Wednesday, October 10, 2007
I used to be a skinny girl. I was always thin and athletic. I never cared what I ate or even how often I ate. I had a boundless level of energy. During high school, I got involved in a serious relationship and had some orthopaedic problems that prevented me from being as physically active as I used to be. And very slowly the pounds began to emerge. I gained 15 pounds from freshman year to junior year and by the end of my junior year, I swore I was fat. Body image is an interesting concept and something that's different for everyone. My mother has a very warped sense of body image and I blame some of my current state on her. To her, everyone needs to be extremely thin, and those who are show it off. When I was younger, she bought very tight fitting clothing for me. Not innapproriately so, but enough to show up my curves. I am also a former gymnast, and I still coach. If running around nearly naked doesn't create an odd body image, I don't know what does. So, at 16, I began my first venture into dieting. I was by no means fat. At 165lb, 5'8" tall and athletic, I looked wonderful. But when I sat down, my skin folded over. So I began bringing slim fast for lunch. But I would be starving and drink it before lunch and then scarf everyone else's lunch. And after school, I'd stop somewhere and get junk food. And then I'd go home and eat a really carb laden meal. By the time I graduated high school, I was up 20lbs. I still thought that I looked good and looking back now, I wore clothing that definately was not flattering. But I got into another relationship and I was working two jobs and getting ready to head off to college so things were chaotic. My rationale was that when I got to college, I would get back into sports and really work hard to get back to where I was in high school. Through each serious attempt, I always realized that the last weight I was was OK, but it was always too late. It wasn't as easy as I thought it was going to be, too much pressure, college food sucks, I was coming home on weekends to see my boyfriend and there was no good food around. I failed. Failure number two. But I knew after my freshman year of college, I was moving home and I would fix everything....it took me two years to really decide to change anything. At that point, I was over 200lbs. My boyfriend and I had broken up and I was determined to change myself so that I could get back into the game. So I started the Change One program by Reader's Digest. You change one thing a week for twelve weeks and at the end, you have a new lifestyle. I made it to week 8, lost 15 lbs, but got back together with the boyfriend. That was the end of that, and back on the road to fatness. I'm definately not blaming my relationship on my weight, but it's funny how once you get comfortable with someone or get into a pattern, things just magically change and it's just not as important how you once looked or what the other person thinks of your weird eating habits. And I did marry that person so obviously, he's watched me "grow" and he still loves me ( depending on what day of the week it is). About a year after that and twenty more pounds, I was sick and tired of feeling uncomfortable and unattractive. I think I have potential to be a really pretty woman, but I was wasting it. So I joined a gym that offered a special diet program and I paid serious money for a 16 week program. I lost 25 lbs and looked good....still had work to do but it was a start. But the program was unmanageable and trying to adjust my regular lifestyle to this one wasn't cutting it. And going to the gym had lost it's thrill. I thought that I'd be able to just maintain that weight loss and that would be enough. But sure enough, I got lazy and life got busy and I messed up again. Being a social worker, I know a lot about addictions and mental health and all that stuff and I still can not figure out why I can not follow through or when I do really well, why I allow myself to sabotage something. It's not like I get to a point and say, screw it, I want to be fat. So last year, with less than a year to my wedding, I wandered into LA Weightloss ( now PURE Weightloss) and said fix it, because this time, I'm ready. And I started out great. I lost 9 lbs and 12 inches in the first month. And it was easy. I stopped taking my birth control and another medication because weight gains were side effects. And I figured, this time I've really got it under control. I'm going to be a beautiful bride and a hottie when I'm in Hawaii. And I did good for 3 months. But then my period stopped and the weight poured on, despite eating right. So I gave up. And I didn't get my period for most of the last year. And I had a bunch of sport injuries and a lot of events and I went over board. I stopped cooking, doing mostly eating out or snacking on crap. And here I am a year later, and 30 pounds heavier than I was last year and I just want to die. I figured when I got to this point, I'd just lose weight, really make a decision. But I still can't seem to wrap myself around it. I just don't want to put in the effort. I'm afraid I'm going to fail, I'm afraid I won't be able to lose the 100lbs it would take to not look like an elephant. I went to a doctor who specializes in weight loss and he prescribed Meridia for me. I've been taking it for about a month, just had a weigh in today and I'm down three pounds. But I always rationalize things....I told the doctor today " Well I'm going to get my period next month and I'm a big menstrual gainer". I didn't tell him that I planned on eating garbage all day long because I knew my weigh in wasn't going to be. I didn't tell him that I had steak tips instead of salad the night before. And I told him that I was making not the best decisions because of work. In less than two weeks, I'm scheduled to have knee surgery because my dumb ass to a shitter in a dance class last year in last years attempt not to be a blimp. I had hoped to be smaller, to facilitate healing and not stress out my repaired knee due to my size. But that didn't motivate me enough. And I've been able to use it as my most recent excuse as to why I'm not really trying to lose weight. Why join the gym when I won't be able to walk. I don't feel like I have a safe place to discuss how much my weight hurts me or how much a struggle this is for me to lose weight. But I need to do this. I hate myself. I hate everything about me....and that's no way to live. And I may never share this blog with anyone for fear of how I'll be judged. But I'm hoping at some point, I'll feel safe to share my true feelings.