So, in my first post I welcomed you. What I couldn't say was that I hope you would be entertained. I like to be witty, but the topics I intend to discuss aren't typically funny. And I'm not that creative. Tonight, I'm discussing my fatness. Lucky you!
I became fat when I was 4. Kids would tease me and I never felt accepted. I look back and it seemed like I had a lot of friends, but to me they always felt vicarious. I remember asking a girl in my class if she would be my friend. I really felt alone. I was one of those desperate people and went to great lengths to try to make friends. In the dead of winter, in Saskatoon, I would walk from my house, past the school to a girl's house just to walk with her on her way to school.
I never felt accepted in my family either. My dad was fat and my mom was a serial Weight Watcher joiner. She never seemed to get where she wanted to go. For a long time I avoided anything WW because of it. Although, I seem to have gotten over it because I joined WW online last month and I quite enjoy it. Anyway, my dad would always tell me that I should lose some weight and that I should not eat whatever I was eating. Of course it was his empty wrappers that I saw and made me feel left out. My mom sent me to a nutritionist when I was 11. That's all fine and dandy, but what 11 year old is entirely responsible for the food they eat?!?!? I was not cooking my own meals! I definitely learned that this was my problem and no one was going to help me with it.
I was severely allergic as a kid, so I spent a lot of time at doctor's offices. At 10 years old, a doctor told me not to gain any weight until I was 13. Instead, I more than doubled and went from 85 to 180 with the last 30 lbs put on in one summer when I moved across the country. Can you say "Stress Eater"? High School I got up to 220, and hated every pound of it. During my 7 years of university I got up to 275. Even when I didn't have any money to buy food, I still didn't really lose any weight.
During all this time, I never dieted. I would have moments when I would try to stop myself from eating so much. Literally moments. I would forget as soon as something interesting was in front of me. I would have times where I would be active. But after I would miss one session in my plan, I usually gave up. Something inside of me told me to stay away from "Lose 10 lbs in your first month!"
I Hovered around that 275 mark until my husband and I did a diet together in 2002. I lost almost 50 lbs and felt amazing! A co-worker asked if I had a sister because he didn't recognize me. I was still 228lbs, but that didn't matter. I was maintaining the weight loss.
I got pregnant. The sad part about it is that I used the pregnancy as an excuse to eat whatever I wanted. I gained over 80lbs in less than 9 months. After 3 pregnancies, I think my body does tend to gain more, but I also lose a good portion of it very quickly. 2 weeks after my first, I was down to 250. I never got back to 228. The lowest I got to was 245 when I got pregnant again. 4 years later, I didn't gain as much with my 3rd but I started out at 290. I got to 313. Again, 2 weeks later I was back down to 298.
More and more, my size is becoming an issue. I don't fit into many places that I have always fit. At restaurants, I want to sit in a chair instead of a booth. My dining room chairs dig into my thighs and leave marks. I can't drive my husband's truck because my belly is too big for my feet to reach the pedals. I'm at the top of the sizes in the plus size stores.
What I have recently come to realize is that whether for good or bad, weight, food and body image will always be in the forefront of my mind. Everything I do or don't do will be catalogued by my brain and stored to either encourage me or depress me. My past behaviour has been to give up as soon as I make a bad choice saying "I already blew it. I might as well keep going." and eat the entire package or stop exercising all together. Well, I hope that from now on, I will pick myself up and actually keep going in the right direction.
Last month I joined Weight Watchers. This is officially my 2nd time. The first was 2 years ago and I never really followed the program, but went because a friend invited me. I quit after 5 weeks. This time, 5 weeks have not even passed yet. I joined on June 23, 2009. Yet this is different. I have fallen off the wagon. I have fallen hard. But, today I got back on. I tracked my food and didn't even lie. I am keeping myself accountable. That's a first. I try to remind myself that I could be making worse choices and going even higher on the scale. And so the accountability and the frustrating bouncing of the scale is my current situation. For now, this is what progress looks like.
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