March 14, 2011
So, tonight I should be sleeping. Tomorrow morning is going to be ROUGH. My students will need to be extra entertaining so that I can keep my eyes open because every time we spring forward or fall back, my clock is messed up for a week! I don't know why if affects me so badly, but it always has. BUT, here I sit, typing away because I have all these thoughts running through my head and after my hour-long nap at 2:30, I don't feel all that tired at the moment...Now ask me again at 6:30 and I probably won't even comprehend the English language...
Something I've really been battling is my weight. It's been a battle since I was a child. For the rest of my life I will remember the day I took my Chocolate Royale Slim Fast shake out of my orange Snoopy lunch box and as I began to drink it, a boy asked me, "Why are you drinking that?" I said, "Because I need to lose weight." He said, "Oh you're just like my mom, always dieting. But you're not fat!" Sean Julian was his name, and I will remember those words forever. Now, I can see now that as a 10 year old little girl, only a little older than my own little girl, I should NEVER have had Slim Fast shakes in my lunch box. I should have had a sandwich on whole wheat bread, a piece of fruit, some cut up veggies, a yogurt maybe, but never a Slim Fast shake...So there began the battle.
Following that day I experienced it all. I had crushes on boys who told my friends, "Tell her if she loses 50 pounds I'll date her." I couldn't shop in the "5-7-9" store with my friends when we went to the mall because they didn't carry a size 18 at "5-7-9" obviously. And I wouldn't have shopped with them anyway because then they'd have known my real size! In high school, after a heartbreak caused by my first real love, I dieted, exercised to "Sweatin' to the Oldies" in my bedroom every night, spent hours on a towel in the backyard getting tan, and felt pretty good about myself after getting down to a size 14 for the first time ever. But, in no time I was back to my "normal" weight, size 18. Once we hit high school, I did OK in the boyfriend department. My weight wasn't so much of an issue for me because it seemed that the boys I liked were a little less superficial than they'd been in junior high. I had a steady boyfriend from my senior year into the first couple of years in the "real world" and weight was never an issue for me. But, through my adult life it was always there, always looming in the back of my mind, and while I tried all kinds of diets and pills and even prescriptions, I didn't want to live my life "on a diet".
Now, I have to say, my husband is an AMAZING man. He loves me for who I am and for how I look. He thinks I'm absolutely beautiful inside and out. He thinks I'm gorgeous, attractive, physically appealing, and tells me all the time. He has made it clear he loves me when I gain 50 pounds, when I lose 50 pounds, when I'm 9 months pregnant with my stomach swollen like a watermelon, and every day in between. We have had many, MANY ups and downs in our marriage, downs that were about as "down" as we could be, but never has my appearance been a factor. Quite the opposite, in fact. A serious issue has often been him not feeling that he's receiving ENOUGH attention and affection from me, especially when I'm too busy with work and kids and school. He gets angry when I criticize myself, upset when I run myself down. But, while this is wonderful, it often gives me that mental "OK" to eat whatever I want whenever I want too.
Yes, I know the sayings, "I love my kids more than I love food" and "Eat like obesity is a medical condition you have to control" along with all the other lines. I've heard it all. I've said it all! People who have never battled weight issues, who are natural thin, who have high metabolism, who don't have emotional eating disorders, or food addictions cannot fully grasp the concept. Food addiction is much like an alcohol or drug addiction. People don't WANT to feel bloated and unattractive and fat. People don't WANT to need food in order to cope with the stresses and tragedies in their lives. It's not a CHOICE. It's a battle, an every-single-day-of-your-life battle and it's not easy. It's hard and it's emotional and it's stressful and it's humiliating. It's a very personal, private issue. It's not one I'm comfortable discussing with just anyone because it is so painful and personal.
With the announcement that my brother was getting married and that I was going to be a bridesmaid I dieted. I didn't even actually "diet". I changed my life. I changed how I ate. I borrowed my future sister-in-law's elliptical, and I worked out 4-5 days a week. I counted every calorie that went into my mouth, I obsessed over recipes and finding ways to still cook the foods I loved to cook and serve my family in ways that were more healthy and lower in calories. I found the challenge of being able to have the occasional ice cream or candy bar and stay within my calorie allowance exciting. I lost 40 pounds by the wedding, 10 months later, and by the one year mark, I'd lost 52 pounds, officially. I felt better than I had in years, even though I honestly had another 100 pounds to go to reach my long-term goal. When I touched my face, I could feel bone structure I didn't know was there. When I scratched my back I felt bone and muscle that felt foreign to me. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a face I hadn't seen before. I was doing it and it felt amazing.
But, life got stressful. Marriage got rough. Work got rough. Kids were moody. Family issues arose. Money was tight. My brother wanted the elliptical back. I felt helpless and sad and emotional 24/7. I needed that one thing that made me feel better just for a little bit, and that was food. So, I ate when I wanted to eat and I ate what I wanted to eat. And I thought, "OK, I'm going to maintain." And I did. For 5 months I maintained and that was OK. Summer hit, I decided I was tired of being sad and emotional and depressed and that I needed to work on my emotional and mental health, and I did. My marriage was better than it had been in years. I was teaching summer school and earning extra money. We even took our very first family vacation and spent 5 days in Colorado. I was happier than I'd been in years. But, I gained 15 pounds in the process.
Now, 9 more months have passed, and I've gained back 25 pounds. I'm sad about it. I feel fat. I feel ugly. Since I threw out all my old clothes when I dropped down a size, now my clothes are all tight and uncomfortable, which makes me feel even worse. I don't feel that bone and muscle when I scratch my back, and in all honesty, it's more difficult to reach my whole back. When I touch my face, I don't feel that bone structure I was noticing. When I look in the mirror, I see the double-chin and the droopy, puffy face again. My husband gets angry when I call myself a sow. My daughter says, "You're not fat, Mommy," but I know she's lying. My son just says, "Sorry..." when I complain to him about how unhappy I am.
But what is going to motivate me? Inspire me? Drive me?
I haven't been to the doctor for a check-up, Pap, or pelvic in 4 years. I haven't had my blood work done, my thyroid meds monitored, my thyroid levels checked in 4 years. I don't want my doctor to see what I weigh. I don't want him to see what has happened to me. I don't want him to know I weigh more than I did when I was 9 months pregnant with my daughter. (Yes, puking all 9 months when I'm pregnant means I gained almost nothing with either pregnancy, but still...)
This is such a personal issue with me. This is such a private, personal part of me. Yet, here I am, sharing it with the world because I wonder how many other people might feel what I feel, how many people might relate to my story, how many people might be inspired just by the fact that they are not alone in this battle.
So, each day is a new day and each day is a new chance to get it right and if I did it before, I can do it again. I know that I can. I need to just find a way to prove to myself that I deserve it, that a lifetime of insecurities and feeling unworthy and unloved and unwanted cannot continue to hinder me because my husband and my children and my students and my friends deserve me at my best. And by "my best", I don't mean a size 6, fashion model bombshell. I mean ME, at my best, feeling good, feeling healthy, feeling confident, feeling strong, feeling in CONTROL.
Yes, tomorrow I'm going to come home from work, feel famished, and crave a brownie or cookies or a McDouble or onion rings and it's going to be a battle. And honestly, I don't know if I will win or lose the battle. But I know that I have to try...
Something I've really been battling is my weight. It's been a battle since I was a child. For the rest of my life I will remember the day I took my Chocolate Royale Slim Fast shake out of my orange Snoopy lunch box and as I began to drink it, a boy asked me, "Why are you drinking that?" I said, "Because I need to lose weight." He said, "Oh you're just like my mom, always dieting. But you're not fat!" Sean Julian was his name, and I will remember those words forever. Now, I can see now that as a 10 year old little girl, only a little older than my own little girl, I should NEVER have had Slim Fast shakes in my lunch box. I should have had a sandwich on whole wheat bread, a piece of fruit, some cut up veggies, a yogurt maybe, but never a Slim Fast shake...So there began the battle.
Following that day I experienced it all. I had crushes on boys who told my friends, "Tell her if she loses 50 pounds I'll date her." I couldn't shop in the "5-7-9" store with my friends when we went to the mall because they didn't carry a size 18 at "5-7-9" obviously. And I wouldn't have shopped with them anyway because then they'd have known my real size! In high school, after a heartbreak caused by my first real love, I dieted, exercised to "Sweatin' to the Oldies" in my bedroom every night, spent hours on a towel in the backyard getting tan, and felt pretty good about myself after getting down to a size 14 for the first time ever. But, in no time I was back to my "normal" weight, size 18. Once we hit high school, I did OK in the boyfriend department. My weight wasn't so much of an issue for me because it seemed that the boys I liked were a little less superficial than they'd been in junior high. I had a steady boyfriend from my senior year into the first couple of years in the "real world" and weight was never an issue for me. But, through my adult life it was always there, always looming in the back of my mind, and while I tried all kinds of diets and pills and even prescriptions, I didn't want to live my life "on a diet".
Now, I have to say, my husband is an AMAZING man. He loves me for who I am and for how I look. He thinks I'm absolutely beautiful inside and out. He thinks I'm gorgeous, attractive, physically appealing, and tells me all the time. He has made it clear he loves me when I gain 50 pounds, when I lose 50 pounds, when I'm 9 months pregnant with my stomach swollen like a watermelon, and every day in between. We have had many, MANY ups and downs in our marriage, downs that were about as "down" as we could be, but never has my appearance been a factor. Quite the opposite, in fact. A serious issue has often been him not feeling that he's receiving ENOUGH attention and affection from me, especially when I'm too busy with work and kids and school. He gets angry when I criticize myself, upset when I run myself down. But, while this is wonderful, it often gives me that mental "OK" to eat whatever I want whenever I want too.
Yes, I know the sayings, "I love my kids more than I love food" and "Eat like obesity is a medical condition you have to control" along with all the other lines. I've heard it all. I've said it all! People who have never battled weight issues, who are natural thin, who have high metabolism, who don't have emotional eating disorders, or food addictions cannot fully grasp the concept. Food addiction is much like an alcohol or drug addiction. People don't WANT to feel bloated and unattractive and fat. People don't WANT to need food in order to cope with the stresses and tragedies in their lives. It's not a CHOICE. It's a battle, an every-single-day-of-your-life battle and it's not easy. It's hard and it's emotional and it's stressful and it's humiliating. It's a very personal, private issue. It's not one I'm comfortable discussing with just anyone because it is so painful and personal.
With the announcement that my brother was getting married and that I was going to be a bridesmaid I dieted. I didn't even actually "diet". I changed my life. I changed how I ate. I borrowed my future sister-in-law's elliptical, and I worked out 4-5 days a week. I counted every calorie that went into my mouth, I obsessed over recipes and finding ways to still cook the foods I loved to cook and serve my family in ways that were more healthy and lower in calories. I found the challenge of being able to have the occasional ice cream or candy bar and stay within my calorie allowance exciting. I lost 40 pounds by the wedding, 10 months later, and by the one year mark, I'd lost 52 pounds, officially. I felt better than I had in years, even though I honestly had another 100 pounds to go to reach my long-term goal. When I touched my face, I could feel bone structure I didn't know was there. When I scratched my back I felt bone and muscle that felt foreign to me. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a face I hadn't seen before. I was doing it and it felt amazing.
But, life got stressful. Marriage got rough. Work got rough. Kids were moody. Family issues arose. Money was tight. My brother wanted the elliptical back. I felt helpless and sad and emotional 24/7. I needed that one thing that made me feel better just for a little bit, and that was food. So, I ate when I wanted to eat and I ate what I wanted to eat. And I thought, "OK, I'm going to maintain." And I did. For 5 months I maintained and that was OK. Summer hit, I decided I was tired of being sad and emotional and depressed and that I needed to work on my emotional and mental health, and I did. My marriage was better than it had been in years. I was teaching summer school and earning extra money. We even took our very first family vacation and spent 5 days in Colorado. I was happier than I'd been in years. But, I gained 15 pounds in the process.
Now, 9 more months have passed, and I've gained back 25 pounds. I'm sad about it. I feel fat. I feel ugly. Since I threw out all my old clothes when I dropped down a size, now my clothes are all tight and uncomfortable, which makes me feel even worse. I don't feel that bone and muscle when I scratch my back, and in all honesty, it's more difficult to reach my whole back. When I touch my face, I don't feel that bone structure I was noticing. When I look in the mirror, I see the double-chin and the droopy, puffy face again. My husband gets angry when I call myself a sow. My daughter says, "You're not fat, Mommy," but I know she's lying. My son just says, "Sorry..." when I complain to him about how unhappy I am.
But what is going to motivate me? Inspire me? Drive me?
I haven't been to the doctor for a check-up, Pap, or pelvic in 4 years. I haven't had my blood work done, my thyroid meds monitored, my thyroid levels checked in 4 years. I don't want my doctor to see what I weigh. I don't want him to see what has happened to me. I don't want him to know I weigh more than I did when I was 9 months pregnant with my daughter. (Yes, puking all 9 months when I'm pregnant means I gained almost nothing with either pregnancy, but still...)
This is such a personal issue with me. This is such a private, personal part of me. Yet, here I am, sharing it with the world because I wonder how many other people might feel what I feel, how many people might relate to my story, how many people might be inspired just by the fact that they are not alone in this battle.
So, each day is a new day and each day is a new chance to get it right and if I did it before, I can do it again. I know that I can. I need to just find a way to prove to myself that I deserve it, that a lifetime of insecurities and feeling unworthy and unloved and unwanted cannot continue to hinder me because my husband and my children and my students and my friends deserve me at my best. And by "my best", I don't mean a size 6, fashion model bombshell. I mean ME, at my best, feeling good, feeling healthy, feeling confident, feeling strong, feeling in CONTROL.
Yes, tomorrow I'm going to come home from work, feel famished, and crave a brownie or cookies or a McDouble or onion rings and it's going to be a battle. And honestly, I don't know if I will win or lose the battle. But I know that I have to try...
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