that is associated with my weight and the loss there of. 

I think I've said it here before, but this is my last time joining Weight Watchers.  And what I mean by that is I'm not giving up.  I don't care if I lose one pound every year for the rest of my life.  I don't care if I gain a pound every year for the rest of my life.  I am not giving up.  Am I going to screw up?  Hell yes.  Are there going to be days I want to consume and maybe succeed in consuming an entire cake?  Yes.  Does that mean I need to allow out of control behaviors send me spiraling out of control?  No.  I pick myself up, dust myself off, and carry on.

And that's what I've been doing for the past two months. 

My weight loss is insignificant.  I think I've lost 7 pounds since I started.  I weight over 300 lbs.  Obviously I'm not doing something I should be.  I'll have several days where I do just great and then I'll have several more where my eating isn't where it should be.  That's putting it nicely.  It's a rollercoaster.  I thought about this quite a bit yesterday.  Why can't I be consistent.  Why can't I stop this crazy eating.

This is what I came up with.  A lot of times, my binge eating episodes occur on my way home from work.  There are a few reasons why:  I am usually hungry around this time.  But more importantly, there is a lot of anxiety and fear mixed up with that.  I have this crazy fear of being hungry and of having unsatisfied food cravings.  This is my thought process:  "What if I go home, having not eaten something completely fat and calorie laden and I eat dinner and that's all I have for the entire night?"

I mean, really?

What if I just have dinner and nothing else?  That thought sends me into a panic where I want to stuff unholy garbage in my face? 

Here's what I have not solved:  Why?  Why does this "fear", this thought send me in a tailspin?  I'll be keeping this very much in the forefront of my mind this week and especially over the weekend and let you know what I find out.

Planning Is EVERYTHING

I've been going to the gym before work in the mornings since last week. I really enjoy it. I've only been walking on the treadmill and not doing anything totally crazy, but this is still huge for me. Here's why:

1. I have to get up before 5 AM to get there. I live an hour away from work, and have to be at work by 7:40. I like sleep.

2. I'm incredibly self conscious anyway, but especially about exercising in front of other people.

So the fact that I'm getting my butt out of bed to get to the gym in the morning and liking it is something I'm pretty pleased about.

Today I got up at my usual time, got dressed for the gym, made my breakfast, ate it and realized: "Today is picture day. I've nothing to wear. I must iron.". (I am an elementary teacher). So I had to iron something suitable for photos.

Now, last week, I was a rock star. I was preplanning my day the night before, making sure my clothes were ready, packing my lunch (something else I left to this morning), even considering how I'd be wearing my hair and what work that entailed.

By not planning I cost myself my morning workout. I cost myself that little smidge more fitness, more energy, a less achy body, and getting closer to my goal that much faster.

I did squeeze in a super brief at home exercising session, but the gym would have been better: A longer workout, a consistent schedule, and that boost to my confidence I get every time I leave having completed my little treadmill workout.

Tonight is my Weight Watchers meeting. I hope to be back soon with my thoughts on how that went and on this week's topic.

Reflections on This Week's Weight Watcher Topic

So this week's topic was:  Commit to the Countdown to Thanksgiving Challenge.  There are 8 weeks until that glorious event (for those of us in the US). 

Halloween through New Year's is for me, like a lot of people, a really difficult time as far as staying on the health train is concerned.  There is SO much temptation.  It's also the cooler weather, so something in me says "store up for the winter" like I need to add any more insulation. 

I think a lot of that comes from the feeling of nostalgia from my childhood relating to this time of year.  Halloween candy while watching "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown"; Thanksgiving Day leftovers while watching the first televised Christmas movie of the season; hot chocolate while driving around looking at Christmas lights; rich, calorie ladden restaurant meals while out on a gift shopping excursion...and so the list goes on.  Something inside of me says:  Holiday Time = Celebrate by Gorging Time.  I'm sure many people out there can relate.

Everything, everything, everything in my life I can tie back to food.  Food is such a simple thing, really, when you think about it.  It's fuel for our bodies.  I suppose from an evolutionary stand point, we have tastebuds so that we can tell whether or not a food is "good", as in "not rotten", and to spur us to eat so we don't starve to death.  Kind of like why sex is enjoyable: to get species to procreate so they don't die out.  But there are consequences for indulging indiscriminately in either realm.

In any event, there are only 8 short weeks until the holiday season is fully underway here in the States.  I need a plan.

Over the next 8 weeks, I plan to:

*Workout at least 3 to 5 days a week for 30 minutes or more each time.
*Drink my 6-8 glasses of water daily.
*Track every little morsel I consume (except for two days....coming up)
*Include a weekly holiday-related treat in my plans.  But the key word here is PLAN.
*I will not track on Thanksgiving or Christmas Day.  I will enjoy myself and eat what I like, but I will not eat to misery and I will use sound judgement about what I consume.  I will still drink my 6-8 glasses of water on these days and will get up early to get some exercise into my day beforehand.

I feel like this is a sound, reasonable, and healthy plan that will work for me and not cause me to go beserk because I am depriving myself.

One thing that stuck with me from the meeting was...if you lose 1/2 a pound every week for the next 8 weeks, that's 4 pounds.  If you lose 1 pound every week for the next 8 weeks, that's 8 pounds.  And if you lose 2 pounds every week for the next 8 weeks, that's 16 pounds.

Considering the amount of weight I have to lose, I think 16 pounds is pretty darn reasonable over the next 8 weeks.  It won't be easy and I'm sure there are times that I will want to slowly gnaw off my left arm, but I want to see this through and stay on plan and see what happens.  My goal is 10 pounds down by Thanksgiving, just so I don't set myself up for failure.  Anything more than that is a bonus.  I can totally do this.

What I'm Doing Right...

There have to be somethings I've been doing right and well over the past two weeks of doing not great.  So here they are:

1.  Attending my weekly Weight Watchers meeting.  It gives me something to look forward to.  A co-worker just started going with me this week, so I think that's going to be a real help for me. 

2.  Not slipping back into my regular soda habit.  I know diet soda is TERRIBLE for me too and loaded with chemicals of death.  I do realize this.  However, it's free of calories and for now I will continue to drink it and hope that I can gradually ween myself off of it.  Baby steps, people.  Baby steps.

3.  Last weekend, I started planning dinners for the week.  This was a super idea and really helped me (and the whole family) have something healthy and tasty to eat for dinner every night.  I planned them again for this week and so far, so good.

4.  Staying the Course.  Every morning, I wake up and declare a fresh start.*  If I screw this day up, then tomorrow is a fresh, clean one with no mistakes in it yet.  Thank you, Anne Shirley.

*I'm working on getting to the point where I screw up and immediately tell myself, I'm back ontrack right this second!  This does not work very well for me yet.

5.  Holding onto hope and the belief that while it may take me the rest of my life, I will lose this weight, get to my goal, and not put weight back on. 


My goals for the remainder of this week:
*Drink 6-8 glasses of water everyday.
*Get at least 3 30 minute (or more) workouts in before next Tuesday.
*Track, track, track, track, track.  Every single little morsel that I consume.
*Plan ahead.  I know I'm going out Friday night, so I will work anything I eat or drink into my weekly points.

A Gym-Related Observation

A couple of weeks ago, I was on the treadmill at the gym and after I got off, I went and got the little spray bottle and rag to wipe it down.  Mind you I'd barely touched it and I certainly wasn't showering sweat everywhere. 

An older man was on a bike a couple of machines down from me, saw me get said wipe down supplies, saw me wipe the machine down, and got off his own machine, left it and got on another one, leaving his nasty, grungy, putrid stenchy sweat streaks all over the seat. 

WTF?

Gross.

Note to Self:  ALWAYS wipe down the machines BEFORE use. 

I Have Not Forgotten You...

I'm still here....

Floating around inside my head somewhere....

You see, the past few weeks have been incredibly unsuccessful.  But I refuse to quit.  Quitting to me would mean:  giving up hope.  So, while I have been eating pretty much anything I see and I haven't worked out in a week, I still have not given up hope.

I'm still going to my Weight Watchers meetings.  Last week I had a gain.  I fully expect to see a gain this week too, but I'm still going. 

I wish I could just throw away all the things holding me back...this fear of failure (or success?)  Whenever I think about going to the gym, I get the worst anxiety.  I need to be there.  Anyone who looks at me can see that. 

But...

I'm terrified of people looking at me, terrified of the thoughts going on inside their head to see this 330 lb woman on the treadmill doing her 30 minutes, getting off and going home.  I'm terrified of people's laughter or comments.  I feel like I'm in a constant cringe state.

Someday I'll be brave enough to show my face on here.  Someday I'll post a full body shot.  But right now, I'm too scared.  Too scared of the comments.  Too scared of someone recognizing me and realizing the number that goes with the person. 

I think I am going to start taking a weekly photograph.  Every Tuesday, a photograph of my progress (or lack thereof).  Tuesdays since that's my WW weigh in day. 

For now, dear readers, if you are still out there, that is all.

A Collection of Ramblings From the Events of This Week

Revelation and All Around General PSA from Saturday:  one piece of cake that I have preplanned for does not equal the unraveling of a week's worth of hard work and focus.  Who knew???

Thoughts on Walking from Sunday:  For some reason, over my years of fatitude...whenever I would go on a walk, I'd make sure never to walk along the same stretch of road twice.  This is so crazy to me now.  I know what my little self-consciou brain was thinking too.  A random shuffling of the following loop:  "people will wonder what I'm up to; they'll think I'm weird; they'll notice that I'm fat (that's the BEST one!)."  I honestly thought everyone was sitting in their windows waiting for me to pass by.

Now I'm older, slightly wiser, minusculely less self-conscious, and an inch saner.  In fact, on my walk Sunday, a car drove by and I didn't divert my attenion.  I instead met their eye (of course, i was wearing sunglasses...) and even did that little hand raise, half ass wave.  I then got shy and looked away before I could see if it was reciprocated...but...I still felt pretty damn brave.

Notes on my Weigh-In and Weight Watchers Meeting From Tuesday:  I was down 4.4 pounds.  At 331.4.  I think I originally said my weight last week was 335.5...that was incorrect.  It was 335.8.  Let it be noted here that as I typed 331.4, I automatically always type my weight as 1__._.  I always put that 1 in the hundreds place for some reason.  Probably because I can't imagine how in the world I got to this place that I'm at.  Now back to my weigh-in.  I was really disappointed.  Silly, huh?  4.4 pounds is actually really good and very reasonable for a first week.  I had really hoped to be back in the 20s, I guess.  Additionally, it just made me realize how much weight I have to lose and how far I have to go.  But I keep trying to tell myself, that no matter what, time is still going to pass.  I might as well pass it losing instead of gaining or staying stagnant.  That's all I really have to say about that.

The meeting topic was about incorporating more movement into your day.  I really haven't gotten back on the workout bandwagon yet.  I know it's coming, but I'm just not ready.  A big part of that is that I just started back to work this past week (I'm a teacher) and I'm trying to get into the groove of that.  I don't want to have unreasonable expectations for myself, because unreasonable expectations begets failure if past experience is any indicator.

However, I had already been doing one of the biggest things they suggested.  Parking further away to get even just a few more steps in, because those steps really do add up.  So I will continue to focus on that this week.

Some Words About Today:  As far as healthy eating and habits go, today pretty much sucked.  It wasn't the worst it could have been, but I ate way too much.  I did count all my points and didn't go over my weekly allowance, so there is that, which is a HUGE plus.  I felt very out of control.  No...very is not the right word.  Very out of control means entire containers of sweets and other such atrocities.  I just didn't do as well as I should have.  But I can't dwell on it, because just like unreasonable expections, dwelling begets failure.  So, having recognized that I was eating for all the wrong reasons - work stress, worrying about my grandmother, and so on, I formulated a plan for the future when I find myself eating things I know probably aren't the best choice or find myself eating when I'm really not hungry or find myself wanting to overeat. 

I will stop and ask myself:  Why do I want to eat this?  How will I feel after I eat this?  Is there a healthier alternative I could eat instead?  Is eating this worth the Points Plus I'll spend and/or worth feeling bad about it immediately after?  I think it's a good plan.  We'll give it a whirl the next couple of days, because I'm sure I'll find myself feeling pretty challenged with all the stuff that's going on over the next two weeks. 

And on that note, I'll leave you with this, my favorite quote (I even made it into a wall hanging for my bedroom):  "You must do the thing you think you cannot do."  - Eleanor Roosevelt.

What I Ate Yesterday and What I've Thought About Today

My official weigh in weight yesterday:  335.8 pounds.  I didn't cry.  I didn't scream.  I didn't even feel nauseated over it.  If anything, I felt numb.  But mostly, I think it didn't bother me as much, because I'm tired.  I'm tired of the weight and I'm READY.  Ready for it to go away and never come back.

At 335.8, I am entitled to 51 daily points in addition to my 49 weekly points.  I planned ahead Monday night and I stuck to it.

Now, the reason I'm talking about what I ate yesterday and not what I ate today is completely superficial - I took photographs of almost all my food yesterday.  And I feel like I need to share those with you.  But please forgive my addiction to Instagram.

Breakfast:  9 Points Plus

1 serving old fashioned oatmeal cooked in water
1 tbsp reduced fat peanut butter
1 tsp brown sugar
1 cup coffee
1/2 cup 2% milk

Oatmeal 1 tsp brown sugar, 1 tbsp reduced fat = oatmeal that tastes like a cookie.  So good!

I'm sure you can't tell from the AMAZING quality of these photos, but I am not a professional photographer.  And yes, that is Mickey Mouse gracing the front of my coffee mug.

Lunch:

2 cups romaine lettuce
1/4 cup red onion
1/4 cup bell pepper
1/4 cup garlic hummus
1/2 avocado
LARGE unsweetened McDonald's Iced Tea (they have the BEST iced tea!!!)

The iced tea of champions!

Snack:

1 Kim's Magic Pop
2 tbsp Nutella

Dinner:

Weight Watchers Crusted Honey Mustard Chicken
mashed potatoes
carrots

NOT the best picture in the world, admittedly, but the chicken was delish!

Today was equally good, my friends.  I'm feeling so motivated, so in control, like I can do anything.  We had a work "retreat" today that started after lunch.  In the past, I probably would have grabbed some fast food and eaten it on the way or once I arrived.  Not today.  I made myself a big salad with light sour cream, homemade guacamole, salsa, and lots of veggies.  I didn't touch (and didn't want) any of the chocolate or party mix that was sitting on our table.  I had originally intended to stay for the dinner, but ended up leaving beforehand and making myself a vegetarian buritto with more veggies for dinner.  And I finished it all off with a chocolate frozen yogurt from Braum's (omg!  can't believe how good that was).  And for the first time, in a long time, I can honestly, honestly say there is not one thing in the past 3 days that I have eaten that I have been ashamed of. 

And I'm also noticing that I really, really want to start moving again.  And right now, it's just a matter of working it into my day.

So, tomorrow's another day.  Lunch is provided at work, so wish me luck! 

What I've Been Up To...

I'm feeling very tired tonight, but feeling like I need to say something.  Anything.  So, here I am and hopefully the words will come to me in some form.

First, a confession:  Couch to 5K and I did not meet up on Saturday.  I didn't even put on those old, rundown running shoes.  However, I did go for a walk.  A brief one, but a walk, all the same.  And I wore my flip flops.

I think I reached a breaking point sitting in IHOP Saturday night.  I can't believe how incredibly uncomfortable I felt in my own skin.  And that feeling was very strong.   It's the kind of feeling you get before something big happens.  It was a scary feeling and a huge relief.  But I wasn't there just yet. 

Aftera couple of days of being a horribly irritable and ridiculously unpleasant person...due to feeling miserable, mouth pain, frustration, and just general horribleness...I mustered up some sort of courage, because I began making plans.  Plans for meals, plans for seeking some sort of counceling, plans for going back to Weight Watchers, plans for joining a gym. 

Plans. 

And today, I ate really well.  I told myself, I would try it out just for today.  And I ate things like this delicious salad.

And I rejoined Weight Watchers. 

And I filled a grocery cart full of things that would make Jillian Michaels weep from its sheer beauty.

And I made plans for tomorrow. 

And tomorrow morning, I'm going to wake up and tell myself, I can do this.  Just for today, I can do this. 

What Happens Next...

I'm feeling like tomorrow morning will be the exact moment in time when you and I become friends again, running shoes and Couch to 5K app...

I had my wisdom teeth pulled last week and I've felt like eating nothing but mashed potatoes and ice cream for the past week.  I haven't just eaten mashed potatoes and ice cream, but I've wanted to.  And in wanting to only eat those two things, I haven't wanted to eat other things, so somehow that has led me to eating things that are just there and usually "just there" in this house means "processed, salt-laden, sugar filled, and full-of-fat". 

All that has led to stepping on the scale and seeing that I have reached a weight of "Err".  Meaning I'm back over 330.  The high end of the scale is 330 pounds and my weight is an Err.  An error.  There are so many things right with how that sounds and so many things wrong with how that is.   

What Am I Afraid Of?

I’ve been plagued by this nagging feeling for a couple of years now that I’m terrified of losing weight.  To people who’ve never had a weight problem, that sounds ridiculous.  But to those of us who have (and I have spoken to and read things written by other people to this end) it’s very much a reality.

So what is it about losing weight that I’m so afraid of?

That I’ll fail.  I’ve lost and gained and lost and gained all of my adult life.  Going back to 11 or 12 years of age, I remember trying to lose weight and going on one diet or another.  So why would this time be any different?  Since the weight came back on over the past 3 years, I’ve made attempts at losing again.  I’ve probably started somewhere in the vicinity of 50 times in the past 3 years to get back on the wagon.  The most I’ve lost is maybe 15 lbs, then I throw in the towel and gain it all back and then some.  I’ve done this before.  It was hard.  It took a long time.  Doing it again overwhelms me and is daunting.

The commitment.  Weight loss is a commitment.  It’s hard work.  It takes planning, it takes time, it takes patience.  It takes self-control:  that ability to step back mentally from that giant container of ice cream and say, “I think I’ll just have one small scoop right now, instead of the entire thing in one sitting.”  I’ve never been fully able to grasp the whole “lifestyle change” concept.  I understand it.  It makes sense.  It looks good on paper.  But putting it into practice, for me, has not been fruitful.  Yet.

I’ll lose my excuse for not living.  “I can’t do that.  I’m too fat.”  It’s the refrain that plays in my mind over and over again.  Like going to a special salon for a haircut.  I’m too fat to go there, so I don’t have to.  Trying a new bar?  Forget it.  I’m too fat.  Lounging by the pool.  Oh, hahaha, don’t be silly.  I can’t do that.  I’m too fat.  The list goes on.

People will see me.  This is the biggie.  This is the one that hits the bull’s eye.  I won’t be invisible anymore.  My fat is my shield.  It keeps people at bay.  It’s my excuse for not allowing anyone to get too close.  Most of this, I know, is in my head.  Such as this list of why fat is my shield from people:  It’s the reason my girlfriend will leave me, instead of leaving me for any other reason.  My fat keeps attackers away.  My fat keeps people from wanting to get to know me.  My fat keeps new friends from asking me to go places. 

There comes a point when you have to take a risk with all things in life.  If I fail, so what?  If people see me, that’s okay.  Living life is why I’m here.  I’m ready for a change in the way I do things with food and exercise.  In the grand scheme of things, there are far more valid reasons to be afraid.

The Why

I am a completely ADD person.  I spontaneously started writing this as I flipped back and forth on my computer between my two favorite weight loss blogs, a scrapbooking workshop PDF and a chat window I have open with my girlfriend.

Friends (or folks, I hope to one day call “friends”), I have no idea what my actual weight is today.  I’m sure it’s hovering somewhere between 330 and 340 pounds.   I feel completely complacent, depressed, overwhelmed, saddened, frustrated, and angry (amongst other assorted emotions) over my weight.  No need for anyone else to beat me up over it all, I do more than enough of that on my own.  I can’t help but going back 3 ½ ish years in my mind to when I was really feeling strong and closer to my goal than ever before in my life.  And then came the great fall from atop the summit…

I was vegetarian at the time and had decided to vegan challenge myself.  I was working out 45 to 90 minutes a day.  I’d lost 89 pounds at that point in my life (I now weigh pretty much exactly, if not more, than I weighed at my highest weight when I started), I was embarking on all sorts of new, scary, and exciting experiences.  Then I did something stupid and mishandled a crate of water bottles and herniated two discs in my back. 

Now if I had really been the strong person I thought I was, I wouldn’t have let it deter me.  But it did deter me.  All I could do for close to a year was go to work, come home, eat something I didn’t really have to cook, then go to bed around 5 PM, because even sitting on the sofa was too excruciating.  As my mom very succinctly put it one day a few months into that experience, “D, I think you’re eating your pain.”  Yeah.  That’s exactly what I did.  There was the physical pain and the emotional pain that came along with all that was happening.  Now these 3 years later, I’ve become a statistic with what I affectionately (and denially, if you will allow that to be a word) refer to as my “sciatica weight”.

At the conclusion of this sob story, I could now launch into the entire history of my issues with weight and food, but I’m not going to do that right now.  If you stick with me, it’ll all come out in good time, but for now I’m going to leave it there. 

And I say all that to say this….

I’ve had it. 

I’ve had it with myself, the crap processed sugar coated deep fried salted diet I’ve been feeding my body for most of the past several years.  I don’t want it anymore. 

I don’t want to turn 40 nearing or surpassing 400 pounds. 

I don’t want to stand after a couple of hours of sitting and feel like I’m a 90 year old who has to take a few tentative steps to get going again because my body is so ravaged. 

I don’t want to dread all the times my sweet little 2 year old niece asks me to get on the floor to play with her, because it’s so awkward trying to arrange this large body in such a small space and then to get myself turned around well enough to the point where I can get back up again without the screaming pain in my knees. 

I don’t want to dread getting on an airplane to see my girlfriend in Ireland, worrying that the person next to me will complain that I’m taking up too much of their space; worrying about getting the seat belt extender out of my bag and across my lap before anyone sees what I’m doing; worrying about the searing discomfort I will feel from being crammed into a seat too small for 10+ hours. 

I don’t want to constantly fret about the state of my arms (or legs or butt or stomach) to the point where I feel like I can’t leave the house in any piece of clothing I currently own.  Or probably in any piece of clothing that exists anywhere in the world, save for a giant bed sheet fashioned into some sort of circusesque tent dress.

I don’t want to be terrified of going to a bar or nightclub with my girlfriend or friends, because I’m so worried that someone will make fun of me or call me names (oddly enough, I think bars and nightclubs are one of the only remaining places I haven’t had someone make fun of or comment on my size). 

But as much, if not more than all of those things, I don’t want to feel unworthy of living any longer.  I feel less than human.  I feel less than a woman.  I feel inconsequential. 

I have an amazing girlfriend who loves me just as I am.  I have the most incredible family a person could ask for.  I have good friends.  I have a job I love most of the time.  I have a roof over my head and a driveable car.  I am very blessed and fortunate.

But I still don’t feel like I should be allowed to be happy.  Is it the cause or a result of my weight?  I don’t know.  But I am ready to find out.