I became the person I used to hate…

This past Monday (August 5) my blog turned one year old. It’s hard to believe it’s been a year, but when I look back and think about it, so much has happened. I started this blog with the intent to document my journey through weight loss. At some point, I realized it was more than weight loss. It was about me, and changing who I was on the inside and out. I felt like if I only talked about losing weight, I was doing myself a disservice.

I never thought I would have people who wanted to read my blog. “You should write a blog,” she said… She said it several months before I actually did it.

What has this done for me? Well first, I’m not done with it, I think this is something I will continue to do, as time allows. I learned that I really enjoy writing, and I want to thank those of you who have read every blog (and welcome those who have never read one). I know they can be long, but you have to remember, I do this for myself, and if I can help someone else along the way, then that makes me feel amazing. I want to be able to come back in five years and read these and remember this head space, good or bad. Some of these blogs have been incredibly raw and are just purely me. Thank you for allowing me to share with you all.

Today’s primary topic is about my obsession with a number. 209. 200. 199. They all have significance to me. Until a few months ago, I never owned a scale. I never really knew my weight unless I went to the doctor. It was a fun surprise to see -30 lbs from the previous year. When Matty and I started dating, I would weigh myself on his scale, just for fun to see where I was. I never thought it would get so far into my head that I would become one of those women I hated.

I didn’t realize I had become this way until the past few weeks. I knew it, but one day I stopped and looked at myself from Matt’s point of view, and he’s so laid back and accepting, he would never say this to me, but if I were in his position, hearing the things I would say, I wouldn’t have kept quiet. In the past, Bestie has told me, “Oh, I gained two pounds,” and every time she said it, it would grate on my nerves. I hated it (and I’m sorry if I’ve never told you this before now, there’s a point to this. I love you). I always told her she was ridiculous, but having been overweight, it’s like, “really? I’ll show you two pounds, it’s called my dinner.” My former best friend used to do the same thing, holding her stomach, talking about her “pooch” and she was like a size 10. I was just like, “bitch, please, I weigh 300 pounds. I’ll show you a pooch…” So those kinds of comments used to really bother me.

I bought a scale from Bed Bath, the store run by Satan himself. I intentionally never purchased one. In the store, I literally said to myself, if you buy this are you going to become obsessed? “No, never! I’m stronger than the scale.” -_- I don’t know how much time went by but I weighed myself every other day, then every day, then every time I went in the bathroom. I would stand on the scale and if i didn’t like the number and I would get off, reset it, and do it again. It actually became a compulsion. I would say things to Matt like, “I just have 8 more pounds to lose,” or “I’m up 3 pounds,” and he never really said anything… what is he going to say to that? He’s no dummy. He knows when fire is being thrown around by me and knows when to stay away from it. This never bothered me. I never said it with intent to start crap with him or to even have a conversation. Sometimes we just say what we’re thinking and I was thinking about that a lot. My weight was/ is hovering. Im not doing anything to lose the weight, (i never have and still lost) I would just watch it, all the time. When I realized it was actually affecting me mentally, I told Matt I needed to take my scale off my bathroom floor. Even after saying it (last week), I didn’t do it. I don’t know why.

Last night I was watching Extreme Weight Loss Makeover and the girl was 22 and more than 400 pounds. She lost 100 pounds in her first three months. She mentally wasn’t ready for that. I wouldn’t have been. In her second phase (months 4, 5 and 6) she developed bulimia. She talked about being obsessed with the number, she would get on the scale, it wasn’t what she wanted to see, and she obsessed over it. She was an over eater, even with healthy food, and she thought the way to lose the weight was purge. I have never been bulimic… I think it’s wasteful, I hate throwing up, (I know, weird, but true) and I’m stronger than that, the food doesn’t control me. I know some people aren’t as strong. I’m not judging anyone. When I saw what it did to her mentally, I got off the couch, went and picked up my scale, and put it in my coat closet. I knew it was unhealthy to feel how I was feeling, but she really showed me how extreme it can get. I’ll take it out when I think I can handle it. I know it can’t be in a convenient place, or I’ll continue the cycle.

School is almost here. I’m stressing about it. I told Matt today that I was really stressing about my major and basically after talking it out with him, I felt better about it. It’s too random to be random. It’s meant to be. I won a $1,000 scholarship so I can now pay a huge chunk for summer school. The ball is officially rolling at this point. I start August 21, so we’ll see how it goes.

Thanks for a wonderful year! Here’s to may more and to celebrate, some pictures!

Pretty self explanatory. Those pants were too tight. Before and after of those are coming.

Drinking games, The one on the left was July 4 weekend the summer Bestie came home and the one on the right was Saturday night.

My friend from ages ago, Matty. We used to work at the Depot together.

Beginning the next chapter

So my last blog was really heavy. I’m sorry I’m not sorry. It’s life. We all have those days. It’s about taking something from them and learning and growing. It’s how we evolve as people. It’s what makes us stronger. Of the people I wrote about in the last blog, I know a few that have lost everything in the storm. It’s devastating to know that. I pray for their strength to move on and stay strong and rebuild. Everyone is safe and alive and that’s the most important.

It’s amazing how quickly life can change. I mean I can’t say it enough, I feel like a different person. I feel amazing. I know I have a way to go with my weight loss, but as far as emotionally and mentally, I feel the best I’ve ever felt. I’ve weeded out the negative people in my life. I have those close to me who I care for very deeply and those people mean more to me than they will ever, ever know.

Two years ago my coworker suffered a heart attack at work. Two years before that a close friend attempted suicide. These two people are two of my closest friends today and I can’t imagine life without them. It’s a wakeup call to them but also to those they know. Life will always have its terrible moments. It’s growing from that that makes life better. I learned with both of those instances that life is way too short and you need to appreciate the people you care about. Never be afraid to say I love you. If I love you, I’m going to tell you. If you make me happy, I’m going to tell you. On the other hand, if I have a problem, I’m going to tell you that also.

Those of you who know me know I don’t sugar coat very well. It’s annoying to me. I have had to say some really painful things in the past year to people I love, and I loved them in different ways; Painful to me and painful for them to hear. In one situation it helped. Not at first, but it ended up helping. In the other situation the other person was so resistant to hearing the truth they ignored it all together. I did what I could and it didn’t work. I had to walk away from that person. Don’t ignore me. I’m not wasting my words on anyone who has their hands over their ears saying “la la la la la.” No, thank you. I’m getting to a point… hang in there.

Now… this is all really important for any relationship to work. Sometimes a relationship seems so easy it really makes you think, “What’s wrong? What’s the trick?” You really question everything you’ve ever known in a relationship. You feel confused because it’s nothing like anything you’ve ever experienced before. In the past you may have been involved with someone who wanted to play the “on-my-time” game. Maybe someone didn’t want to know certain things about you. Maybe they didn’t want to know certain parts of your life like your friends, family, or career. They wanted to say it was serious but not really be serious. That’s a good way to eff with someone. Men and women both play too many games. It screws everyone up. We’re all damaged in some way, some a lot more than others. The only way to get undamaged (I know, not proper English), is to get help. Whether that’s a professional or someone you can relate to or someone who can’t relate but is a good listener. Sometimes it’s none of the above. People can come out of nowhere at times when you least expect it.

I feel like my universe is lining up. The annual Halloween Party I’ve been attending for the last four years is always an amazing time. I’ve met some great people. It’s a tradition at this point so as long as the party survives, I will attend. Four years ago I met a guy wearing a tuxedo. I kid you not. These guests go all out for Halloween. I don’t remember any conversation from that party. Time goes on. The guy in the tuxedo was a proctologist this year. I have talked to him at other parties we’ve been to, but something about the encounter in the garage struck me this year. There we were with Michael Jackson, Garth Brooks, a monster… I can’t even remember what he said, and I didn’t have any idea that I would feel the way I do today just a short week ago. Something in me felt different. It was a slow burn. He left without saying goodbye. His annual appearance was over. I’ll see him next year.

I went home and added him on Facebook. Why now after four years? For the life of me couldn’t rememberhis first name. I looked on a mutual friend’s page. There he is. I knew the last name was right… The first name seemed way off but it had to be him. Add friend. Done. A little later the friend request was confirmed. I check out his page. There’s nothing there. Buh. You don’t want to delete someone you just added because that’s jerky so you just have another empty Facebook friend. Or so you think.

*bing* A Facebook message from Mr. Tuxedo himself on Monday. “The doctor will see you now…” I knew this guy was funny so let’s see what we have. I was expecting to see everything I had seen before from other guys. Wrong. He was kind, charming, polite. I was being a total goofball thinking, “How long will he stick to his schtick?” I was just thrilled that he had messaged me. We begin texting. Then a three hour phone call. Thank God he has Verizon. After the call there was the, “I can’t believe we talked that long, I hate talking on the phone,” text. He asked me out for football and pink drinks at his favorite bar (because that totally sounds like Blaire, right?). Only because it was with the proctologist I said yes. I would have done community service with him if he asked me to. It was an unusual feeling. I had already met him several times and spent time with him at the parties. It was not a blind date where I would try to inevitably screw it all up and not end up going. I wanted to go. I wanted to see him and see what he was about. Get to know him.

I’m so glad I did. I’ve seen him every day for the last 5 days. Tomorrow will be six. The journey will be an interesting one. It’s crazy how busy two people can actually be when they start dating… well I guess that’s what I get with a social butterfly. Before him I wouldn’t want to go out. There’s so much about him that I enjoy. Using the term “us” and “we” is very strange. He’s very open and honest and my fiends like him, which is huge.

I’m not jumping to any conclusions and I’m not going to be one to air dirty or clean laundry on here. That’s not what this is for. I’m actually fairly private about friends for the most part. The purpose of me talking about him is that as my life continues to change and I continue to become the best person I know how to be, I will have experiences and feelings to share. I already feel so different. I’m a little gun shy from what happened earlier in the year, but unlike in the past, I’m not going to let that hold me back. I can’t. It’s too late now to hold back. I’ve already committed to him. Literally. =>;

I can’t wait to write this chapter in my life.

When no one can get in, no one can hurt you.

Tonight I write with a heavy heart. Watching the news, I can’t help but be overwhelmed by emotion. I know two firefighters in New York. I know several people and have several friends there. I see the devastation and put myself in those shoes. I can’t think to myself, “Oh, I’m sure they’re fine.”  No one knows that. Forty people are dead. No one has power. A city that never sleeps has been silenced. And it’s not just in NYC. We have customers up and down the Jersey Shore. I couldn’t imagine going to work one day and not seeing it there, or anything that resembles what once was. I couldn’t imagine any of this. I don’t remember feeling like this when Katrina happened. Is it because I didn’t know anyone in New Orleans? Is it because I didn’t care? Is it because I didn’t feel anything? Is it because I seem to feel everything more intensely now? Is it because I’m older and I care about people whether I know them or not?

I have another friend who suffered a great loss. I couldn’t help but cry when hearing of the premature birth of their child. Baby girl was a gift from God himself and a total miracle and she was quickly taken back to Heaven to be an angel. She had a short time with her mommy and daddy before leaving this life. There’s a reason for everything. She was so badly wanted and will be loved for all eternity. I can’t write any more about this.

I feel like I’ve become a different person this year. I realized several months ago (it may have started sooner, but I feel like everything clicked this year) that I wasn’t going to get anywhere if I kept at it the way I was going. I was damaging more than I was fixing. I easily drove people away without a care in the world. I was cold, but I thought I was warm. I cared about those close to me but for the most part I desensitized in 2006 when my ex-boyfriend and I broke up. I shut down. The easiest way to not get hurt and protect yourself is to not let anyone in. I have been hurt so many times in my life I was tired of that feeling. When no one can get in, no one can hurt you. Well people don’t like you either. I was likeable when I wanted to be but I’m sure most people really didn’t like me. I do have one of those personalities that you either like or you don’t.

In June I began to understand more about loving people and the true desire for others to be happy. I also realized one of the best things about being an adult is you can choose who you want to give your time to and who you want to spend your time with. There is someone in my life that will suck the happiness out of the room they walk into with one breath of air. I don’t want to be that person. I also don’t want to spend time with that person. That person is black and gray. They have no joy, as some would say. How do you get through life with no joy? I really don’t understand this. I never will. What makes you happy? What makes me happy? Food. My boys. My family. The color pink. Simple things. It doesn’t have to be something complicated or huge. This person has none of that. It seems as if they go through the motions of life. Why? Why not live a life worth living? This person is incapable of feeling happiness for anyone, for any reason, ever. I can’t do that. I realized I wasn’t a priority in this person’s life and I can’t keep trying to make myself a priority in someone’s life if that’s not what they want. Sometimes you just have to pick yourself up, as difficult as it is, and walk away. Some people get a lot more effort than they’re worth. I’m done. That person has caused a lot of pain to people close to me and I can’t keep hoping they will be someone they’re not. So I’m done. Another toxic person gone.

My next blog will be more upbeat. I promise.

A new look on life…

So much for trying to get on a writing schedule this month =/ I spent a lot of the month in a funk and it wasn’t until I spoke with a very dear friend that I snapped out of it.

As many of my readers know, I try to center my blog about weight loss or food or something like that. I realized that’s a little limiting and I call this my journey to being the person I am meant to be so I’m going to begin throwing in more stuff. More about me and my life, not like what I had for breakfast and my daily activity, but more my thought process on life topics.

Some of you do, but most of you don’t, know my parents got divorced this year. They were together for 31 years. It’s amicable. They don’t hate each other and sometimes I wonder if it would have been easier if they did. The whole process is unconventional and it’s been very difficult for me to deal with regardless of love or friendship or anything. The pain of your parents getting divorced is nothing you can prepare for or understand, and it feels like no other heartache you will ever feel in your life. As with most heartache it gets better with time but it’s still weird. You don’t need someone to explain the situation 46 different ways. You understand what happened. You don’t need to hear how “it’s not you, it’s me,” or “it’s better this way.” You know all of this. Your brain consciously understands and accepts what is, but your heart feels incapable.

Then when one parent moves on it feels beyond wrong. You want to go back to how things used to be because it’s comfortable. Comfortable is always easy, no matter how bad it is. Just pretend it’s not happening, don’t think about it, live in denial. Nothing works. Eat cake. Eat bread. Eat chocolate and lots of it. Eat anything and everything. It’s not getting better. Now you feel fat, you’ve gained god knows how much weight and you still feel like crap emotionally. You’re in a rut. You’re depressed. You’re spinning your wheels. You desperately try to figure it out but you can’t see through your cloud to the light.

I called to catch up with a great friend, someone who I consider a mentor, and explained to them VERY briefly what I was feeling and they knew exactly what to say. They always do. This person has always had the ability to connect with me on a really deep spiritual level from the very beginning and when you have that connection with someone, life is easier. (I have this same connection with Bestie. I’m blessed to have that connection with more than one person in my life). You can say things and even if you make no sense at all, that person understands EXACTLY what you’re saying. This friend didn’t let me go into any detail or get too far in before they interrupted me. It will probably be a moment etched in my brain for all eternity. I remember exactly where I was when this person blew away that cloud I had been trying to see through for weeks. I was going to put what they told me, but I opted not to. What’s important to share is I listened and opened my heart and because I was open to it, I felt better. I feel that with time I would have made it through that cloud but with a little bit of help I feel like my life changed. I let go. I didn’t want to carry around that hurt and the resentment and that pain. To that friend, you have taught me so much in such a short time and I am so grateful for you. You will always hold a special place in my heart and my life.

I feel as if I have a gift. I don’t know what it is. Well I do know… it’s my intuition. It’s insane. I tend to know things without being told. If I don’t know now, and the universe thinks I need to know, I will find out. I always do. What does this mean? I feel like I’m here to help others. I’m trying to figure out what my sole purpose in life is besides motherhood. I know there’s something bigger. Maybe motherhood is it but I’m not ready for any bastard, illegitimate children so until the time is right, I know there is something else.

The difference two years makes…

The Bestie finally had her wedding this past weekend. I knew several people there and most of them had this as their first impression of me.

July 2010 — Effing awful. Embarrassing.

I got to spend some time with some wonderful people. It’s amazing that the human brain remembers someone based on a certain memory. This was the memory they had of me… I had certain memories of specific people and I was apprehensive about spending time with these people based on that. It turned out to be very nice. I have changed an enormous amount over the last two years. I would hate for anyone to continue to judge me based on how I looked or acted two or more years ago, because God knows I was a walking hot mess for several years! I was just as open to seeing how the others have changed in their two years. That’s why it is so difficult to get along with some people, because they can’t move past a specific point in THEIR life to see how someone else has grown and appreciate them for who they are NOW.

The last wedding I was in was in October 2010. I was right around 275 pounds. The dress was a size 22 and it was tight. I actually really liked it from day one. The bride’s mom made us little black jackets so we could stay warm. I remember thinking there is no way I was going to wear that dress without something covering my fat arms. I was so nervous about that wedding. I was the Best Man. I was going to be in all the pictures. I knew I was the biggest one in the wedding party. I was really self conscious. I didn’t want everyone to be looking at the bride and groom and be distracted by how large I was. I hated my smile because my face was so big, my smile seemed to get lost in my cheeks. I remember thinking I didn’t want to ruin their wedding pictures. I never said anything to anyone, ever. This is the first time I’ve actually said any of this “out loud.” I didn’t even want to see myself in the pictures. You may think I sound terribly selfish right now. I beg to differ. I’m simply explaining how I felt at the time. I remember thinking, “don’t fall. The Man of Honor is smaller than you and you’ll pull him right over.”

I realized on Friday night how far I’ve come since then. I was talking with a bridesmaid and Bestie and I was telling the bridesmaid how I was in such a bad place mentally in my life and only recently came out of it. Not being happy with your appearance really makes a huge impact on how you feel in general. At least for me it did. I wasn’t happy with me so I wasn’t happy with anything really. I remember blaming it on the fact I was single and no one wanted to date me. Well Jesus, who would?! I am finally feeling more comfortable in my skin. Like I told the bridesmaid, I feel like I’ve gone through a total transformation and I’m a different person now. I mean, I moved away and back, gained a ton of weight, my Bestie went off to the Army which was difficult and depressing and when she came back, I had lost control.

So now there’s her wedding. If you’re one of my followers, you know the dress story. I’m going to tell it again. In October of last year she picked her dress and ours. Hers was stunning. We tried on three different dresses. I really REALLY hated one of them. The other girls loved it. Of course it’s the one she picked. I was so upset about it, but I thought, “It’s not your wedding, it’s hers. She gets what she wants. Keep your mouth shut.” I didn’t say anything. We were standing at the register as she was paying and she knew something was wrong. She asked. I said “nothing” and she gave me the look. I quietly told her I really didn’t like the dress but it didn’t matter. She understood. I told her it wasn’t a big deal, it was her wedding. In that moment, I knew I had to do something to look better in that dress. I think what ultimately threw me off was the putrid green color of the floor sample… and it was falling apart. I was also a size 20. There came a day where I had to make a decision. Now depending on who you talk to, I ordered the dress from two to four sizes too small. I was a size 20. I ordered a size 16. That’s two sizes. That’s a big challenge, but I had to do it. I got the dress in March. It didn’t fit. I still wasn’t a fan. When the dress zipped was when I started liking it. That was in August. Now that I see the pictures, I actually really like it a lot. I wouldn’t say love, but it’s definitely far from hate. It was a journey getting that dress to zip. I’m so proud of myself.

Close to full body shots…

It felt amazing to hear people tell me how great I look. I know they aren’t lying to me or trying to make me feel good. I know some people walked right by me and had no idea who I was, even though they know me. I know one guest has lost A LOT of weight and I’ve seen her pictures, but to see her in person was COMPLETELY different! I assume that’s exactly how it felt for everyone else seeing me for the first time in a really long time.

People also came up to talk to me about my speech. I’m not one to get nervous with public speaking so I was fine. I was just concerned about holding it together long enough to get it all out. I have included it below for those of you who want to read it. It was a great feeling to know it touched so many people. I feel like I’m really starting to see who I really am. That may not make any sense but it does to me. I feel like I’m not living in a cloud any more.

First I would like to welcome home everyone who has recently returned to the States. I also want to thank you all for your service.

We’ve been friends for what seems like 6 of the fastest years of my life. I remember the exact moment we clicked. We hated each other at the beginning. She was coming back to a store that she originally set up and I took over. Territorial and proud, we started working at the service desk together, uncharted territory for her and I was finally feeling comfortable. I remember suggesting how to do something. It was apparently unwelcome and she replied, “if I need your help, I’ll ask for it!” from that moment on we were like macaroni and cheese. Someone once told us, “I never see one of you without the other far behind.”

so much has happened as we’ve grown into the amazing people we are today. I moved away and back. She joined the army, went to basic, AIT, Iraq, and then school. She met a guy while deployed, they got engaged, he went to Afghanistan, she graduated, and here we are. That’s a crazy amount of stuff to go through with someone in six years.

We’ve been through two deployments. She called me her army wife. I called her my soldier. Now shes the army wife and she has her own soldier. We’re closer now than we ever have been. As strange as it may sound, even though we rarely spoke, I feel closer to Brian after this deployment. At one point he sent me a message and thanked me for being here for Christine. I never thought of the impact I had on his life by being here for her. I’m grateful for both of you.

I’ll never understand the bond of soldiers because I’m just a civilian. When Christine told me it was different with Brian, it just felt right on every level, there was no reason for me to question her or her judgement. I knew she found the one.

We’ve been through the near and the far, the good and the bad, the thick and the thin. I’m so excited to see what the future has in store for you both and watch you grow old and gray. I’m so lucky God didn’t bless me with a sister so I could choose my own.

*grab glass*

To Brian and Christine- Cherish the life you have together and remember to live well, laugh often, and love much. I love you.

Can I just say, I really do love and respect our soldiers. I’m accepting applications. Kidding aside, I would love to be an Army Wife.

Photo on Left: the last wedding I was in. I was the Best Man to my best guy friend
Photo on Right: the wedding this weekend. Maid of Honor for my best girl friend

Proof those jeans really did fit at some point

What has society done to us?

Instagram has been consuming a lot of my time recently. More than it should but I see so much on there to read or look at. I find people who need support, I find people who have tons of support, I find girls who need support of a different kind and there are too many of the wrong people supporting them. I find inspiration for myself. It’s amazing what one app can do to change your life. It sounds a bit far fetched, but it’s true. It hasn’t changed my life, but you know some of those people need their followers to keep it going.

There are a few things I want to talk about tonight. What is true inspiration? What has society done to girls? What about the naysayers or people who can’t support you? Can you be judged for eating right?

When people used to tell me I was an inspiration I pretty much blew them off. I know I’ve said this before, but I’m going to say it again. People of all shapes and sizes told me I was an inspiration to them. I didn’t see it. I still have a difficult time with it but now I feel it more than ever. There are pictures on my new favorite virtual playground (Instagram) of people like me, who have lost 50+ pounds. There are A LOT of us. Then I see people who are like a size 4 who lose five pounds and others comment on their pictures that they’re “so inspirational.” This REALLY helped it click for me. I actually feel insulted by that. I don’t mean to take away someone else’s success, but for someone to say that five pounds is inspirational blows me away. Five pounds is one big dump to some people out there… How about almost 100 pounds? Or how about MORE than 100 pounds? Or what about those that finally got the strength to begin their journey and have more than 100 pounds to lose? These people are inspirations. Anyone can lose five pounds. Not everyone can lose half of their original body weight… Inspiration is all about what pushes you to make a change for yourself or feel a certain way. I’m blessed and grateful for the people who have reached out to me to express their gratitude for helping motivate them.

There is the other extreme on there though, which actually makes me incredibly sad for the future of our young women (and even men) in the world. They’re so brain washed to think that having your hip bones stick out is the way to be. Or to be able to wrap your hands around your thighs. Or to have a “thigh gap” or boney shoulders or a visible spine or ribcage… These girls post under #weightloss but also under #bulimic and #anorexic.  They post grotesque pictures of sickly thin girls who are malnourished, that have dingy hair and gray skin and think it’s attractive and they strive for that “perfection.” One girl posted words that said something like “food is bad for me.” I posted that bad food is bad for you. Apparently she had binged and was feeling fat and guilty. When I read her profile she had that she was 130 pounds and her goal weight was 97 pounds. She was really thin. She twisted her body to show her hips in the pictures. I thought back to a girl I went to high school with and she told me she was bulimic and I told her how thin she was and she said that was like calling a fat person fat. I never thought of it this way. Their brains are wired differently. They need love, support and guidance. They need to know what healthy really is and how to get to that point in their lives. We see models in magazines and TV personalities, and we’re made to feel like we’re huge when they’re tiny. I’m a size 16 now. I plan on being at least a 12. I am now the size of an “average” American woman and I still feel huge. Why do I feel like this? Why do 15 year old girls who aren’t physically mature feel like they’re not pretty or skinny enough?

I have encountered people in my life that don’t have it in them to be supportive of the decisions I’m making. I don’t expect everyone to be “on my side.” I don’t care. I know who my true friends are. I know the people that really matter. I am much stronger than the naysayers. I have the ability to say no to a patty melt or doughnut. When I am ready, I will decide what I eat. Those people think, “What’s one doughnut going to hurt? What’s one piece of candy?” Okay, well take something you REALLY like and say no to it when someone puts it in front of you. A glass of wine, a piece of cake, pretzels, popcorn, beer… try it sometime. Then the person offering will tell you to take it, that it’s okay, and you know you can’t for your own good. If you don’t have a medical reason to back you up, it’s even harder. No one is really going to force a diabetic to eat cubes of sugar, but if you’re not a diabetic, what’s your excuse? Your own health? Your own determination? Your own promise to yourself? That’s not good enough to some people. Yes, this can be discouraging, but to know you have the strength to be true to yourself is your power. Someone I work/worked with one time made a comment about why my back may have been hurting (even though I wasn’t complaining of any pain), implying it was because of my weight. I will never in my life forget this. At that time I was my heaviest and I was gobsmacked that someone would actually say that to me, in front of someone else, no less. I felt extremely hurt by this and I know that person has no idea they did it. To make a negative comment about someone’s weight is, I think, one of the worst things you can actually say to a person, especially if the person making the comment has never had a weight problem. Now that I’m losing weight, the naysayers can EAT their words and kiss my ass because it doesn’t matter what you think. You’re meaningless in my big picture and will only be a blip in my memory some day. Don’t judge me for wanting to make myself a better person and then actually following through.

These pants fit me at one point (in 2009-2010). They’re a size 22. Do you think they make my butt look big?

If this is how I look, then how do I feel?

My mom sent me a text yesterday and it said, “wait until you see the difference in your neck between Christmas and now!” She and my dad were looking through her California pictures and I guess they went back and looked at more.

I have comparisons on my phone that I have put together over the past few months and I’ve littered Instagram with them but I wanted to see what my mom was talking about.

I went to a wedding with Bestie yesterday and I wore a dress I had purchased a couple months ago. It’s long and sleeveless with a low neckline. I felt somewhat uncomfortable with the neckline because I’m not used to wearing anything that low cut. I told Bestie that I felt like my boobs were hanging out. She said they were kind of but it wasn’t inappropriate. I looked around at what other women were wearing and thought I was the one with the lowest neckline and this made me really self conscious. Now, in all honesty, the dress wasn’t THAT bad. I just felt exposed because I’m not used to wearing something like that. I know what size I am. I’m still having a hard time grasping what it really looks like to other people since I have such a distorted view of myself and I always have. I’m forcing myself to wear things I am not used to wearing because I feel like eventually I’ll believe it looks good. I don’t care if YOU say it looks good, I have to believe it myself.

9/8/12 Wedding Photobooth

After the wedding I stopped at Mom’s house to ask her about a plant (that I’ll probably end up killing, even though she says they’re indestructible). I asked her to see the picture she was talking about earlier in the day. It was another one of those moments where I felt like I was looking at someone else.

A picture from my birthday (November 10, 2011) and one from Grandma’s birthday (July 18, 2012)

Again, I know it’s me, but it feels so strange to look at it. Now you’re probably sitting there thinking, “wow she looks so great,” or “how did she make that huge of a change in such a short period of time?” Well, I think my butt and legs and hips got tired of getting skinny, so my face, neck and shoulders took over.

I really changed my eating habits this year. I HAD to. In December I was a size 20 (XXL-XXXL). I was really stuck because I knew I had to buy a dress for Bestie’s wedding by the end of December. The one she chose was being discontinued. I knew I didn’t want to be a size 20 at her wedding and I had to set a goal for myself. I did not want to buy a size 20 dress and allow myself to half ass this weight loss, knowing I had a dress big enough, just in case I didn’t commit to losing the weight. I know how I think and I had to take away the safety net. I had no idea what size to order. I talked to a woman at the dress store and explained to her what I was doing and we decided to go with a size 16. She asked me three times if I was sure I wanted to do this and I told her “I have to. I have to buy this dress, then I have to make sure it fits by September.” I wasn’t scared. I didn’t think, “what if it won’t fit?” I did think, “what if I lose too much and they can’t alter it?” (They can only alter down two sizes). I kept telling myself, “you have nine months. You can do this and you have to do this. You can’t fail, don’t look like a dummy.” So I really started watching how much I was eating and what I was eating. To this day I’m still watching because the dress does zip, and it fits better than last time it zipped (I can breathe in it now), but it’s at that point where if I gain five pounds it probably won’t zip. I have two more weeks to work on it.

The back of the dress

The other day I grabbed an old hoodie I had and threw it in the car to take to work. It’s an XL. When I bought it, it JUST fit. Then I washed it and it never fit again. I think I bought it in 2004 or 2005. I haven’t tried to put it on in years. I gave up hope. It makes me wonder why I even kept it. I was freezing at work the other day and went to get it from my car. I didn’t care how tight it was going to be, it’s all I had and it was going to work. As I slipped it over my head and down my arms, I realized it wasn’t nearly as tight as I thought it was going to be. I looked in the mirror and this is what I saw.

It was comfortable. Thank God, it’s the only hoodie I have that actually fits!

Today I asked Mom to send me the pictures she showed me last night and I asked if she could find any from 2008 or 2009 since that’s when I was my heaviest. Mom is always taking pictures, so I knew she had some. Here is some of what she sent.

Excuse my ridiculous expression from 2009.
I took the 2012 picture today after seeing this

Now in both of these pictures, I remember how uncomfortable I felt, especially the bottom one. I had a button down shirt on under the sweater. Both were too tight as it was and I remember feeling SOOO restricted and HOT! I was always too warm, especially in bulky sweaters. In the picture on the top: I loved that sweater because it was thin, but I always felt like it was too tight. I refused to buy the next size up, I didn’t even try it on. Sweaters were nice because they stretched out. I really did hate how I looked. I remember looking in the mirror so many days and not really seeing myself because I really didn’t want to. I was so unhappy and felt like I didn’t have the determination to change it. I was comfortable being uncomfortable. I remember thinking, “the good thing about always being fat… when you go to your high school reunion, no one can comment on how fat you got.” Yeah, well, guess what? I was fat during high school, then I got skinny after high school, then I got really fat way after high school and now I’m getting healthy (and skinny). I hope to not make this yo-yo trip again.

How do I feel now? Physically, I feel great. I know what I’m supposed to be eating and what is going to make me feel like crap. I feel like I’m on the right path to where I want to be. I don’t feel like I’m struggling with my food choices. Everything I eat is a conscious decision. I know what I’m eating.

Mentally, I still feel confused. I don’t know if I will ever feel “normal” when I see old pictures of myself. I may need counseling? Am I supposed to feel like this? If this feeling doesn’t go away will I “relapse” back into fatness because that’s mentally where I literally picture myself? When will I feel “satisfied” with the way I look, if ever?

Emotionally, I feel better every day. Every picture “like” on Facebook or Instagram make a difference. The biggest impact comes from people from high school that I haven’t talked to since high school, or total strangers. It makes me think, why are these people liking these pictures? I’m still me… have I physically changed that much and it’s their way of saying “I see you, I see what you’ve done?” My support system is always telling me how great I look and how proud they are. I feel strong and confident again. I don’t feel like I want to hide. I don’t feel fat, like I used to, but I know I still have weight to lose. I feel better every day and when I see pictures that I can put side-by-side, it’s the greatest motivation, knowing I did it through my own strength and willpower. All of the likes and comments are helping me pick up the pieces to my self esteem and you are helping me believe in myself, more so now than ever.

This motivation makes me want to help motivate others. Today I spent WAY too much time on Instagram looking at #weightloss and #weightlossjourney. There are so many people going through what I’ve gone through, and what I’m going through and I have the ability to pay it forward to these strangers and be that pat on the back. I can let them know they’re doing a great job and keep up the good work. They can see my pictures, and see the proof that I’ve been there, I know what they’re dealing with. If I can give just one person a little bit of hope, showing them that it may be a huge hill to climb, but they can do it, even if it is one tiny step at a time.

2010 was a bad year apparently. Gross.

I feel like the older I get, the better I look.

Anonymous Addiction

First, a disclaimer: I have never dealt with addiction. I have watched several people very close to me deal with addictions. I have taken a couple psychology courses, and I am by no means a professional; I am not proclaiming to be one. My posts are my opinion and how I see things.

Now, on to business.

There are several types of addictions: drug, alcohol, food (although a lot of people don’t believe this), sex, gambling, video games, shopping, exercise, the list goes on and on. Under the right circumstances and for the right person, anything can become an addiction.

People with addictions usually don’t see they have a problem until it’s too late. If you try and tell an addict that they have a problem or if you call them an addict, all you’re going to do is offend them. This goes for all addictions. They say the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. You won’t know you have a problem until you hit rock bottom, or kill yourself. For example: even though it wasn’t an addiction, I was able to see I had a weight problem when I saw 309 on the scale. Normally rock bottom is being 100% unable to satisfy that craving and being unable to, no matter what.

People don’t just wake up one day and say, ” My goal for the day is to shoot up for the first time,”  or “eat until I make myself sick,” or “drink until I black out.” It’s a gradual process that progressively gets worse. Something traumatic normally happens in their life that then need to find a way out. The look for the one thing that will take them away to a place where they don’t have to feel the pain anymore. It becomes an addiction when they can’t live without it anymore, that you literally need that fix to “survive.” I say “survive” because if you don’t have that piece of cake, or crystal meth, or bottle of Merlot, it’s not going to kill you. You literally will [normally] not die from withdrawal, but your body feels so strongly that you NEED to eat that Big Mac, you have to satisfy the craving to make it go away.

Now I’ve watched enough Dr. Phil and Dr. Drew to know, you can’t overcome addiction without one, truly wanting to and two, dealing with the original issue that caused you the pain to turn to your “drug” in the first place. It’s all tied together. You can’t just stop the addiction and move on with your life. Moving on will be a constant struggle for the rest of your life, constantly having to think, “Am I strong enough to resist the temptation?” Constantly having to think (on some level) of how the addiction came to be in the first place.

It’s easy for non-addicts to call addicts “weak” people. I’m sure they (addicts) have heard it all, “I don’t know why you can’t just stop drinking,” or “how hard is it to just stop smoking pot,” or “just don’t do it.” It’s not that simple, jerks. The brain of an addict is wired differently than a non-addict. They think differently, they have different urges, they have different wants and needs. Think of something you do every day than you really enjoy… running, exercising, reading, writing, playing video games, drinking coffee (this is a great one)… and just stop. You think, “I don’t need to, these habits aren’t bad for me.” Right, but I’m trying to convey a point, even if it isn’t bad for you, imagine trying to break a habit you’ve had for how long? Now think of how an addict feels when they hear a comment like that… It’s more than a habit, it’s an addiction and you can’t just stop.

People don’t realize that coffee/ tea/ soda that have caffeine are all addictive. If you’re a coffee drinker, have you ever tried to “go off” coffee? Cigarettes work the same way. Just stopping will cause some major problems in your life. I know before I stopped drinking coffee I couldn’t function without it. Detoxing was awful. Imagine if you’re on heroin or cocaine and you just stop. Your body will flip out.

Something that’s more difficult to relate to is a food addiction. It’s so difficult because we ALL do it. EVERY SINGLE PERSON on the face of this planet eats. So how can something so “normal” become so debilitating? It all goes back to why you have that addiction. Food is readily available almost anywhere. I have food in my kitchen; I’m sure you have food in your kitchen. When something happens in your life, and you turn to food, it’s one of the most easily accessible “drugs” around. You can also have an addiction and no one would know because it just looks like you’re eating. All addictions trigger the pleasure centers of the brain in the same way. Food triggers are primarily high in sugar, fat, and/or salt. Why?Because they taste good. Duh. EVERYONE knows these taste good.  Eating disorders could be seen as addiction (I suppose) in some way. Bulimia, anorexia, over eating… Each one has the addiction trait. It’s not only over eating.

If you’ve ever watched the show “My Strange Addiction” on TLC (I am not calling this The Looney Channel because they have some of the craziest shows), you know people can be addicted to some really strange things. Bleach, sleeping with a hair dryer blowing on you, Comet cleaner, gasoline, eating the cushion of your couch… (If you haven’t seen it, you’re missing out)… but one of the parts of the show is the person with the addiction going to see a counselor to determine when and why the addiction started. Same goes for the hoarders shows.

Addiction or not, finding the cause of the problem you’re having is usually more traumatizing than kicking the problem itself. No one wants to think back and remember an abusive relationship, or the time they witnessed something awful happen, or when they had something traumatizing happen to them… That’s why you have the vices… so you don’t have to go to that place, but unfortunately you have to either go there and dig up all of that crap within you to heal it and make it better or some people “pull the door closed,” and bolt it shut and never, ever go there again and move on.

If you or a loved one needs help, I have included some links to Anonymous groups that aren’t as widely known as Alcoholics Anonymous. It’s never too late to get help. Sometimes asking is the worst part about it.

Food Addicts Anonymous

Overeaters Anonymous

Gamblers Anonymous

Narcotics Anonymous

Hoarders Anonymous

Survivors of Incest Anonymous

HIV Anonymous

Emotions Anonymous

Annddd we’re back…

I had to “take some time off” from writing. Mentally and emotionally I felt very tired and down in the past week or so. Some days I didn’t feel like writing, other days, it was just negative. I knew when I felt better I would start up again. We all have our days… or weeks, right? No one wants to listen to a crybaby… at least that’s how I feel.

In that time I didn’t really talk to many people. Only The Bestie. Even my mom sent a message saying she hadn’t heard from me. I gained 3 pounds, no thanks to mother nature, and I was eating really well. That’s really discouraging to see a +3 when you’ve been working so hard to lose the weight and there’s nothing you can do about it because you’re a woman and mother nature sucks. I guess it could have been worse, but it didn’t feel good to know I was eating everything I had eaten the week before and went backwards.

That made me feel worse than I already did. I was so tired. I just wanted to sleep. I wasn’t hungry but I wanted to eat everything that was bad for me. I see now how easy it is to fall off the wagon. You have one weak moment and it screws everything up. You then end up telling yourself, “well there goes the day, might as well be my cheat day,” and then that becomes, “I’ll start on Monday,” and Mondays come and go and before you know it you gained 15 pounds. Crap.

I knew if I did nothing else all week, I had to stay strong enough to eat what I was supposed to, even if the scale was being a jerk. We’re down to literally one month before the wedding, I have to really be diligent. I was stupid and tried to put the dress on again last week… Talk about feeling like a fat ass. It didn’t zip… I felt so deflated. It just snowballed. I knew I would come out of it and everything would be okay and that damn dress is going to fit.

Then there are little reminders along the way that show up almost daily now, that allow me to see how far I’ve really come. Stupid things that you wouldn’t normally think about: your ring slipping on your finger so it doesn’t sit upright and you constantly fidget with it to make it straight and it falls right back over, post earrings fitting in the bottom hole in your ear without pinching, the sound your car makes when you sit in it, a light jog making you totally out of breath.

I remember when I had to stop wearing my rings because my fingers were too sausage like. I could get them on, but I had to remove them and put them in my pocket because it would be so uncomfortable when my fingers began to swell. I remember when I couldn’t wear my favorite earrings in my bottom hole because they would be too tight and it would pinch my earlobe. I remember I was in Michigan a few years ago and I got in my car and when I sat down, my poor car sounded like he was groaning, “uuuggghhhh, you’re too heavvvyyy.” It was the epitome of embarrassing. Today I chased after my boss’ dog, playing with him and in that moment when I was bent over running on the warehouse, I thought, “one, imagine what you would look like doing this two years ago. Two, that was painless. Three, wow, I can still breathe after that.” It wasn’t much, but in the split second it made me think that way.

It’s the little things that make me remember where I used to be and make me proud of where I am now. It reminds me I can do this, I have done this, I am doing this, and I will do this. Why? Because I have to. I have to keep going because I’m not who I want to be yet. Not physically, at least.