Shelly Winter's once said, “I'm not overweight, I'm just 9 inches to short!”. Well, I'll be honest, I'm a little more than 9 inches to short. I'm 5'9'' and I weigh 269 pounds... which puts me closer to 20” to short. I did the math. Since I don't see myself growing another 20” (and given the option I wouldn't want to) I'll have to find another way to reach that magical goal weight. Which brings us here, Day Zero. This is the last day of living the fat lady lifestyle. Yep, I'm breaking it off with all my fast food love affairs. I've served the fat that is currently residing on every conceivable area of my body an eviction notice, and I've prepared the trash can to take on a lot of junk food from the pantry, fridge, and freezer. It's going to be quite the overhaul. Sadly, my cupboards are going to be rather bare without the junk food. There really isn't very much that is considered healthy with my current diet plan. Tomorrow is a new day though.
(This will be my fridge tomorrow... the goal sign and all!)
You may be wondering how I got into such a pig-tastic state. To be honest, I wonder myself. I'm not really sure why I ended up where I am. Don't get me wrong, I know what I did to get me here, I'm just not sure why. Usually, reading through stories such as mine, it starts with this critical moment that turned them into a calorie consuming beast. I don't have one of those, or if I do, I don't know what it was.
I had a bright and happy childhood. My
parents didn't put me on diets or make off color remarks about my
weight. I wasn't teased at school. I didn't feel any kind of
self-loathing or self-doubt to trigger eating monstrous amounts of
calories. I ate lots of veggies as a child. I preferred to eat them
straight out of the family garden, which from what I understand is
super healthy. My parents did make me eat meat, but not in a
“clean your plate or your grounded” kind of way. So I honestly
don't know. I'm not going to blame McDonald's or America or any of
those other cop-outs. I drove myself there, I ordered the food, and
I shoved it in my face knowing full well it'd make me fat. Maybe
it's genetics, maybe it's boredom, maybe I just like food to damn
much. I don't know, I don't care. I just know it has to stop.
I haven't always been fat. I was thin all
the way through grade school and middle school. I started gaining
some weight in high school, but it wasn't severe enough to freak me
out. After graduation it began slowly creeping up on me, and now
here I am, BLIMP SIZE BABY!
While I don't know how I got from that
skinny little blonde girl to a morbidly obese woman, I do know what
made me want to stop the expansion. I'm really trying not to make
this some mopey, feel sorry for me blog, but realistically my turning
point was one of complete devastation Well, three points. A few
years ago me and my boyfriend accidentally conceived a child. We
weren't trying, but it happened, and after the initial shock we got
pretty damn excited. However, I miscarried right before the end of
my first trimester. I was devastated and it took months for me to
rebuild myself back into some semblance of a human being. Since
then, we have suffered through two more of these, the most recent one
only a couple of months ago. After the second one I asked my doctor
at the time what was wrong with me and why this kept happening. He
wasn't so up to date on his bedside manner. In a slightly more
professional way he looked me square in the eye and told me it was
all my fault, I was fat. I spent quite awhile beating myself up over
that. I hated myself, I hated my body, and I felt like a monster. A
couple of months ago when it happened again I sought serious medical
advice. A few test later it turns out my hormones are all jacked up.
I'm on a strict regimen of medications, and even though the doctor I'm seeing now
doesn't think my weight is the primary cause and did a great job of
not making me out to be a monster, we both agree that the extra
pounds aren't helping. It's possible that it could be the reason my
hormones are messed up, but more than likely its a genetic issue
since several women in my family had the same issue at ideal weights.
So that’s it. That's why I'm here.
I want children and I want to be healthy enough to not only carry
them, but take care of them once they are here. I also feel like if
I do this, if I get healthy, and something good comes out of the
devastation of losing the other three, I'll be in some small way
honoring them.
****okay, taking a deep breath, drying
my eyes, and moving on****
As I said before, I want to keep this
light and fun and humorous. Losing weight is hard. But it is filled
with hilarious moments, and I want to share them with you, share my
success, and if I'm lucky, get a little moral support. If nothing
else it keeps me accountable.
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