Lately, my weight's really been getting me down. Oh, I gained a little of the weight back during the summer-- maybe about 10lbs. But it wasn't until I went back to work that it really flew back on. I felt so powerless, walking by that mirror each morning, avoiding my eyes as I brushed my teeth. I didn't want to actually see what I was feeling, what I knew was happening.
First, it was the suspicion that my stomach was rounding out. I took a pregnancy test, hoping that that would be the easy answer (not that I wanted a baby--that would have presented a whole other bucket o' problems for me). With the negative reading, I had to admit that I was just plain gaining weight and, for some reason, just in my stomach. My pants were still fitting around my legs but the waist band was marking up my belly. My bras did the same under my breasts and around my back, even the bras I still had from my heavier days.
One day, after lunch with some coworkers, I went to the bathroom and I finally saw it. My stomach round and firm like a 6-month pregnant belly. When did that happen? How did that happen? It just didn't make sense and it scared me.
But, on Friday, while brushing my teeth, I allowed my eyes to run over my face. The cause for the pull that I'd been feeling stared back at me. My double chin had returned nearly two-fold. My beauty became buried in the bulge at the bottom of my face. That gorgeous woman, the one from just 5 months ago, no longer exists. She's floundering in the fat pool and she doesn't know how to get out.
It's depressing me. Even with all my other problems-- money, house, family, son, work, stress, dreams, etc, nothing is making me feel worse than the reflection in the mirror, the vanishment of my accomplishment. I have fallen waaaaaaaay off, not just a little but a lot. I've fallen down the chute, back to the beginning, and I'm looking for the ladder. No, not true. I'm not looking. I guess, I'm afraid of even trying again, of getting so far in the game and enjoying myself, only to fall back down to start. This is my second time in 6 years getting down to 228lbs then gaining back the weight. When will I see the 100s? When will I learn how to take off the weight and to keep it off? Why do I keep doing this to myself?
I hate this cycle.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Breaking Up is Hard to Do
Weeeeeeelllll.....not really. I've often been told that I'm heartless. Truth is, I'm not; I just don't know what love is (I think we talked about why in an earlier post).
Anyway, I did it; I finally did it. I broke up with McDonald's.
Yesterday, on our lunch date, I held his crispy golden goodness between my lips and mentally whispered, "Goodbye". I felt our parting in every greasy pore of my being. My soul spoke to me, comforted me, as I thought about the fat-filled reflection of my bathroom mirror. In it, my chin hung low, pulling on my cheeks, giving my face the countenance of Droopy. Before my eyes flashed another image, a picture of me just 5 months ago, beaming a 1000-watt smile, double chin all but gone, the result of months of hard work.
Fast forward to October and it is not the double chin that is gone but all of my hard work and my pride and my confidence and my self-esteem and my ability to fit into my bras and my clothes. Those 40lbs I lost this year have been found. I no longer need to put out an APB but an H-I-T for those pounds. I want them gone. I'm watching my friends, who were inspired by my weight loss, achieve the success I had, the success I want back. And they look GOOD. I no longer do.
I can't find my face in the fat. And, yet, I'm still not motivated enough to get to work. Judging by how fast I regained the weight, I've come to realize that what held true before no longer does. Before, it wasn't the food I ate. Not really. Now it is. Since going back to work in August, especially during the whole 2 weeks of work in October, I've eaten at McDonald's nearly every single day-- 10 pc Chicken Nuggets, medium fry, and a medium sweet ice tea. I've barely exercised. I'm stressed out about the amount of work. My son's failing school. I don't really make enough money to live on my own but I have to live on my own (my rent takes up one whole paycheck). And all this weight is filling out my face and my stomach. I look pregnant. I, seriously, look pregnant. Self-esteem crusher. I have dreams deferred and I am so stressed I don't know what to do.
I know there are other people out there feeling like or who have felt like me. I know I can't be the only one in this great big world. And I know, in the scheme of things, my problems are quite small but still, for me, they are problems. I need solutions. So my first order of business was to break up with McDonald's. And, truth be told, I felt relieved to have made that decision. It's a step in the right direction.
Anyway, I did it; I finally did it. I broke up with McDonald's.
Yesterday, on our lunch date, I held his crispy golden goodness between my lips and mentally whispered, "Goodbye". I felt our parting in every greasy pore of my being. My soul spoke to me, comforted me, as I thought about the fat-filled reflection of my bathroom mirror. In it, my chin hung low, pulling on my cheeks, giving my face the countenance of Droopy. Before my eyes flashed another image, a picture of me just 5 months ago, beaming a 1000-watt smile, double chin all but gone, the result of months of hard work.
Fast forward to October and it is not the double chin that is gone but all of my hard work and my pride and my confidence and my self-esteem and my ability to fit into my bras and my clothes. Those 40lbs I lost this year have been found. I no longer need to put out an APB but an H-I-T for those pounds. I want them gone. I'm watching my friends, who were inspired by my weight loss, achieve the success I had, the success I want back. And they look GOOD. I no longer do.
I can't find my face in the fat. And, yet, I'm still not motivated enough to get to work. Judging by how fast I regained the weight, I've come to realize that what held true before no longer does. Before, it wasn't the food I ate. Not really. Now it is. Since going back to work in August, especially during the whole 2 weeks of work in October, I've eaten at McDonald's nearly every single day-- 10 pc Chicken Nuggets, medium fry, and a medium sweet ice tea. I've barely exercised. I'm stressed out about the amount of work. My son's failing school. I don't really make enough money to live on my own but I have to live on my own (my rent takes up one whole paycheck). And all this weight is filling out my face and my stomach. I look pregnant. I, seriously, look pregnant. Self-esteem crusher. I have dreams deferred and I am so stressed I don't know what to do.
I know there are other people out there feeling like or who have felt like me. I know I can't be the only one in this great big world. And I know, in the scheme of things, my problems are quite small but still, for me, they are problems. I need solutions. So my first order of business was to break up with McDonald's. And, truth be told, I felt relieved to have made that decision. It's a step in the right direction.
Hodge Podge & Cactus Huggin'
I don't actually know what I want to talk about in this post. It's been a rough ride for the past two weeks, a constant barrage of bad news and a small (unmentionable) glimmer of good news.
You see, October's usually my month of change; it's usually the time when bad times get good and good times get better. But not this October. This October has been one burden upon my shoulder after another. I got strep throat; I broke up with the boyfriend (who, technically, wasn't my boyfriend anymore anyway); I had an allergic reaction to the Amoxicillin (skin just plain hurt to touch all over); I had to pay a traffic ticket (yeah, it was my fault); I've been late to work 3 times in one week; my son spent an entire weekend retching/feverish; I got into it with my other son's father-- he claimed that I won't "let" him be present in my (yeah I said my) son's life and he thinks he can be a better parent because I just-- I don't want to discuss this any further because the conversation really doesn't merit rehashing (and this was this morning); I hurt my foot, guess I strained a muscle or something on my heel so now I limp a bit-- it's healing, though; I lost my voice; my son's football team was massacred on the field; Mother Nature dropped off her gift two days early; I got into it with my mother; I found a roach in my house; my car is back to drinking anti-freeze fluid like it's kool-aid; my Ladies' Night didn't go off as planned last night; and the list goes on and on and on.
Yep, it's been a pretty crappy October except for a couple of things. One, my family is relatively healthy and, two, we're all alive. Oh, and I, finally, moved into my own apartment and out my mother's house. Those things are certainly praise worthy. There, that helped me put my mind into the right perspective.
I got confirmation I'm on the right road; I just need a little patience. It's going to come together; everything is being put together. I just need to keep doing what I'm doing but to do it better, neater, faster, more efficiently (is that even a correct phrase). Patience, patience, patience. And work. Time to get to writing.
You see, October's usually my month of change; it's usually the time when bad times get good and good times get better. But not this October. This October has been one burden upon my shoulder after another. I got strep throat; I broke up with the boyfriend (who, technically, wasn't my boyfriend anymore anyway); I had an allergic reaction to the Amoxicillin (skin just plain hurt to touch all over); I had to pay a traffic ticket (yeah, it was my fault); I've been late to work 3 times in one week; my son spent an entire weekend retching/feverish; I got into it with my other son's father-- he claimed that I won't "let" him be present in my (yeah I said my) son's life and he thinks he can be a better parent because I just-- I don't want to discuss this any further because the conversation really doesn't merit rehashing (and this was this morning); I hurt my foot, guess I strained a muscle or something on my heel so now I limp a bit-- it's healing, though; I lost my voice; my son's football team was massacred on the field; Mother Nature dropped off her gift two days early; I got into it with my mother; I found a roach in my house; my car is back to drinking anti-freeze fluid like it's kool-aid; my Ladies' Night didn't go off as planned last night; and the list goes on and on and on.
Yep, it's been a pretty crappy October except for a couple of things. One, my family is relatively healthy and, two, we're all alive. Oh, and I, finally, moved into my own apartment and out my mother's house. Those things are certainly praise worthy. There, that helped me put my mind into the right perspective.
I got confirmation I'm on the right road; I just need a little patience. It's going to come together; everything is being put together. I just need to keep doing what I'm doing but to do it better, neater, faster, more efficiently (is that even a correct phrase). Patience, patience, patience. And work. Time to get to writing.
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