OK, so I used to be cute. USED TO BE. Its a thing of the past these days. It happens to people all the time. It happened to me. It happened slowly, so I didn’t really realize it was actually happening at first. But it happened.
Back in 2000, when I got married, I was young and happy and cute and THIN. I was able to wear anything in the size 6-8 range, and it was relatively easy to shop for clothes. Of course, I actually didn’t realize how thin I was. I thought I was fat. Yup, I was one of those annoying girls who would always complain about being too fat. “I’m sooooooo fat. I can’t believe how fat I am. I weigh 135 pounds and I’m 5’7″ – I’m sooooooo huge.” If I could go back in time and slap that stupid biatch I would!!! GET IN LINE!!!
I came from a very traditional home where Mom cooked, the daughters cleaned and lived at home until they got married. Sort of like a prison sentence, but more like wearing an ankle monitor under house arrest. It was our parents way of protecting us from any sort of reality. Thankfully, I went to school full-time, plus had two jobs so I could ensure some sort of social life. Girl’s gotta dance! Unfortunately, my parents, both of whom are excellent cooks, never really bothered to pass along their mad skills. I didn’t realize the implications of this until I got married. Poor guy assumed I would be ready to feed his ass the minute we said “I do”. (Oh, and technically we didn’t actually say ‘I do’ because you don’t speak during an Orthodox wedding ceremony, but that’s a whole other post).
So fast forward to married life. During meal times, I pretended I knew what I was doing; we would just stare at each other for inspiration, then give up and go out for dinner. We did that alot. As anyone can expect that began the slow weight gain that took over. All it takes is a pound here, a pound there, 5 pounds a year and before you know it, you are HUGE.
Then April 2003 I found out I was pregnant with my son. I was already overweight so gaining 30 pounds during my pregnancy was difficult to deal with. Of course, I didn’t truly notice (ie. pay attention to) how big I really was until after I gave birth that December. The first week I was completely consumed with my baby, but then I got a glimpse of myself in the mirror and couldn’t believe what I saw. It was my first realization that I was HUGE. A year later, I decided to do something about it and joined a weight loss program that focuses on eating very low calorie (less than 800) while they inject you with “vitamins” so you don’t die on their watch. It was very effective. They tell you not to exercise because it will affect your weight loss – AWESOME! Of course, you get so weak, your hair falls out and your skin gets so dry that exercise is the furthest thing from your mind. I did that for 6 weeks and lost 40 pounds. It was great, I was thin again and I got complemented a hundred times a day. The fact that my muscle mass and metabolism were destroyed didn’t really factor in because I was back baby! I was shopping like crazy and hiding my bags so the hubby wouldn’t have a coronary – it felt great!
Fast forward to pregancy #2 with my daughter in 2006 – I still looked great and gained about 20 pounds with the baby. I was 25 pounds less with this pregnancy and I heard about it constantly. Anyone and everyone loved to point out how much smaller I was with this baby. “You look great. Much better than last time!” Seriously, can you keep you rude, bitchy and RUDE comments to yourself! When did it become ok for virtual strangers to tell you their opinion of what you look like. Seriously, MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS. I am a pregnant woman – I AM ON THE EDGE. Don’t push me or you may end up eating one or both of my feet, through your ass!
After my daughter’s birth I noticed a major change in my ability to deal with things. I had had post-partum with my first son, but chose not to take the pills my doctor suggested I take. The second time around, I didn’t mention it to my doctor at all. In fact, I lied and told him that all was fine and well. But it wasn’t and truth be told, I still feel the same way sometimes, although most days it doesn’t really affect my ability to function. And how is that you might ask? Well, I have successfully self-medicated for the last 2 1/2 years with food.
I eat when I’m happy, when I’m pissed off, when I’m bummed, alone, tired, stressed, bored and for no reason whatsoever. I never really understood this phenomenon until it actually happened to me. I always thought it was the oddest thing that people would eat when they weren’t hungry. Weirdos. That is just craziness. The funniest thing is that I don’t even get any enjoyment out of it at all. None. I’ve done this for so long, that I forget what its like to eat things that I enjoy, and then stop to actually enjoy them. That sounds pathetic right? I agree with you.
So here I am, very overweight and very annoyed with myself. I need to lose this weight for my health, for my kids, for my sanity. I’m tired of my fatness being something that I have to think about all day long, every single day. I would rather think about Jeffrey Dean Morgan instead – seriously the man is a GOD, how could you not? I’m tired of having a list of things I want to do, WHEN I lose the weight. I am at the point where I MUST lose this weight – I’m really tired of wearing my fat uniform, day in and day out. I’m tired of guys not checking me out anymore – the good old days of being a yummy mummy are long gone. No longer a MILF, I’m more like a MILRASBM (Mother I would Like to Run Away from Screaming Bloody Murder). Not really what I was going for.
I’m ready to start this – I have all the tools to get started. My only problem now is that although I have the motivation to do it, I need the willpower. I need to turn off that voice in my head that says I can’t do it. I need it to stop telling me I’m a failure, and instead tell me that every pound lost counts even if it is a slow process. I need support from people going through it, who have gone through it and have succeeded – I need some warriors on my side.
Are you a work in progress? A Success Story? A Mommy who needs some support of her own? I would love to hear from all of you. I need all the support, encouragement and laughs I can get. I’m done crying about this – if anything is going to get me through it, its going to be my sense of humour!