Ah, where to start? Or should I say, restart?
After a long hiatus from my blog, I have decided to return, after some prompting from a good friend. It's true, I have been missing the therapeutic tap, tap, tap of the keyboard as I pour my thoughts, ideas and random yadda yadda yaddas out into cyber space. But now that the wedding is over, I wondered if I'd still have anything to say?
Then I realized that when I began my blog, the sole motivation for doing it was to lose weight FOR the wedding......
Take a look at the picture to the left. Does it LOOK like that happened?
Uh, not so much.
Somewhere between July & October, I must have forgotten that I was on a diet. I remember the moment when it all started going south - July 9 to be exact when Josh and I threw our "Wedding Party" party and the non-stop bombardment of festivities began and lasted right through the wedding (and let's be honest, well beyond the wedding, too.....).
While I loved my dress and felt great in it, the cleavage it produced went all the up to my neck (especially when I sat down - I was literally almost suffocated by my own boobs) and my upper arms the size of beef briskets that it did not hide, was not the vision I held of what I would look like on my wedding day....and yet....there it was. Or, should I say, there I am.....
When I think back to the wedding day, there isn't a single regret other than my weight. My sister said it would happen and in my heart of hearts, I knew it would be true. The day itself and all surrounding details was probably the closest thing to perfection that I will ever experience in my lifetime. The weather was beautiful, everyone was happy (well, almost everyone - more on that later)... but all in all, it was a most glorious day and I could not have asked for more.
I married my best friend, and as I mentioned in a previous post that no matter what my size on that day, the most important thing was that Josh and I were saying I do.....
And it was.
And trust me when I say, my weight didn't deter me from having the most amazing day. If the reception proves anything, it's that fat girls can still move. For nearly 4 hours straight. It took my knees 2 MRI's and several months to recover - but my wedding video will surely attest that dancing was not a problem that day.
The problem isn't what happened on the wedding day. It's what happened after.
If I think I lost sight of goals and slipped BEFORE the wedding....I cannot begin to describe the food carnage that has been going on SINCE the wedding.
Double chin and size 18 jeans, welcome back. It is NOT good to see you, however, I can't blame anyone but myself for your presence. Apparently I told you to come by the way of sending you repeated chocolate cake and pizza invitations.
So, I've been depressed over this....probably more that I have let on to anyone. You know how you feel when you make a promise to yourself and you break it? I can tell you - you feel like shit.
And you get angry... a lot. Angry when it winds you just to tie your shoes. Angry when your boobs and stomach are capable of beeping the car horn (when you lean over to adjust the radio). Angry when your clothes don't fit and you resort to your husbands sweatshirts for your daily wardrobe. Angry when you look back at your Weight Watchers log from last year and see that once upon a time, you got under 200 lbs which was a HUGE deal to you and you vowed to yourself you'd NEVER let yourself go above that number again). Angry that your favorite past time has become cooking and you adhere to Paula Deen's theory that everything tastes better with butter. And angry that now you have to start ALL OVER AGAIN and all of that hard work you did last year? You tossed it in the shitter and flushed it into oblivion.....
It is really hard to start over. I think firstly, because you have to admit defeat. I mean, I am truthfully deathly afraid to step on the scale. I know without a doubt I am right back to where I was this time last year - which means I am probably hovering at the 230 mark.
I know this because certain pants no longer button and certain chins show up in every damn picture, no matter what angle I hold my head. I know because of the way I FEEL....I remember this feeling. A year does not wipe away the memory of what "rolypoly" feel like. So it's kind of amazing that even though I know what it felt like, I still allowed myself to get back there.
And, since this is obviously not my first rodeo, I know I need to give myself this tiny pissed off period and then just pick myself up by the bootstraps and switch gears - hard.
I need to tell myself to knock off the juvenile pity party and get to work. After all, I know it can be done. And this year, I don't have the stress of the wedding to worry about - although I do have the the big 4-Oh-My God to look forward to at the end of the year.....why I just reminded myself of that unfavorable fact, I'll never know.
And most importantly - I have ammunition to fight.....in the way of spousal support, exercise equipment and a body that isn't wheelchair bound - and that's a start. I really have absolutely no reason not to do this.
Oh, and did I mention I have about 3 bags of grapefruit in the fridge?
Now, if I could just get up the balls to throw away the homemade chocolate chip cookies.......
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