Thursday, December 10, 2009

The emotional work is harder than the physical!

I got a scale today. An actual scale. I dont know why it is such an intimidating presence to me. I have seen women weighing themselves every morning and seen how their day would progress from there completely dependent upon the numbers on that scale. I am terrified of being like a lot of the women in my family/life... I am terrified of being the yo-yo dieter. I do not want to have five different sizes in my closet depending on which end of my spectrum I am at. I do not want to be constantly trying the new fad diet. I do not want to know how much weight you can loose eating only cabbage or drinking only juice. I do not want to have a long list of every pill, juice, bar, diet, plan and program that I have tried and tried again and again only to fail. I want to make a LIFE CHANGE. I want to change myself. I want to be healthy and be satisfied with whatever weight my body is healthiest at. If that means I am never under 175 thats fine. If that means I am never under a size 16, thats fine. I just want to be healthy and happy. I want to climb stairs without getting winded. I want to be able to walk briskly for long distances. I want my feet and back and hips to stop hurting.

I had to order a special scale. The first scale i bought from CVS and I was too fat. I was too fat for a normal persons scale. I was more than 350 pounds. So I went to and ordered a special (ie more expensive) scale that could hold up to 440 lbs. In the back of my mind I actually was a little worried. I was in the hospital in May with an infection in my leg. I weighed 416 pounds but that was after a week of vomiting and not eating. I was certain I gained a GOOD bit of weight since then. At least a half a pants size. I went from mostly 28s and some 30s to ALL 30s and some 32s.

So this scale arrives today. I unwrapped it with trepidation. What if I am too fat for this one? What if I am more than 440 lbs? I am certain that I am more than 416...

The thing is, I have not weighed myself for YEARS. I have ACTIVELY avoided a scale for at least ten years. I just didn't want to know.

I am so terrified of becoming obsessed. Of being obsessed with those numbers... Of being obsessed with the number I have lost or gained every single day. The numbers dont lie. You can suck in your gut or squeeze into your skinny jeans but the numbers dont lie. You can't fool the scale.

I feel like it is judging me. Thats what it is. I have avoided it for YEARS. I have literally had NO IDEA how much I weighed before the hospital or before I started changing my diet. I actively avoided any possible chance of knowing... In fact I claimed 250 lbs on my id or drivers licence or when someone asked me because I had no idea what it really was. I had no basis or perspective in judging my size. I just accepted that I was what I was and moved on.

So I put in the batteries and set it on the ground.

And I stood there looking at it like an idiot.

Just staring it down.

Then I made dinner. A sensible dinner. Grilled chicken and roasted potatoes and broccoli and veggies. But I ate beyond the point of feeling full. I overate a bit and it felt like lead in my stomach. Then I did some laundry. Then I stared at the scale some more.

And then I stepped on it.

425 pounds.

425 fucking pounds.

Why does this feel worse somehow?

Why do I know feel like I am standing at the very bottom of Mount Everest putting on my shoes, staring up at this ENORMOUS mountain before me. But I am not. I am a month in and I the changes I have been making are starting to show. My legs look MUCH different. My boobs are shrinking. My feet and fingers are showing that I am loosing. My pants are looser. I put on my black Lane Bryant pants this week. The ones that I wore when I worked there and was on my feet all day every day. I havent been able to fit into those in a LONG time. I'm walking the 33 acres of the grounds at work without stopping.

425 pounds.

Its a start.

A before.

And it is a looooong road to an after.

But it will be worth it.

I worked out yesterday. For the first time in a loong time. I downloaded a strip aerobics workout. It felt good. I was covered in sweat but felt I accomplished something. I figure these workouts will be fun and they might make me feel a little more sexy. That would be nice. Ive been feeling a bit... well... I dont know. In transition I suppose. Like an unfinished peice of art. Like I want to wear a sign that says dont judge me, I am unfinished. Like I want to bury myself in a hole until I am finished.

The media makes it look so easy. Of course its easy when you don't work. and you have a gym and a trainer in your home. and a camera there to hold you accountable. Or money and a competition to motivate you further. and you dont pass mcdonalds and pizza hut (or Zestos- the ice cream place that has awesome chili dogs and onion rings) on your way to work every day.

yeah... I was craving junk food today. Bad. so I ate a few handfulls of granola. That helped. I feel crazy thinking about food as much as I do.

I dont think I even crave the food so much as I do the comfort it gave. I ate my feelings A LOT. And I ate my boredom even more...but now I need to completely rebuild my relationship with food. THAT is the hardest part. It's that the way I look at food in general was fucked up. I need to completely demolish those bad habits...that dysfunctional relationship and build a new one. A healthy one. A relationship that is mutually nurturing and benefitial.

But I think the body image stuff is the most troubling. I looked at the world through such a skewed looking glass. Like I saw myself as normal and the rest of the world as odd. But more importantly, I didnt really see how big I had gotten until I did. Like one day I woke up and the glasses I had been looking through were gone. I suddenly saw reality and not the funhouse mirror. Its a hard transition. Im struggling to hold on to the confidence that I had. I'm having a hard time with that confidence factor.

I bought a sweatshirt from walmart last week in a 5x. I have worn it around the house like EVERY day. I am hiding in it. Its huge on me which feels good. Its warm and comfy but I like it so much because it hides me.

I never expected this to bring up so much emotion. I never thought that me making this decision, this change would require so much work on the inside. I was ready for the outside changes, but this inside stuff is hard!

1 comment:

  1. First step. Hide your fucking scale. It's a violent, evil contraption and it will only depress you. Hide it for two weeks, but keep tracking your calories, points, or whatever you use, keep up your exercise.
    Avoid it for two weeks, don't even think about it. Then get on. And the scale won't lie but it wont be the every day did I lose any omg no I didn't what happened im a failure neurotic mess we all get like.

    I put mine away today. I felt... liberated.