Yesterday, I was told by my very dear friend that I am being far too hard on myself with some of the things I have written in this blog. I put this out there for public consumption mainly because I do enjoy the feedback and NEED the support in order to make me accountable for this journey I have decided to share. Even though right now, it's only close friends and family that are reading these entries, you never know who else down the road might become a follower and they too might have an opinion or two on the content so I take all feedback to heart.
I thought about my friend's comment for a long while and went back and re-read some posts thinking maybe I sounded like a huge downer or pessimist about this whole thing which is NOT the message I want to send across and really isn't how I feel about this weight loss process (this time) at all. I know it's going to be hard and probably relatively slow going, but I feel more confident than I ever have that this is the time it will happen all the way and I will lose it for good!
After reading over the posts, I realized that everything I have written thus far is truly from my heart and gut so to speak. Yes, I may have put myself up on the whipping post a few times but it's the way I feel and I wouldn't have wanted to express myself in any other way. Granted, I try to add the occasional dash of humor because without it, I'd have probably thrown myself under a bus long ago. Weight loss is hard and can be a very lonely, humiliating and frustrating battle. I've cried many times over being fat, sometimes publicly with friends and very often, privately when most of my friends had no idea I was even upset about it. It was always very ironic to me when I was told I was "the most confident person they knew". The subject of weight loss has been a constant theme in my life since I was an early teenager and at age 37, much like Oprah, I can't believe I am still talking about it at this stage in my life. I have yet to win this battle.
As I mentioned in an earlier post, I used to possess much more outward confidence regarding my weight. I've certainly never been ostracized by friends because of being heavy - it's always been quite the opposite. I've been blessed with many many friends, all who have accepted me as I am. My family, although I know they love me has not always been the most supportive or understanding concerning my weight. Comments about my appearance, especially from my family sting like peroxide on a hemorrhoid (not that I know first hand what that feels like but my dad claims his neighbor did it and almost flew to the moon from the pain). My mom, bless her heart, thinks she is doing me some sort of favor by pointing out when she notices I am gaining weight. Her seemingly favorite comment is to tell me that I am getting my "shelf" back (please note: this is not in any way related to bringinng "sexy" back, just so we're clear). It's apparently her "polite" reference to the hump that juts out just below my lower lumbar and hovers right above my ass on which I could probably balance a pizza box, or at the very least a six-pack. This area seems to expand first whenever there is any sort of weight gain for me and my mom is never one to miss pointing it out, as if I'm not aware that I have a huge Quasimodo suddenly residing above my butt crack. Hello?
Hearing what I already know is true doesn't do me any favors nor does it motivate me to do something about it. For the most part, it just hurts my feelings and then really pisses me off.
The roller coaster ride depicting my weight gains and losses have been witnessed by friends and family alike but for a major portion of my life many have only known me in various states of fatness. I myself don't remember what it's like to feel thin or normal, as I have never had a skinny adult phase. My last "skinny" phase was me at 190 lbs, still 60 lbs away from actually being in some sort of recommended weight range.
Being 190 lbs still doesn't let you shop in a regular clothing store or dissolve you of clinging to the security of girdle when you put on a dress, or prevent you from dying of embarrassment when the Dorney Park ride attendant has to help you onto the Paratrooper because you're too short and too fat to pull yourself up onto the ride. It also doesn't stop asshole teenagers yelling "fat ass" out of their car window while driving by as you're bent over looking for something in your back seat with you butt exposed to the street. And it certainly doesn't cause you to stop blaming your body for rejection from the opposite sex.
190 lbs may have been my lowest weight, but it was by no means a low weight.
There is a part of me that thinks if you haven't walked in a fat person's wide width shoes you may not quite get where I am coming from. It's hard to relate, much like it would be if you were trying to sympathize with someone who has another type of disease (cancer, anorexia, MS, alcoholism - you name it) and you've never experienced it yourself. You can certainly offer support, which is always welcome but sometimes advice from a thin person on how to lose weight (unless they are a success story themselves) can be difficult to swallow. Everyone has moments when they are uncomfortable in their own skin but when you are overweight, it's a constant consciousness. It seems you're always standing with your hands in front of your stomach, or yanking down your shirt that constantly rides up, or feeling your waistband dig into your skin, reminding you just how uncomfortable you are. It's always there. I don't know how to explain well enough what it's like living inside this fat person shell, knowing there is a different woman inside begging to come out. How can I explain what a bizarre perception it is, feeling that the person you are portraying to the world isn't really the real you? There are so many other examples I could list of situations where I was uncomfortable about my weight or my weight inhibited me from doing something I really wanted to do. Dancing, skiing, hiking....The list is endless. A good portion of my life has been spent covering up my insecurities and putting my best face forward but that gets tiring after having to practice it years on end and I'd like to just be able to know what it feels like to be freed of this shell, expose that fabulous woman inside and see how she does on her own.
So, at the end of the day, am I being too hard on myself? Some may think so but my belief is this: If I don't give myself the old bitch slap every now and again I won't keep myself in line. I know this about myself . I'm OK with using myself as a punching bag as long as it motivates me to keep on track and make sure I don't ever have to end up belly-aching about the same shit I'm writing about here in the future. I have fallen off this wagon so many times it's amazing I have the strength to keep getting back on. But I do. And this time is the last time.
There's a reason I am sharing my story this time around and have reached out to those of you that are reading this. I WANT to be held accountable. Maybe I never did before but this time I truly feel different. Exposing the ugly side of being overweight isn't a comfortable thing for most people. It's something that we chose to hide behind and for which we make excuses. A lot of excuses.
At age 37 (and 1/2) I may have just run out of excuses.....
Start weight: 231
Current weight: 227
No comments:
Post a Comment