Day 53

Here is another hard one. This is not an angry or sad blog, its more an introspective one. I'm trying to take a look from the outside.

I have always been blessed. I am a very heavy person that has never had trouble walking, or making friends, or sore knees. I often have a sore back, but really I blame that on the size double F cup. I have had borderline high blood pressure though, since I was 16. I remember the day that I found out about it. My pediatrician sent me to an endocrinologist because she was worried about my weight. I don't remember what I weighed then, but I know it was over 300. I don't know what went through his mind, I don't know how he saw me, or what or even if he valued me at any level, but I know he chose to treat me like a burden to his practice. He treated me like (in my opinion) being fat made me less worthy of his help or his time. He flat out told me at 16 years old that I would never do it myself. Then he proceeded to use scare tactics. He told me all of the things that I would die from if I didn't start "controlling" myself and lose some weight. He asked me about my activity during the day and when I told him how far I walked home from school (to a friends house) he told me I was lying. I'm not going to get into the hows or whys, or drama of it all, but I've been thinking about something for the last two hours or so. Fear. Sitting there in that doctors office being berated and seeing my mothers face twisted with worry takes me back to being 12 years old and seeing a news story about a little girl with a weight problem who died. she was younger than me. Every night for weeks I went to bed thinking: "Am I going to die?" Wondering if I would get to finish my favorite books, or if the last thing I said to my mother was good enough. Flash forward to 16. The doctor told me all about the things that kept me awake every night. I used to wonder if I was going to have a heart attack in my sleep, or in the gymnasium, or doing the mandatory mile for gym class. Flash forward to 22 (I think). I had a period lasting 18 months. I was so scared. I had so much fear and shame that I could not bring myself to see a doctor. A low carb diet finally stopped it. Flash forward again to this past summer. I went to the beach on a very hot day. Walking through the sand and back to my car was so hard I had chest pains. Literal chest pains. I was so frightened that I came home and told my husband that I was afraid I was going to die. I have spent almost every day of my adolescence and now adulthood filled with fear that my weight was going to kill me. That was also the day that I finally decided to stop ttc and start hormonal birth control. I couldn't get pregnant, and even if I did, I was afraid it would kill me. I still wonder if when I go to sleep I am going to get up in the morning. Fear has consumed so much of my life and my joy that I sometimes get lost in the idea that I have it so badly. Sometimes my personal perspective clouds things. It can be really hard for me to feel like someone else has to struggle the way I have or do, and I know that it isn't true. I know that this is hard for everyone. I now feel like my fear has made me trivialize the efforts of someone else, and the fact of the matter is, I simply never looked at it that way. We learn some hard truths in our lives, and one of them is that the things we say affect other people, even when we don't mean them to. Its growing up. I weighed over 400 lbs less than a month ago, and I did/do feel like I couldn't relate to someone who has a lot less to lose than I do. I don't really feel so much like that right now, as its funny how a few hours can change your perspective. The journey in common creates a lot of the same emotions and brings so many of the same reactions to the surface. My fear has made me feel so alone, and it just isn't right because I'm not. The above mentioned events are not so much to separate me from the crowd, but to show my skewed perspective. After all, this is about more than the outside change, its also about changing my insides so that eventually they can work in tandem without constant reminders. All of this is again one more way in which numbers on a scale and terrible self image have shaped me, one more way that weight has consumed me. I don't feel sad, or hopeless. I feel determined. I cant give up, and I wont. I'm finding new things every day that make me feel good, or fulfilled that arent food or related to food. I'm trying to be empowering and empowered. I'm trying to win the battle for my life... Just like the rest of you.

Today was a bad food day. I did not reach my points as I was very busy today and spent a lot of it feeling stressed. I'm getting up early tomorrow morning to help some friends with cooking that they have to do, and then coming back home to actually complete my baking project and get ready for trick or treaters. Ladies and gentlemen, I am so tired, but having so many good friends is so worth it. Sometimes I think I lose sight of that. I'm having a hard week I think, emotionally.

Sunday is weigh in day!

Today:
1/2 banana: 1
1 cereal bar: 1
1 serving lasagna: 6
1 ww yogurt: 1
1 grilled chicken sandwich: 7
Movie theater popcorn: 14? (I'll admit, I was bad. I was STARVING and ate most of the container)
Total for the Day: 30/44
Leftover: 14

Wow, I haven't been this off in a long time...