It's not a good day. Anybody that knows me knows that I struggle with my weight. Some days are better than others but today is one of those REALLY REALLY bad days. I need to get this on paper in an attempt to get it OFF my chest. It works with anger. Let's see if it works for depression. Here goes.
I've had a weight problem since I got on stupid birth control at 15. Clearly I cannot take the stuff. I remember weighing myself the day before freshman year. 145. That's not little. But it would be the last time I would see that number for 5 years. I've always been active. Always played sports year round. And even with all that exercise I managed to go from 145 to 186 between 10th and 12th grade. Then, at 18, when I took myself off the pill. The weight started coming off. By the time I was 20 I was down to 145 again. With minimal effort on my part might I add. I went through one summer where I worked out but I really toned up more than lost any weight. I wasn't on ANY birth control for the next 3 years and maintained that weight. Exercise here and there. Eating well but not dieting by any stretch. Then in 2003 I was diagnosed with Endometriosis. I had a surgery to remove it and was then put on a 6 month round of lupron. Which is basically chemically induced menopause. During this 6 months I got engaged, bought and remodeled a house, moved, planned a wedding and got married. I know brides typically lose weight before their big day even if its all stress related and not through any conscious effort. But I lost 20 pounds. Fast. Like in 2 months. It had to be the lupron. I was 126 pounds on my wedding day. Its hard to be fat after you've been that thin. REALLY REALLY hard.
So. I was married on April 5th. We went and enjoyed a lovely honeymoon and on the 13th we came home and gave each other our wedding presents by quitting smoking. I gained 20 pounds immediately. Like in less than 2 months. Then I found out I was pregnant. So by the time I even started gaining baby weight....I was up to just under 150. I went on to gain another 40 pounds in the next several months and was a whopping 187 the day I delivered my baby boy. I was SURE I would lose that weight and then some since I intended to nurse exclusively. Once that baby was out and I no longer had a reason to be big I developed a SERIOUS distaste for my body. One that has only gotton worse in the last two years. I am not one of those women that think saggy skin and stretch marks is beautiful because I got a baby out of it. No. Saggy skin is gross. Period. Children are wonderful but pregnancy is hell on your body.
Like I said I really was SURE nursing would help the weight come off. I got down to 155, but then stuck there for 6 months. I decided I must be one of those women that can't lose while nursing. I weaned when Ant was 13 months old. Then I JUST KNEW I'd FINALLY lose some weight. Especially now that I could really diet since I didn't have to worry about milk supply and I could really exercise since I no longer leaked. Well, one month after I dried up I had gained 5 pounds. Up to 160. So I immediately blamed my birthcontrol. Depo Provera. That HAD to be it. So I got off it and switched to a pill. MISTAKE. Gained 3 more pounds. 163. Damn. So I got BACK on the depo and had to get a DOUBLE shot because I just kept fucking bleeding ALL THE TIME. After the 2nd dose, the 3 pounds came off but I was still 160. Not happy. So. August of 2010 rolls around and I start working out. Running one day a week and Zumba 2 days a week. A month goes by. No weight loss. So I up my workouts and add a 3rd Zumba on Saturdays along with a toning class. Another month goes by. No weight loss. By November I've got 3 zumbas, a toning and I've added another running day to my week. I was now working out 5 days a week. I start gaining a little weight. And not muscle because my clothes were tight. I was pissed. So in December I decide to sign up for the Azalea Trail and add ANOTHER workout to help me train. One long run on Sundays. By January I'm running Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Doing Zumba Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays and the toning class on Saturday as well. I go up to 164. I start to believe that as much as I love depo...it's making it impossible for me to lose so I get off it. Through February...no weight loss. So, very defeated, by March, perfect timing for lent, I forgo my very last vice. Dessert. Sweets. All of them. Gone. It has been one month today and I've gained an additional 4 pounds. 168.2 this morning. Please tell me how in the FUCK that is possible??? I do not drink soda, tea, juice or koolaid. I have coffee with splenda in the morning, water all day, milk with dinner. Sure my dinners could be a little healthier. But you know what?? As much as I fucking exercise I should be able to drink cake frosting milkshakes 3 times a day and STILL lose weight. I eat Special K for breakfast with 1% milk. A light lunch and IF on the rare occasion I have a snack between meals, its either fruit or yogurt. I don't eat fast food or fried food. When I say crap dinner....we have a lot of casseroles because when you have to squeeze 6-7 hours of exercise in your already busy working-mom-week you have to cut corners somewhere and a casserole is a busy bitches best friend. I don't eat 3 helpings of potatoes. I eat a proper serving of whatever meal I make for dinner. I make delicious food because cooking makes me happy. Its a passion and if I have to be fat I at least deserve a hobby that I enjoy. I've tried very hard. I've made a solid effort for NINE months now only to be rewarded with a Friday morning nervous breakdown because I cant button my pants and have to wear a sloppy tshirt to cover the fact that they are held together with a fucking ponytail holder. Just like when I was pregnant. In fact....I'm the same weight now that I was 2 months post partum. Thats fucking disgusting. I'm disgusting. I hate clothes. I hate pants. I hate mirrors. I hate shopping. I hate being uncomfortable in my own skin. I hate feeling trapped under this weight. I hate it. Its making me fucking insane. If I sat on my ass and gorged myself all the time I'd have no reason to whine whatsoever. But I work hard. I've sacrificed HUNDREDS of hours with my family to workout and it's all for fucking nothing. NOTHING. So the fuck what if I can run 5 miles. Call me vain but I don't give a fuck if I can run 20 miles if I can't wear a damn single digit size pair of pants. "Oh but you're so fit!" I. Don't. Care. That doesn't make a fucking bit of difference to me. I want to be thin. Period. I want to get dressed one morning and it not suck. I want to feel like I look cute. Not like I'm just hiding the fat well. My face is even fat. I have no jawline and am developing a second chin. No amount of makeup hides that.
And no I'm not some depressed lunatic. I have a fantastic husband, a beautiful child, great friends, excellent parents and a large extended family. I like my job. I have hobbies I enjoy. We may not be rich but we are able to pay the bills every month (so far) which is better than a lot of people right now. I know that I have a God that loves me. I love being a Mom and a Wife. I love being married to my best friend. I love our home. I love my neighbors. I have so many good qualities that make me a wonderful person. I'm just fat. As long as I am in this body I will not feel complete. I need to LOSE to be whole. As backwards as that sounds it makes perfect sense to me.
I still don't feel better. Fuck.
