There is a big difference between being fat in mind, and fat in body. I am no longer fat in body by most medical standards. The nurses don’t break out the big blood pressure cuffs anymore, and the doctors don’t end my checkups with the whole “you’re going to get diabetes/have a heart attack/stroke out on the toilet” speech anymore. But, mentally I am still the fat ass that I was 105 pounds ago. I still feel like people stare at me as if I don’t belong whenever I enter the misses section of a department store. I still feel a little embarrassed ordering food in a restaurant as if they are judging me. I still look for clothes to hide my body and I still hate walking away from people because I feel like they are staring in disgust at my enormous backside.
I still have trepidation about sitting in chairs, buckling seatbelts, and walking on treadmills for I am certain that the last six months has all been a dream and the moment I let my guard down and do anything without caution I will break a chair, need a seatbelt extender, or snap the belt on the treadmill.
I look at old pictures and can’t begin to remember or rationalize the life I used to live. How did I think it was ok to scarf down a pint of Ben & Jerry’s every single night and sometimes follow it with a Butterfinger chaser? Why did I not see the damage I was doing everytime I devoured a Red Robins A-1 Peppercorn burger (2000 calories and 96 grams of fat, yessir!!), an order (or two) of buttery garlic and parmesan steak fries and a tower of greasy onion rings? The list could on and on and on…..just as the size of my waistline once did.
My greatest anxiety now is how to never end up back in that same place. Mentally, I just constantly tell myself I can’t have this because of the surgery, or I can’t have that because my stomach can’t handle it, but what about the day a year or two from now when that is no longer true? I don’t want to become the statistic that so many assume I will be, who starts gaining weight and old habits back after a couple of successful years.
For the most part, I am over my love affair and obsession with food. I no longer crave it more than I yearn for breath as I once did. I no longer turn to it for comfort, need it to feel socially relevant, or resent my inability to consume it. But every once in awhile, I will find myself bored and reaching for the chips or the chocolate or some other decadent little snack cake and I have to stop myself and wonder why I was doing it. Or, more importantly, how can I stop the instinctive action that has dominated me for most of my 35 years?
How can I take what I see on the outside and make it match what is on the inside? Is it unreasonable to assume that it’s even possible.
There is one thing of which I am absolutely certain, and that is this – obesity/overeating IS a disease, whether genetic or environmental. Naysayers of the (thinner) world, before you shake your empty heads, just remember that unless you have lived it or lived through it, you should remain open to its possibility. I myself can’t understand how someone becomes an alcoholic or a drug addict, yet the world is full of them and the rehab centers that help them.
If this is true – the addiction of food and its subsequent obesity – than would it be safe to say that I will always be obese, even if it is just in memory? If so, then I humbly present myself to the universe in a thinner shell and say:
“Hello, my name is Lisa and I am an overeater.”
And hopefully, this serves to remind of that from which I came, and how hard I have worked to get to this place, and how I never want to go through it again. From my ice cream stained lips to God’s ears.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Sunday, October 3, 2010
100 Reasons I Love Being 100 Pounds Lighter
This post is long overdue, slightly narcissistic and will more than likely make you wonder how I came up with the whole list at work and didn't get fired as I laughed and cried my way through it. I figured I would commemorate having finally lost 100 pounds last week with a list of 100 reason I am grateful to have done so. Feel free to pick and choose rather than gouge your eyes out after reading the entire list, or if you have time on your hands and you don't have ADD, read the entire list and see if you find yourself nodding along.
In no particular order:
1) I get a "do over" in life. I get this one shot to rectify all the wrong that I have done to my body in allowing it to get so fat and out of shape. I also get to correct all that medical science has done to contribute to my cellulite and ever spreading ass.
2) I can chase my kids again, and not just when they are in trouble!
3) I can steal a sweatshirt from my husbands closet and not worry about whether it will fit because I am bigger than him.
4) I can buy smaller shoes. No lie. I went from a size 11 shoe to a 9.5. I never knew feet stored so much fat. Perhaps my arches are just higher without an extra 100 pounds suppressing them.
5) So long full butted undies. Hello, cute little boyshorts!
6) Being able to bend over to tie my shoes without holding my breath. Seriously.
7) Never again having to get on an airplane and ask for a seatbelt extender circa my 2009 trip to Arizona on Southwest. The flight attendant gave me the wonky eye when I asked for one and I had to refrain from donkey punching him in the face since I just didn't have time to submit to a full body cavity search.
8) Being able to walk around without sweating or getting leg cramps. Sad, I know.
9) Getting undressed in front of my husband without shutting off the light or making him "turn the fuck around or you will never have sex with me again!".
10) My kids putting their arms around me and saying "Mom, you are SOO small now!". That never gets old.
11) Attacking clearance racks with the speed and vengeance of a jungle cat attacking its prey. Step aside and let me at the size L's and no one will get hurt!
12) Picking furniture/exercise equipment and NOT having to check the weight limit on it.
13) Having an ass that doesn't knock things over.
14) Having only ONE chin, and no turkey neck. Gobble, gobble!
15) Not having to shop only at plus size stores. Which generally entailed getting ass raped with ridiculously high prices.
16) Buying regular size panty hose. And having a weight that doesn't exceed their size chart.
17) Being able to spoon with the hubby on the couch without having to suck in my gut the entire time as half of me hung precariously over the edge.
18) Not having to squeeze in my gut AND my ass to get by someone in a tight space.
19) Being able to fit in restaurant boothes.
20) Holding up clothes and thinking there is no way MY fat ass will fit into that, only to find it does. With room to spare.
21) Owning a bathing suit that doesn't have a "dress" attached. Ick.
22) Being able to comfortably sit indian style without my stomach sitting in my lap.
23) Being called "Slim" by dad for the first time since I was 18. Seriously, better than fitting into skinny jeans.
24) Not having to hide behind people in pictures.
25) Smaller pants NOT made by Omar the Tent Maker.
26) Sitting in a plastic lawn chair and not feeling the legs bend beneath my girth.
27) Having to pull the seat closer to the steering wheel and not having my stomach touch it.
28) Hugging my husband and not being afraid to let him put his arms around me because I no longer have back fat.
29) Hearing my parents say they are proud of me, and knowing by the look on their face that they mean it.
30) Seeing my ex and silently laughing everytime I remember all the times he said I could never lose the weight.
31) Not sweating when I eat. Seriously, you would think I was a marathon eater scarfing down 100 hotdogs in 2 minutes with the way I used to sweat!
32) Saving money on take out food since I a) can't eat most of it and b) when I do go out I can usually just share food with someone.
33) Gaining knowledge I can pass onto my kids so they never have to struggle the way I did.
34) My daughter telling me I am beautiful and was never fat.
35) Being able to RUN up and down flights of stairs without holding onto the railing for dear life or having an asthma attack.
36) Not struggling between what I should eat and what I want to eat.
37) Wearing clothes just because I like them, and not because of what they will hide.
38) Wearing belts again. Especially since they are no longer the size around of a radial tire.
39) Having small, feminine hands again rather than stumps with sausage fingers.
40) Not being self conscious about eating in front of people. Except for those awkward moments that I drop food and it lands in my cleavage. That is always awkward.
41) Never EVER having cankles again.
42) Being able to cross my legs when I sit for the first time in 15 years.
43) Not leaving huge indentations in the couch where I sit that deform the cushion.
44) Wearing cute flats because I don't need heels to make me look longer and thinner.
45) Going for walks through town, rather than just around the block.
46) Wearing a necklace and not needing to attach a necklace extender.
47) Being able to run for 30 minutes and still feel like I want to do more.
48) Doing yoga and not having to do the "modified" version of the moves. Or crying when I can't hold the poses. Yeah, in the beginning I did that way more than I care to admit to. And couldn't even wash down the tears with a Little Debbie snack cake.
49) Going to the pool without fear of being harpooned.
50) When I lost 50 pounds I could totally see my body transforming. More than meets the eye.....
And *BREATHE*.....feel free to break for a snack. Let's all go to the lobby! Let's all go to the lobby! Let's all go to the lobby, and get ourselves a snack!
And resuming the insanity.....
51) Buying bras off the rack (no pun intended. OK, total pun intended!) rather than in a box or with cushioned 10" straps.
52) Not buying wide width shoes.
53) Never getting into someones car and hoping against hope that the seatbelt will buckle.
54) Not being ashamed to step on the scale at the doctors office. At one appt the nurse was going to bypass this ritual and almost lost an eye because of it.
55) Feeling beautiful for the first time in a VERY long time.
56) Hearing my sisters tell me how proud they are of me.
57) Not feeling like the "token fat friend".
58) Running in public without fear of people staring, laughing and pointing at me.
59) Curling up in the corner of the couch and feeling small.
60) Being able to zipper a pair of boots over my calves.
61) Learning a very important lesson - We must learn to eat to live, rather than live to eat.
62) Coming out of a lifelong depression thanks to exercise.
63) Buying/Ordering clothes that don't have an X in the size.
64) Being able to stand up without grunting.
65) Not having knee or foot pain after a night of dancing in heels.
66) Having an ass that looks like an ass, and not a shelf you can set your coffee on.
67) No lovehandles or muffin top!
68) Finding out who my real friends are, and making new ones. Gastric bypass patients are like a secret society and sometimes it takes one loud mouthed ex-fat ass to get them to open up about it.
69) Being able to ride rollercoasters again without fear that the safety latch will break against the weight of my body.
70) Being able to sit in a chair with arms and not have my thighs protruding out the sides.
71) Having my boobs stick out further than my stomach again.
72) Being able to wear corduroy pants and not worry about the friction from my thighs starting a spontaneous fire.
73) Finding that I did still have ribs and hip bones under all that fat.
74) Not having to suffer through wearing Spanx under dresses and fitted shirts.
75) When I had lost 75 pounds, I was no longer considered a "plus size gal" and could finally buy pants in the Misses section rather than the forbidden, tiny back corner of shame.
76) I no longer resent my skinny friends or want to slip them a roofie and fill them with carbs.
77) The day my husband could pick me up and not pop a groin muscle.
78) The look on peoples faces when they haven't seen me in awhile.
79) Being able to wear heels without the pain inflicted by my weight.
80) When I lost 80 pounds, my dad saw me for the first time in months and cried.
81) The look on my moms face when she came home for a visit and saw me in person for the first time since before surgery.
82) For the first time in a long time, someone told me I was "hot". I think that implies that I am also a MILF, which is slightly creepy yet exciting all at the same time.
83) Letting go of the fear of new things and adventures because my weight no longer inhibits me. This winter I want to learn to ski!
84) The surgery forced me to quit smoking which is something that makes my kids very happy. With the exception of the occassional "I've been drinking so a cigarette totally makes sense" smoke.
85) That food is no longer my comfort or my enemy.
86) That I finally set my mind to do something that seemed completely out of my reach, and achieved it without shortcuts.
87) That I finally feel like I can be the role model my kids deserve.
88) For the first time in a long time, not only does my body feel lighter, but so does my heart and that has helped me to break down walls and love more unconditionally.
89) The day my grandmother walked by me and didn't recognize me was the day I realized just how much I have changed and I loved it.
90) When I lost 90 pounds I only had 10 pounds and 2 weeks to go and my body gave me the one finger salute, closed the window and went on vacation. Bastard. But I didn't give up and only vowed to work harder.
91) I learned that I had more cheerleaders and supporters than I ever could have imagined.
92) When someone pays me a compliment I can finally just say thank you.
93) I purposely pick the further parking spot at the store because it feels good to be able to walk without pain.
94) Taking tub baths again because I can actually fit all of me into the tub.
95) At 95 pounds lost I was so close to my goal that I could taste it. But I was afraid to because I didn't want to risk gaining back any weight.
96) I finished my first 5K with a walk/run and didn't die. Even got a t-shirt to show for it!
97) Learning that in order to appreciate my successes I would have to openly share my failures.
98) Finding out I was worth investing time in.
99) I can walk by mirrors and windows and not be afraid to look.
100) It took me an extra week longer than I had planned to lose the 100 pounds but it was totally worth the weight (HA!). Being able to come up with 100 reasons I love my new life means I will release something into the universe that will always remind of where I started.
This has been a long and arduous journey. At times, I wanted to give up. I often wondered if I made the right decision. I've cried, raged, laughed, screamed, rejoiced and fallen apart on a weekly basis. And when I look at the road ahead of me, and remember that the journey is far from over, I don't want to lose sight of any of the emotions that have carried me this far.
My insecurities have kept me humble througout this process and for that I am grateful. Because nothing is worse or more annoying that a narcissistic ex-fat chick with a smaller ass and a big head. I still look at myself sometimes and feel every single one of the now 105 pounds I have lost, but that is a blog for another day.....
In no particular order:
1) I get a "do over" in life. I get this one shot to rectify all the wrong that I have done to my body in allowing it to get so fat and out of shape. I also get to correct all that medical science has done to contribute to my cellulite and ever spreading ass.
2) I can chase my kids again, and not just when they are in trouble!
3) I can steal a sweatshirt from my husbands closet and not worry about whether it will fit because I am bigger than him.
4) I can buy smaller shoes. No lie. I went from a size 11 shoe to a 9.5. I never knew feet stored so much fat. Perhaps my arches are just higher without an extra 100 pounds suppressing them.
5) So long full butted undies. Hello, cute little boyshorts!
6) Being able to bend over to tie my shoes without holding my breath. Seriously.
7) Never again having to get on an airplane and ask for a seatbelt extender circa my 2009 trip to Arizona on Southwest. The flight attendant gave me the wonky eye when I asked for one and I had to refrain from donkey punching him in the face since I just didn't have time to submit to a full body cavity search.
8) Being able to walk around without sweating or getting leg cramps. Sad, I know.
9) Getting undressed in front of my husband without shutting off the light or making him "turn the fuck around or you will never have sex with me again!".
10) My kids putting their arms around me and saying "Mom, you are SOO small now!". That never gets old.
11) Attacking clearance racks with the speed and vengeance of a jungle cat attacking its prey. Step aside and let me at the size L's and no one will get hurt!
12) Picking furniture/exercise equipment and NOT having to check the weight limit on it.
13) Having an ass that doesn't knock things over.
14) Having only ONE chin, and no turkey neck. Gobble, gobble!
15) Not having to shop only at plus size stores. Which generally entailed getting ass raped with ridiculously high prices.
16) Buying regular size panty hose. And having a weight that doesn't exceed their size chart.
17) Being able to spoon with the hubby on the couch without having to suck in my gut the entire time as half of me hung precariously over the edge.
18) Not having to squeeze in my gut AND my ass to get by someone in a tight space.
19) Being able to fit in restaurant boothes.
20) Holding up clothes and thinking there is no way MY fat ass will fit into that, only to find it does. With room to spare.
21) Owning a bathing suit that doesn't have a "dress" attached. Ick.
22) Being able to comfortably sit indian style without my stomach sitting in my lap.
23) Being called "Slim" by dad for the first time since I was 18. Seriously, better than fitting into skinny jeans.
24) Not having to hide behind people in pictures.
25) Smaller pants NOT made by Omar the Tent Maker.
26) Sitting in a plastic lawn chair and not feeling the legs bend beneath my girth.
27) Having to pull the seat closer to the steering wheel and not having my stomach touch it.
28) Hugging my husband and not being afraid to let him put his arms around me because I no longer have back fat.
29) Hearing my parents say they are proud of me, and knowing by the look on their face that they mean it.
30) Seeing my ex and silently laughing everytime I remember all the times he said I could never lose the weight.
31) Not sweating when I eat. Seriously, you would think I was a marathon eater scarfing down 100 hotdogs in 2 minutes with the way I used to sweat!
32) Saving money on take out food since I a) can't eat most of it and b) when I do go out I can usually just share food with someone.
33) Gaining knowledge I can pass onto my kids so they never have to struggle the way I did.
34) My daughter telling me I am beautiful and was never fat.
35) Being able to RUN up and down flights of stairs without holding onto the railing for dear life or having an asthma attack.
36) Not struggling between what I should eat and what I want to eat.
37) Wearing clothes just because I like them, and not because of what they will hide.
38) Wearing belts again. Especially since they are no longer the size around of a radial tire.
39) Having small, feminine hands again rather than stumps with sausage fingers.
40) Not being self conscious about eating in front of people. Except for those awkward moments that I drop food and it lands in my cleavage. That is always awkward.
41) Never EVER having cankles again.
42) Being able to cross my legs when I sit for the first time in 15 years.
43) Not leaving huge indentations in the couch where I sit that deform the cushion.
44) Wearing cute flats because I don't need heels to make me look longer and thinner.
45) Going for walks through town, rather than just around the block.
46) Wearing a necklace and not needing to attach a necklace extender.
47) Being able to run for 30 minutes and still feel like I want to do more.
48) Doing yoga and not having to do the "modified" version of the moves. Or crying when I can't hold the poses. Yeah, in the beginning I did that way more than I care to admit to. And couldn't even wash down the tears with a Little Debbie snack cake.
49) Going to the pool without fear of being harpooned.
50) When I lost 50 pounds I could totally see my body transforming. More than meets the eye.....
And *BREATHE*.....feel free to break for a snack. Let's all go to the lobby! Let's all go to the lobby! Let's all go to the lobby, and get ourselves a snack!
And resuming the insanity.....
51) Buying bras off the rack (no pun intended. OK, total pun intended!) rather than in a box or with cushioned 10" straps.
52) Not buying wide width shoes.
53) Never getting into someones car and hoping against hope that the seatbelt will buckle.
54) Not being ashamed to step on the scale at the doctors office. At one appt the nurse was going to bypass this ritual and almost lost an eye because of it.
55) Feeling beautiful for the first time in a VERY long time.
56) Hearing my sisters tell me how proud they are of me.
57) Not feeling like the "token fat friend".
58) Running in public without fear of people staring, laughing and pointing at me.
59) Curling up in the corner of the couch and feeling small.
60) Being able to zipper a pair of boots over my calves.
61) Learning a very important lesson - We must learn to eat to live, rather than live to eat.
62) Coming out of a lifelong depression thanks to exercise.
63) Buying/Ordering clothes that don't have an X in the size.
64) Being able to stand up without grunting.
65) Not having knee or foot pain after a night of dancing in heels.
66) Having an ass that looks like an ass, and not a shelf you can set your coffee on.
67) No lovehandles or muffin top!
68) Finding out who my real friends are, and making new ones. Gastric bypass patients are like a secret society and sometimes it takes one loud mouthed ex-fat ass to get them to open up about it.
69) Being able to ride rollercoasters again without fear that the safety latch will break against the weight of my body.
70) Being able to sit in a chair with arms and not have my thighs protruding out the sides.
71) Having my boobs stick out further than my stomach again.
72) Being able to wear corduroy pants and not worry about the friction from my thighs starting a spontaneous fire.
73) Finding that I did still have ribs and hip bones under all that fat.
74) Not having to suffer through wearing Spanx under dresses and fitted shirts.
75) When I had lost 75 pounds, I was no longer considered a "plus size gal" and could finally buy pants in the Misses section rather than the forbidden, tiny back corner of shame.
76) I no longer resent my skinny friends or want to slip them a roofie and fill them with carbs.
77) The day my husband could pick me up and not pop a groin muscle.
78) The look on peoples faces when they haven't seen me in awhile.
79) Being able to wear heels without the pain inflicted by my weight.
80) When I lost 80 pounds, my dad saw me for the first time in months and cried.
81) The look on my moms face when she came home for a visit and saw me in person for the first time since before surgery.
82) For the first time in a long time, someone told me I was "hot". I think that implies that I am also a MILF, which is slightly creepy yet exciting all at the same time.
83) Letting go of the fear of new things and adventures because my weight no longer inhibits me. This winter I want to learn to ski!
84) The surgery forced me to quit smoking which is something that makes my kids very happy. With the exception of the occassional "I've been drinking so a cigarette totally makes sense" smoke.
85) That food is no longer my comfort or my enemy.
86) That I finally set my mind to do something that seemed completely out of my reach, and achieved it without shortcuts.
87) That I finally feel like I can be the role model my kids deserve.
88) For the first time in a long time, not only does my body feel lighter, but so does my heart and that has helped me to break down walls and love more unconditionally.
89) The day my grandmother walked by me and didn't recognize me was the day I realized just how much I have changed and I loved it.
90) When I lost 90 pounds I only had 10 pounds and 2 weeks to go and my body gave me the one finger salute, closed the window and went on vacation. Bastard. But I didn't give up and only vowed to work harder.
91) I learned that I had more cheerleaders and supporters than I ever could have imagined.
92) When someone pays me a compliment I can finally just say thank you.
93) I purposely pick the further parking spot at the store because it feels good to be able to walk without pain.
94) Taking tub baths again because I can actually fit all of me into the tub.
95) At 95 pounds lost I was so close to my goal that I could taste it. But I was afraid to because I didn't want to risk gaining back any weight.
96) I finished my first 5K with a walk/run and didn't die. Even got a t-shirt to show for it!
97) Learning that in order to appreciate my successes I would have to openly share my failures.
98) Finding out I was worth investing time in.
99) I can walk by mirrors and windows and not be afraid to look.
100) It took me an extra week longer than I had planned to lose the 100 pounds but it was totally worth the weight (HA!). Being able to come up with 100 reasons I love my new life means I will release something into the universe that will always remind of where I started.
This has been a long and arduous journey. At times, I wanted to give up. I often wondered if I made the right decision. I've cried, raged, laughed, screamed, rejoiced and fallen apart on a weekly basis. And when I look at the road ahead of me, and remember that the journey is far from over, I don't want to lose sight of any of the emotions that have carried me this far.
My insecurities have kept me humble througout this process and for that I am grateful. Because nothing is worse or more annoying that a narcissistic ex-fat chick with a smaller ass and a big head. I still look at myself sometimes and feel every single one of the now 105 pounds I have lost, but that is a blog for another day.....
Friday, September 17, 2010
Happy (Kinda) "Birthday" to me!
Today is momentous for many reasons. First and foremost, today is the six month anniversary since my surgery. It’s like a half year birthday, except instead of cake, ice cream and presents, I get fruit, water and smaller pants. And on this anniversary of my rebirth, I am happy to share that I have lost…..drum roll, please…… 95 pounds!! Now, if you are reading this you are probably like holy-shitballs-and-mother-of-mercy-that’s-a lot-of-weight, but I have to admit I am a little miffed at my body for being a complete asshole. I set this completely unattainable goal of losing 100 pounds in 6 months. At about the four month mark I didn’t think it was possible to even get close. I stalled out like a rusty Yugo full of fat clowns on more than one occasion and was tempted to drop kick my surgeon in the nut sack. But over the course of the last two months, the weight was flying off. I mean I lost almost 30 pounds in just two months. So my hopes were raised higher than Don King’s hair and I was sure I would be able to pull off that last 10 pounds with no problem. Then I only had 5 pounds and one week to go. Surely, I could do this! I had my husband and daughter hide my scale so I wouldn’t obsess all week, I started my water aerobics classes and was running every other day……and then yesterday happened. One day before my “birthday”.
I was looking through my daughter’s desk to find some tape, when lo and behold I stumbled across my arch nemesis. The scale. That saucy little bitch who rarely tells me the things I want to hear and who taunts me daily, daring me not to exercise or to indulge in a cookie. The whore who mocks me, sometimes for weeks at a time, with little to no weight loss. The dirty little mistress who even manages to shock me on occasion with good news, more than likely out of fear of being smashed in the backyard with a sledge hammer.
So, there she was, looking up at me all glib and shit, daring me to step on and take a look. And being the moron that I am I thought to myself, “it’s only one more day till the weigh in anyway, maybe I should just see how great I have done this week”. True to form, the bitch royally fucked up my day. Because despite all the swimming and running and gross fat person sweating that I have done all week, the scale did. not. move. one. pound. I stood there completely dumbfounded as to how this could be true. Was I bloated? Retaining water? Carrying a fetus inside my vacant and non-existent uterus? Perhaps I was backed up and carrying 10 pounds of poop inside my intestines? Because there is NO WAY I worked this hard to stall out now. So after I kicked the scale across the room, threw it back in the drawer, threw a temper tantrum, cried to my mommy and vowed never to work out again, I came to my senses.
I mean, so what if I didn’t lose 100 pounds in 6 months? I am still in a better place now than I have ever been in my life. I am happier and healthier and doing things I never thought would be possible. Like completing my first 5k on September 11, 2010. Look, I swear, I did it!
I walked/ran it and it was incredible! I’m taking water aerobics and yoga and hiking and running and these are things I never could have done six months ago. The rest of the weight will fall off, of this I am certain, and I need to take a step back and remember how far I have come on this long and winding journey. I'm gonna stop crying, put on my big girl panties and deal with this in the best way I know how.....by moving forward. And running over the stupid scale in my driveway.
Now, this hasn’t been all sunshine and roses, just to be clear. Besides the weight loss setbacks, I have experienced everything from “dumping syndrome” to constant nausea to a raging case of hemorrhoids, but it has all been worth it to look in the mirror and begin to like what I see. The struggles I have with food and wanting to eat to satisfy my emotional needs is lessening everyday. The sweet-baby-jesus-and-holy-mother-of-mary hot flashes are still controlling my life, but at least I’m not eating my way through the day anymore. And whereas before I used to mourn the loss of food and eating whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, I am learning to embrace the idea that we eat to live, rather than live to eat. It’s all very eye opening and enlightening and all that spiritual crap that people say that makes you want to smack them while you sit there happily eating a cake roll.
So, new goal…..
For my one year “birthday” my goal is to be confident enough in what I have achieved to post a before and after pic along with my actual starting weight and my present weight. I was thinking of a tastefully artsy nudie pic for your entertainment, but until I learn how to airbrush out my stretch marks and cellulite and make myself look like Demi Moore in Striptease, that ain’t gonna happen.
I was looking through my daughter’s desk to find some tape, when lo and behold I stumbled across my arch nemesis. The scale. That saucy little bitch who rarely tells me the things I want to hear and who taunts me daily, daring me not to exercise or to indulge in a cookie. The whore who mocks me, sometimes for weeks at a time, with little to no weight loss. The dirty little mistress who even manages to shock me on occasion with good news, more than likely out of fear of being smashed in the backyard with a sledge hammer.
So, there she was, looking up at me all glib and shit, daring me to step on and take a look. And being the moron that I am I thought to myself, “it’s only one more day till the weigh in anyway, maybe I should just see how great I have done this week”. True to form, the bitch royally fucked up my day. Because despite all the swimming and running and gross fat person sweating that I have done all week, the scale did. not. move. one. pound. I stood there completely dumbfounded as to how this could be true. Was I bloated? Retaining water? Carrying a fetus inside my vacant and non-existent uterus? Perhaps I was backed up and carrying 10 pounds of poop inside my intestines? Because there is NO WAY I worked this hard to stall out now. So after I kicked the scale across the room, threw it back in the drawer, threw a temper tantrum, cried to my mommy and vowed never to work out again, I came to my senses.
I mean, so what if I didn’t lose 100 pounds in 6 months? I am still in a better place now than I have ever been in my life. I am happier and healthier and doing things I never thought would be possible. Like completing my first 5k on September 11, 2010. Look, I swear, I did it!
I walked/ran it and it was incredible! I’m taking water aerobics and yoga and hiking and running and these are things I never could have done six months ago. The rest of the weight will fall off, of this I am certain, and I need to take a step back and remember how far I have come on this long and winding journey. I'm gonna stop crying, put on my big girl panties and deal with this in the best way I know how.....by moving forward. And running over the stupid scale in my driveway.
Now, this hasn’t been all sunshine and roses, just to be clear. Besides the weight loss setbacks, I have experienced everything from “dumping syndrome” to constant nausea to a raging case of hemorrhoids, but it has all been worth it to look in the mirror and begin to like what I see. The struggles I have with food and wanting to eat to satisfy my emotional needs is lessening everyday. The sweet-baby-jesus-and-holy-mother-of-mary hot flashes are still controlling my life, but at least I’m not eating my way through the day anymore. And whereas before I used to mourn the loss of food and eating whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, I am learning to embrace the idea that we eat to live, rather than live to eat. It’s all very eye opening and enlightening and all that spiritual crap that people say that makes you want to smack them while you sit there happily eating a cake roll.
So, new goal…..
For my one year “birthday” my goal is to be confident enough in what I have achieved to post a before and after pic along with my actual starting weight and my present weight. I was thinking of a tastefully artsy nudie pic for your entertainment, but until I learn how to airbrush out my stretch marks and cellulite and make myself look like Demi Moore in Striptease, that ain’t gonna happen.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
What I did on my summer vacation.....
What a crazy roller coaster of a ride this summer has been. It's been loops and turns and a little bit of vomit, but when it finally came to an end, and I had regained my sense of balance, I shouted "WHOO HOO, WHAT A RIDE! LET'S DO IT AGAIN!" We celebrated so many blessings this summer, that I leave the warm weather behind with a heart ten times bigger than when the summer began, feeling like I truly got to enjoy the time spent with the people I love.
Friday August 13, 2010 marked a new beginning in the birth of my newest nephew, Mason Christoper Reeves. He breathed life into our family, brought us closer, and stole my heart. He is perfection in Pampers! No, serioulsy, look....
.JPG)
We also celebrated the birth of our newest niece (compliments of my step-sister!) this past July. Welcome to the world and our crazy family Ms. Abby Tubiolo! She is perfect and gorgeous and now Mason will have a playmate his own age!
A few weeks ago, my mom and step father came home for a visit and for the wedding and it just felt like everything was right with the world for a little while. This past weekend was a whirlwind of family and love and marriage and monumental moments. And when I say whirlwind, I mean that quite literally as we faced 35mph winds and impending storms! On September 4, 2010 my baby sister married her soulmate. It was so surreal to stand at the alter I had once gotten married at and see my little sister walk down the aisle, gripping onto my fathers arm, to become someones wife. But when I looked over at her groom, and remembered what a wonderful and honorable man he is, I felt a sense of relief wash over me because I know that he will take good care of her. I will always have this built in need to protect her from the world, but I have to pass the baton to him now and allow him to be her world. Not an easy task by any means. I almost feel like a mother giving away her daughter and it still makes me very emotional. This marks another new beginning that I was witness to, and I am honored to congratulate the new Mr. and Mrs. Carl Motz.
The day after the wedding, we got to celebrate my grandmothers 85th birthday. It didn't come without its fair share of family drama, but what do you expect from a family as large as ours? The first pic is of my grandmother and her 11 children. That's right...11 children. She was a busy woman! The second is a pic of grandma with most of her grandchildren. Yes, most. You look at the pic and say WHOA! and then remember we are still missing a couple handfuls. The third, is my grandma with most of her great children. This is not a joke people. We are seriously all related. And despite the drama, no one got hit or run over so all in all it was a Grade A day.
And now, nothing signifies the end of summer like the first day of school. I am giddy with excitement at the prospect of getting some peace and quiet, being able to grocery shop without two hungry gremlins on my heels, and being able to go out for a run without dragging along two kids who are distracted by the sight of friends riding past on bikes or the distant sounds of the ice cream truck. Hopefully, soon I will find a job so I can return to the real world, put on heels, dress up in something other than yoga pants and t-shirts, and be a big girl again. The summer was full of new beginnings, and the fall is full of new possibilities and I cherish and look forward to them all.
But be warned! With all this new time on my hands, you are sure to be inundated with my crazy thoughts, experiences, and ramblings once again. I'm back baby! My pooping schedule can return to normal, you can hear about my weight woes and yays, and laugh at my random blogging about stupid drivers and people who just generally annoy and amuse me.
Buckle your seatbelts, strap on your helmets, put your purse between your legs and slap on an adult diaper if you have a weak bladder and get ready for the ride!
Friday August 13, 2010 marked a new beginning in the birth of my newest nephew, Mason Christoper Reeves. He breathed life into our family, brought us closer, and stole my heart. He is perfection in Pampers! No, serioulsy, look....
.JPG)
We also celebrated the birth of our newest niece (compliments of my step-sister!) this past July. Welcome to the world and our crazy family Ms. Abby Tubiolo! She is perfect and gorgeous and now Mason will have a playmate his own age!
A few weeks ago, my mom and step father came home for a visit and for the wedding and it just felt like everything was right with the world for a little while. This past weekend was a whirlwind of family and love and marriage and monumental moments. And when I say whirlwind, I mean that quite literally as we faced 35mph winds and impending storms! On September 4, 2010 my baby sister married her soulmate. It was so surreal to stand at the alter I had once gotten married at and see my little sister walk down the aisle, gripping onto my fathers arm, to become someones wife. But when I looked over at her groom, and remembered what a wonderful and honorable man he is, I felt a sense of relief wash over me because I know that he will take good care of her. I will always have this built in need to protect her from the world, but I have to pass the baton to him now and allow him to be her world. Not an easy task by any means. I almost feel like a mother giving away her daughter and it still makes me very emotional. This marks another new beginning that I was witness to, and I am honored to congratulate the new Mr. and Mrs. Carl Motz.
The day after the wedding, we got to celebrate my grandmothers 85th birthday. It didn't come without its fair share of family drama, but what do you expect from a family as large as ours? The first pic is of my grandmother and her 11 children. That's right...11 children. She was a busy woman! The second is a pic of grandma with most of her grandchildren. Yes, most. You look at the pic and say WHOA! and then remember we are still missing a couple handfuls. The third, is my grandma with most of her great children. This is not a joke people. We are seriously all related. And despite the drama, no one got hit or run over so all in all it was a Grade A day.
And now, nothing signifies the end of summer like the first day of school. I am giddy with excitement at the prospect of getting some peace and quiet, being able to grocery shop without two hungry gremlins on my heels, and being able to go out for a run without dragging along two kids who are distracted by the sight of friends riding past on bikes or the distant sounds of the ice cream truck. Hopefully, soon I will find a job so I can return to the real world, put on heels, dress up in something other than yoga pants and t-shirts, and be a big girl again. The summer was full of new beginnings, and the fall is full of new possibilities and I cherish and look forward to them all.
But be warned! With all this new time on my hands, you are sure to be inundated with my crazy thoughts, experiences, and ramblings once again. I'm back baby! My pooping schedule can return to normal, you can hear about my weight woes and yays, and laugh at my random blogging about stupid drivers and people who just generally annoy and amuse me.
Buckle your seatbelts, strap on your helmets, put your purse between your legs and slap on an adult diaper if you have a weak bladder and get ready for the ride!
Monday, August 23, 2010
I am like the absentee mother who left her blog in the car on a really hot day. It should be taken away from me until I start to pay attention to it and fulfill my obligations as a blogger. But alas, there are no blogger police and I would spank myself for my negligence but I'm afraid I might like it and then we'd end up right back where we started.
There is SO much going on right now and I don't have the time to write it all because I have a meatloaf in the oven and a football practice for my son in an hour, but I wanted to memorialize this moment in my blogging history before an epic event happens. To date, 5 months post gastric bypass, I have lost....
Drumroll, please.....
90 POUNDS.
Which means I am 10 pounds away from my first goal of 100 pounds.
No, seriously.
Sounds obscene, right?
I have lost a small teenager. How fantastic and yet disturbing is that? I feel like a whole new person. I am still running, and while I can't yet run a 5K, I am signed up for one in a couple of weeks. I don't care if they have to drag my lifeless corpse over the finish line, I will complete it.
So, before the meatloaf burns and my son has to run a gazillion laps for being late to practice, let me write a short synopsis of my life right now, and I promise to elaborate on the details later in the week:
My mom is visiting from AZ for three weeks and all is right with the world.
My sister had her baby on Friday the 13th and he is the most perfect baby EVER, and I am totally in love :)
My baby sister is getting married in 11 days and her bachelorette party is this weekend so I have total "what am I going to wear" ADD.
My sons first football game of the season is this coming weekend. The day AFTER the bachelorette party. This is NOT going to be good.
The kids go back to school in 2 weeks. Thank you sweet baby Jesus.
I am applying for jobs like a maniac and had a super interview today for a great job that I have a real shot at.
Hopefully, this gives you some insight into the craziness that is my life and wins me some sympathy so you don't abandon me for someone who actually blogs on a regular basis.
Oh, and here is me MINUS 90 pounds:
There is SO much going on right now and I don't have the time to write it all because I have a meatloaf in the oven and a football practice for my son in an hour, but I wanted to memorialize this moment in my blogging history before an epic event happens. To date, 5 months post gastric bypass, I have lost....
Drumroll, please.....
90 POUNDS.
Which means I am 10 pounds away from my first goal of 100 pounds.
No, seriously.
Sounds obscene, right?
I have lost a small teenager. How fantastic and yet disturbing is that? I feel like a whole new person. I am still running, and while I can't yet run a 5K, I am signed up for one in a couple of weeks. I don't care if they have to drag my lifeless corpse over the finish line, I will complete it.
So, before the meatloaf burns and my son has to run a gazillion laps for being late to practice, let me write a short synopsis of my life right now, and I promise to elaborate on the details later in the week:
My mom is visiting from AZ for three weeks and all is right with the world.
My sister had her baby on Friday the 13th and he is the most perfect baby EVER, and I am totally in love :)
My baby sister is getting married in 11 days and her bachelorette party is this weekend so I have total "what am I going to wear" ADD.
My sons first football game of the season is this coming weekend. The day AFTER the bachelorette party. This is NOT going to be good.
The kids go back to school in 2 weeks. Thank you sweet baby Jesus.
I am applying for jobs like a maniac and had a super interview today for a great job that I have a real shot at.
Hopefully, this gives you some insight into the craziness that is my life and wins me some sympathy so you don't abandon me for someone who actually blogs on a regular basis.
Oh, and here is me MINUS 90 pounds:
If you need something to do until I get back, feel free to look back through my blog at old pictures and point and laugh. Until next time....
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Thinking Thin Mantra #8...Part Deux
Do you need it? Or do you want it? There’s a big difference.
I wasn't sure what I was going to write as Part 2 of this blog, until this past weekend. Then it all came crashing down and I got smacked in the face by reality harder than a $2 ho gets smacked by her pimp on a $5 night. I had my first (and hopefully only) ambulance ride. And FYI, the EMT's were NOT hot, they didn't rip my shirt open like on ER to get good "breath sounds" and when we pulled up to the ER door, there were no interns with rock hard abs and lustful misery in their eyes waiting for me. Total rip off.
Saturday morning started out great. I woke up so happy because I had family coming out to spend the weekend. We were going to have a picnic at Letchworth State Park and hike and take pictures. It was all going to be very Swiss Family Robinson and shit. I remember at one point, I got up to go to the kitchen and I had a slight pain in my belly. I ignored, as I often do, and just figured I moved wrong or ate too fast. When the family arrived and we headed to the park, I noticed it was getting a little worse. I still ignored it because apparently I am a RETARD. Once we ate lunch, I was in quite a bit of pain. And, knowing that I should listen to my body and perhaps rest, what did I do next? Logically, I went hiking of course! Not the smartest idea I had all day. By the time we were finished with our expedition, we were sweaty and sticky, took lots of tacky tourist-y pictures, were sick of listening to kids scream and I was in utter, and complete agony.
We got home and I changed into comfy clothes because I was sure this would solve everything. Within a half hours time I was writhing in pain on the couch screaming as if a 10 pound turd were going to shoot out of my ass at any minute. The pain was like someone had taken my guts in both hands and was twisting it in opposite directions. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move and all I wanted at that moment was death, sweet peaceful death. Let me say this, I have NEVER in my life even CONSIDERED calling an ambulance and I have gone through some painful shit in my life. But when my husband asked if he should call the ambulance that day it was everything I could do not to scream through clenched and shivering teeth, "YES, PLEASE FUCK JESUS CHRIST CALL THE GODDAMNED AMBULANCE!!!!". I don't even remember half of this ordeal, it hurt that bad. I do remember the two volunteer EMT's who smelled like they just came from a cow tipping contest or a rodeo of sorts putting me on the stretcher and then DROPPING ME three feet to the ground. This was NOT going well.
The hospital I was forced to go to has been mocked, sensationalized and told to be one of the WORST hospitals ever, and it surely lived up to its reputation. They left me in a room, with some half assed pain killer, for almost three hours before taking me up for a CT Scan. No one came in to check on me, take vitals, see if I needed a blanket, or even make sure I was still alive. If surgery were needed, I would have been better off letting my husband perform it with a rusty coat hanger and some Tylenol. Finally, they came in after the scan (and after my husband almost ripped the nurses bell OFF of the wall and tore them a new asshole) and gave me drugs that knocked me out. For about 20 minutes. Then just as the pain kicked back in, the persnickety and almost unintelligable on call doctor came in and said the CT scan was fine, here are some Darvocet for the pain, and have a nice life you dumb bitch. Well, without the "dumb bitch" part but it was implied.
I got home and slept. And slept. And then slept some more. Over the next couple days of resting the pain was subsiding. To this day, we still aren't sure exactly what happened. My regular doctor that I saw Monday morning says more than likely I overdid it and pulled a muscle at the abdominal incision site. It happens apparently when you are a maniac who never slows down. Or listens to your body. Or tries to run and exercise like you are 100 pounds lighter and 20 years younger.
The moral of the story is this. You can't always get what you want. For me, I WANT to be a runner in the worst way. I WANT to finish losing this weight ASAP and be thin and fit. But what I NEED is to realize it isn't going to happen overnight, and that by pushing my body beyond its physical limits, I am only going to deter my progress and possibly cause damage that I won't be able to reverse. I WANT to finish this 5k next month stronger than I have ever been, but I NEED to remember that the fact that I am doing it at all is something greater than I ever thought I would even be capable of doing.
Sometimes getting what you WANT without listening to what your body NEEDS only lands you flat on your ass, doped up on pain killers, missing out on life.
I wasn't sure what I was going to write as Part 2 of this blog, until this past weekend. Then it all came crashing down and I got smacked in the face by reality harder than a $2 ho gets smacked by her pimp on a $5 night. I had my first (and hopefully only) ambulance ride. And FYI, the EMT's were NOT hot, they didn't rip my shirt open like on ER to get good "breath sounds" and when we pulled up to the ER door, there were no interns with rock hard abs and lustful misery in their eyes waiting for me. Total rip off.
Saturday morning started out great. I woke up so happy because I had family coming out to spend the weekend. We were going to have a picnic at Letchworth State Park and hike and take pictures. It was all going to be very Swiss Family Robinson and shit. I remember at one point, I got up to go to the kitchen and I had a slight pain in my belly. I ignored, as I often do, and just figured I moved wrong or ate too fast. When the family arrived and we headed to the park, I noticed it was getting a little worse. I still ignored it because apparently I am a RETARD. Once we ate lunch, I was in quite a bit of pain. And, knowing that I should listen to my body and perhaps rest, what did I do next? Logically, I went hiking of course! Not the smartest idea I had all day. By the time we were finished with our expedition, we were sweaty and sticky, took lots of tacky tourist-y pictures, were sick of listening to kids scream and I was in utter, and complete agony.
We got home and I changed into comfy clothes because I was sure this would solve everything. Within a half hours time I was writhing in pain on the couch screaming as if a 10 pound turd were going to shoot out of my ass at any minute. The pain was like someone had taken my guts in both hands and was twisting it in opposite directions. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move and all I wanted at that moment was death, sweet peaceful death. Let me say this, I have NEVER in my life even CONSIDERED calling an ambulance and I have gone through some painful shit in my life. But when my husband asked if he should call the ambulance that day it was everything I could do not to scream through clenched and shivering teeth, "YES, PLEASE FUCK JESUS CHRIST CALL THE GODDAMNED AMBULANCE!!!!". I don't even remember half of this ordeal, it hurt that bad. I do remember the two volunteer EMT's who smelled like they just came from a cow tipping contest or a rodeo of sorts putting me on the stretcher and then DROPPING ME three feet to the ground. This was NOT going well.
The hospital I was forced to go to has been mocked, sensationalized and told to be one of the WORST hospitals ever, and it surely lived up to its reputation. They left me in a room, with some half assed pain killer, for almost three hours before taking me up for a CT Scan. No one came in to check on me, take vitals, see if I needed a blanket, or even make sure I was still alive. If surgery were needed, I would have been better off letting my husband perform it with a rusty coat hanger and some Tylenol. Finally, they came in after the scan (and after my husband almost ripped the nurses bell OFF of the wall and tore them a new asshole) and gave me drugs that knocked me out. For about 20 minutes. Then just as the pain kicked back in, the persnickety and almost unintelligable on call doctor came in and said the CT scan was fine, here are some Darvocet for the pain, and have a nice life you dumb bitch. Well, without the "dumb bitch" part but it was implied.
I got home and slept. And slept. And then slept some more. Over the next couple days of resting the pain was subsiding. To this day, we still aren't sure exactly what happened. My regular doctor that I saw Monday morning says more than likely I overdid it and pulled a muscle at the abdominal incision site. It happens apparently when you are a maniac who never slows down. Or listens to your body. Or tries to run and exercise like you are 100 pounds lighter and 20 years younger.
The moral of the story is this. You can't always get what you want. For me, I WANT to be a runner in the worst way. I WANT to finish losing this weight ASAP and be thin and fit. But what I NEED is to realize it isn't going to happen overnight, and that by pushing my body beyond its physical limits, I am only going to deter my progress and possibly cause damage that I won't be able to reverse. I WANT to finish this 5k next month stronger than I have ever been, but I NEED to remember that the fact that I am doing it at all is something greater than I ever thought I would even be capable of doing.
Sometimes getting what you WANT without listening to what your body NEEDS only lands you flat on your ass, doped up on pain killers, missing out on life.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Thinking Thin Mantra #8...and other things...
Thinking thin Mantra #8:
Do you need it? Or do you want it? There’s a big difference.
Part 1 of a 2 part series....
This statement can pertain to OH SO MANY THINGS....but for the sake of keeping my ADD in check, and keeping this PG Rated, let's say it pertains to my new lifestyle.
I want to warn you that I am about to whine about something completely ridiculous and unnecessary, but it has to be done. I used to have a closet full of clothes that would rival Christian Dior. I had more clothes than I could even keep out at one time. Twice a year, I had to pack away one set of clothes to make room for entire bins full of other clothes. I had two dressers and an oversized closet full of kick ass jeans, gorgeous sweaters and blouses and items I forgot I even bought that still had tags attached. Granted, they were all 10 sizes bigger than I am now, but I was pretty rockin' for a fat chick. I no longer own a single remnant of that life. It has all been sold, donated or given to friends. I have been reduced to ONE closet that now houses everything I own and empty dresser drawers. No sooner do I buy new clothes than I grow out of them and need new ones. I have become the exact person I used to scoff at. I am the mom grocery shopping in my running sneakers, yoga pants and t-shirts that are too big. I can't even bring myself to buy things most of the time, because I know as soon as I love them and get attached to them, I will have to give them away. I am sure there are women all over the world reading this right now wanting to drop kick me in the spleen for complaining about losing too much weight, but if you only knew how much I LOVE my clothes, you would understand.
This is where the want vs. need mantra comes into play. I WANT new clothes because I NEED new clothes, but I cannot keep throwing money away on things that I don't get use out of. I become emotionally attached to a good pair of jeans that hug my smaller ass or a sweater that makes my stomach look flatter than it really is, and to give it up before our affair is over just seems sad and wrong on so many levels. And that makes me so much more impatient about getting to my goal weight so I can re-stock my wardrobe and feel whole again. I realize losing 80 pounds in 4.5 months is a pretty big deal, but I wish I had a fast forward button that would take me to the end of this journey and to the front door of the nearest shopping mall.
I am trying to remind myself that it is important to remember each and every day of this journey I am on so that I don't end up back at square one, but fall trends are out and I am jonesing for a shopping spree. Even my shoes have gotten too big and to giving them up is like giving away a child, or an appendage. It is painful and filled with teary eyed sadness. There was a moment recently when I sold my very favorite shoes EVER on eBay, before I even got to wear them, and I swear I sat in my room with them on my feet for a good 10 minutes before I was able to put them in the box and ship them off. Goodbye my high heeled friend, it was nice knowing you.
I guess the opposite side of this situation is that there are SO MANY more options out there for regular sized clothes. I mean, the websites and sales never end and this could be a really scary thing. I definitely need to go back to work....and have my husband build me a bigger closet....and another dresser. I "window shop" online, meaning I fill cart after cart on webpage after webpage, and rack up thousands of dollars worth of wish items that I would like to own, and then I empty them all before I burn a hole in my credit card. Because at this stage in the game, what is the point really?
So tomorrow, part 2 of this post will actually pertain to that for which it was intended...exercise and lifestyle change. But I just had to get this whole clothing thing out in the open because it was emotionally draining me. Everytime I looked in my closet I wanted to cry and go shopping. And if you can't imagine how it is that I could have outgrown everything I owned in 4 months, let me just show you this:
Craziness, right?
Do you need it? Or do you want it? There’s a big difference.
Part 1 of a 2 part series....
This statement can pertain to OH SO MANY THINGS....but for the sake of keeping my ADD in check, and keeping this PG Rated, let's say it pertains to my new lifestyle.
I want to warn you that I am about to whine about something completely ridiculous and unnecessary, but it has to be done. I used to have a closet full of clothes that would rival Christian Dior. I had more clothes than I could even keep out at one time. Twice a year, I had to pack away one set of clothes to make room for entire bins full of other clothes. I had two dressers and an oversized closet full of kick ass jeans, gorgeous sweaters and blouses and items I forgot I even bought that still had tags attached. Granted, they were all 10 sizes bigger than I am now, but I was pretty rockin' for a fat chick. I no longer own a single remnant of that life. It has all been sold, donated or given to friends. I have been reduced to ONE closet that now houses everything I own and empty dresser drawers. No sooner do I buy new clothes than I grow out of them and need new ones. I have become the exact person I used to scoff at. I am the mom grocery shopping in my running sneakers, yoga pants and t-shirts that are too big. I can't even bring myself to buy things most of the time, because I know as soon as I love them and get attached to them, I will have to give them away. I am sure there are women all over the world reading this right now wanting to drop kick me in the spleen for complaining about losing too much weight, but if you only knew how much I LOVE my clothes, you would understand.
This is where the want vs. need mantra comes into play. I WANT new clothes because I NEED new clothes, but I cannot keep throwing money away on things that I don't get use out of. I become emotionally attached to a good pair of jeans that hug my smaller ass or a sweater that makes my stomach look flatter than it really is, and to give it up before our affair is over just seems sad and wrong on so many levels. And that makes me so much more impatient about getting to my goal weight so I can re-stock my wardrobe and feel whole again. I realize losing 80 pounds in 4.5 months is a pretty big deal, but I wish I had a fast forward button that would take me to the end of this journey and to the front door of the nearest shopping mall.
I am trying to remind myself that it is important to remember each and every day of this journey I am on so that I don't end up back at square one, but fall trends are out and I am jonesing for a shopping spree. Even my shoes have gotten too big and to giving them up is like giving away a child, or an appendage. It is painful and filled with teary eyed sadness. There was a moment recently when I sold my very favorite shoes EVER on eBay, before I even got to wear them, and I swear I sat in my room with them on my feet for a good 10 minutes before I was able to put them in the box and ship them off. Goodbye my high heeled friend, it was nice knowing you.
I guess the opposite side of this situation is that there are SO MANY more options out there for regular sized clothes. I mean, the websites and sales never end and this could be a really scary thing. I definitely need to go back to work....and have my husband build me a bigger closet....and another dresser. I "window shop" online, meaning I fill cart after cart on webpage after webpage, and rack up thousands of dollars worth of wish items that I would like to own, and then I empty them all before I burn a hole in my credit card. Because at this stage in the game, what is the point really?
So tomorrow, part 2 of this post will actually pertain to that for which it was intended...exercise and lifestyle change. But I just had to get this whole clothing thing out in the open because it was emotionally draining me. Everytime I looked in my closet I wanted to cry and go shopping. And if you can't imagine how it is that I could have outgrown everything I owned in 4 months, let me just show you this:
Craziness, right?
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