If I could express my disappointment in myself in measures that would allow it to be truly understood, I would.
194.4
One hundred and ninety four -point- four
It's not a huge gain... (just over half a pound) But I promised myself that I wouldn't waste any more time, and I was just kidding myself. I wasn't going to take this picture today at all. I figured once I saw the number on the scale this morning that was enough for me to just hide for the week and "fix it' next week. Then I figured, I have to take the good with the bad.
I found an old diary of mine this week. It was started before I got pregnant with my daughter. In the entries, I went on about the exact same things I'm saying here. That I was "bigger now than I ever have been in the past".. and I was so upset about being 174 lbs. Imagine the depression that can cause to the same person, who is now 20 pounds plus that.
My husband recorded a dateline episode this week. Dateline teamed up with people magazine for their "half my Size" edition. It was a special on people and weight loss, fads and diets that really work, fake diet pills that don't do anything but cost a ton.. and finally, Food addiction.
When watching this I realized something about myself...
I'm addicted to food.
I think about eating a lot. I think about what I'm going to eat.. and what's worse I think about what I want to rat more than what I'm going to eating. I try to eat healthy things, but I actually talk myself into believing that if I'm going to go out to eat at a restaurant, I might as well enjoy my food if I"m going to pay for it.. As if eating healthy when I go out isn't possible, simply because it's a special occurrence.
This would be a true thing to say if it WAS a special occurrence. Instead I go out to eat more often than I eat home cooked meals.
I don't like to cook. One of the main reasons that I don't like to cook is because I don't know how. Do I have desire to learn.... a little bit, but not much. My husband likes to cook, and he's a good cook. But I dont' think he realizes that his food isn't always the best choice for me.
I need a personal chef. Someone who can come into my house, my job, the restaurants I eat at.. cook the meals, put them on the plate for me in the exact portion size that I need and say "here ya go, that's all your getting.. stop bitching about it and eat it".. but that's not going to happen. maybe someone to sit next to me with a ruler and slap my hand every time I reach for a tootsie roll.
Nope.
It's also easy for me to go to my dear husband and blame him for not knowing what to cook for me, and how many calories are in what.. (I'm very guilty of starting that fight).
It's not his fault.
It's not the restaurants fault.
It's mine.
MINE
You see, I've done this before. Been here before. Struggled these struggles before.. on a little bit of a smaller scale. 9 years ago I did this. I was heavy when I got engaged to my lovely calorie-dumb husband. He loves me, that I know... He has seen me at my worst... and at my best.
I lost 40 lbs for my wedding simply because I was pissed off that the dress shop was going to charge me for a plus sized dress. WHY can't I get that kind of motivation? It was like, something clicked that one day.
But.. I had my Mom cooking for me. I ate home at 5:30 every single day.. and it became easy for me, cause my Mom was doing it with me, and I learned what I needed to do to get the weight off. I have been trying to figure out a formula that works for me since then.. and they pretty much all end in excuses that that was the only way that I could get this weight off.
Excuses. They're all big fat dripping in oil and salad dressing plain as the nose on my face excuses. In fact.. that's one of my favorite excuses. That it was easy to do it then cause my life was so different. First, that's bull shit. Second, my life has changed.
(Below is a picture of me on my wedding day. It's one of the best ones that I have that show how thin I really was)
Over the holidays I went to NY to visit my family and decided after 8 years of marriage, it was time to get the wedding dress out of the closet and take it to be preserved. After looking at it.. and looking at myself, Its hard for me to believe that it ever actually fit on me. I mean, the bra that I wore that day can't even close more than halfway around my body now!
When I got married, I weighed 140lbs.
The thought of that makes me sad..angry.. hurt.
But this time, I'm starting to feel a new emotion when thinking about my weight, and how physically out of shape I am.
Scared.
I'm scared that if I stay on this path I will continue to Yo-yo. ON and Off, On and off.. try and try.. and "starting again tomorrow".. over and over, until one day I have a heart attack. I'm not speaking figuratively, I mean a literal heart attack.
I'm not a small girl. I know that a lot of my friends will tell me that I look fine. Even my closest friends tell me I don't look too bad. I've even been told by one of my closest friends thatit's cause I've got such big bobs.. that if I had a breast reduction my weight would drop. My clients at work have even said to me that I look like I've lost weight... when I haven't lost, I've gained.
These comments feeds my ego.. and therefore, my mouth.
Compliments can be grat. very motivating. but compliments placed by those who are just looking for something nice to say, sometimes shouldn't be said at all.
I'm an excuse for someone who claims that they are trying. And the only one that I"m hurting, is myself.
And my daughter.She needs me to be a healthy Mother to her and what am I doing? What is she learnimg from me?
"What do you leave to your child when you're dead... Only whatever you put in it's head" - Quote from: "Children Will Listen".
It's scary to me.
I don't want to die from being fat.
I don't want to die young.
I don't want to die.
I want to be healthy. I have aspirations of being a runner, and being able to look back at pictures of myself and say "look at me.. look at what I did to better my life". have visions of hearing my doctors tell me that my blood pressure is perfect, and that my cholesterol is normal.. and that I did this all for myself.
I want to make my daughter proud.
I want to not
But while i think of these things, my stomach starts to growl and I think about my lunch that is waiting for me.
It's hard.
It's sad.
I need help.
But ultimately, the only person who can help me..
Is ME.
.
.
.
And I can't give up on myself. I can't give up on this challenge. I need to get started on the rest of my life!
Wouldn't it be really awesome if I could actually do it?
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