It's meaningless to try
All she wants to do is cry
No one ever knew she was so sad
Cause even though she gets so high
And thinks that she can fly
She will fall out of the sky
That used to be me. I used to live in a constant state of despair about my size. Several times I grew desperate enough to try anything and went on a diet. Out would go the chips, sweets, chocolate, pizza, anything deemed bad by the food police. In would come salads with fat free dressing, baked chicken breasts, vegetables and fruits and sugar free drinks. All different than what the rest of my family ate. And if I even lasted one day on my new way of eating it was a miracle. I just could not live that way. I went back to my old way of eating, comforting myself with the food but hating myself even more. What a failure I felt I was. This was my life--until May 19th.
I really cannot describe what made the difference in my heart. One day I was depressed discouraged down full of doom and the next? Completely opposite. I was so sick and tired of being fat. I looked puffy, like someone could prick me with a pin and I would deflate. I couldn't fit into the largest size at WalMart and Lane Bryant and would have to buy clothes online, which I never did do. Everywhere I went I was the fattest person there except for once in a blue moon when I could comfort myself that this huge gargantuan person in a motorized scooter at WM was bigger than me. I was tired all the time but couldn't sleep well. I woke up constantly during the night. I had intestinal difficulties pretty much everyday. I hated my clothes, my shoes, my hair, the way I looked in lipstick--hideous because my lips appeared so little next to my fat cheeks--so I never even wore lipstick, just mascara. If I wore more than that I looked like a clown, a big fat clown. Sex was awkward and difficult because of my size and very large stomach. We had sex maybe once every few years. And yet I thought about sex constantly. I know I had to be an embarrassment to my family but they never said anything and still don't about my size. Except for my Dad. And when he would say something I would tell him 'Don't worry Dad, I'm on a diet right now and I've already lost 10 pounds!!!' Ugh I just hated if someone brought up the unspeakable--I was morbidly obese. It wouldn't have helped if they did. I hated stairs and didn't go upstairs in my own home unless I absolutely HAD TO. The stairs at church were pure hell. (I think I made a funny) Putting on a seat belt was so incredibly difficult. They were always stretched to the outer limits except for the times when they didn't fit at all. The back seat of my Dad's car was where I rode, sweetly letting my sister have shotgun, because I couldn't fit in that belt, or the back seat one, but my Dad couldn't see me there. I always had to scope out the seating everywhere I went, to make sure I sat in a very large chair that was extremely sturdy looking. If I couldn't, I stood. Or wandered around, wishing with all my heart that I could sit down because hauling 356 pounds around is strenuous! I broke chairs. I broke a metal rocking chair, one of those old school ones you know? at my brother in law's house and I can still see his face when he picked up the pieces I was completely and totally mortified. I still am. I couldn't sit at a picnic table with my children because I once tipped a picnic table when I innocently tried to sit down at one without realising that I had gained enough weight to actually be too big for one. You can imagine the screams and horror when that happened. I was completely and totally mortified. My husband told me that he didn't want to have sex because I was sexually unattractive. That bit. Hard.
And yet, now as I look back, I needed to hear that. I needed someone to say WAKE UP FOR GOD'S SAKE LOOK AT YOURSELF YOU ARE SUPER DUPER FAT YOU HAVE TO DO SOMETHING. I needed that kick in the pants because one week later, I decided that enough was enough and I was doing it for real. And I have never looked back.
I never struggle with horrid temptations for food I can't have because I can eat whatever I want. Albeit portioned. I refuse to go over my 1500 calorie limit. I walk every day that I possibly can. I am actually losing the weight for ME and not for someone else. Nobody really cares. Except for me. And I am still flummoxed (I have always wanted to use that word) that it actually works! I thought it would be so hard, difficult, complicated, agony, torture. And it isn't. It is extremely simple and easy and fun to lose weight. I never thought I would feel that way. I am on a quest for my lifetime happiness and loving every single minute of it.
When I get dressed I pose in front of the mirror and look at myself from all different angles, enjoying the new look of my old clothes as they hang on me.
When I get in the car I am filled with wonder that my stomach doesn't press into the steering wheel so hard that it affects my driving. And my seat belt has lots of extra belt.
When I want chocolate I get something chocolate.
When I want pizza I eat it.
I live without guilt and fear.
I look forward to each new day with joy and confidence because I know that I am losing weight.
I will walk into WalMart, take a pair of size 12 jeans off the rack, and when I try them on I look just fine.
I will kneel and squat and get down on the floor and back up with ease
I will go swimming and to amusement parks
I will play frisbee with my kids without worrying I will trip and fall and kill myself
I will ride a bike and not look ridiculous even though fat bottomed girls make the world go round
I will fit everywhere better--booths, movie theaters, cars, lawn chairs, chairs in public places such as doctors and dentists, swinging porch benches
I will be able to hold my guitar close to my body
I won't always think 'that person doesn't like me because I'm fat' or 'that person isn't looking at me in the eyes because I'm fat' I will realize they are just jerks
I will boldly meet people, knowing that I don't look like a hideous freak but a nice, normal person
I am not alone. I know there are many people in this world who struggle bitterly with their weight. If there is one memorable thing I do in my life besides having 8 children I want it to be that someone else was changed by my story.
As you can see I have had many deep thoughts today. This blog is a chronicle of a pivotal time in my life. Every time I read back through my posts I am filled with awe that I wrote all that. In many ways I have changed and others not. I discovered that I really did have something wrong with me--that black cloud that had followed me for years was depression--and I was able to begin taking Wellbutrin. I am finding out that Zaa is a pretty great person, with strength and determination. I have finally achieved what I have wanted my whole life. Consistency. I have also met many incredible people through this blog, people just like me. I love you guys.
Today has just been the longest day. We overslept and didn't make it to church this morning and then we took a nap in the afternoon and overslept and didn't make it to church tonight either. This morning when I did finally wake up I had a headache and then proceeded to have that headache for the entire freaking day. The whole day has been dreary and boring. I made frozen pizza for dinner and rejoiced in the fact that my portion filled me up. Filled. Me. Up. I had a Hostess chocolate cupcake for 180 calories and rejoiced in the fact that I had the calories for it and enjoyed every single bite. I fixed one of the computers that SOMEONE messed up, cleaning the trojans and it works just fine and I don't have to come crawling to my Dad again with another one of my computers again asking him to fix it again because I can't. Again. I had a strawberry slushie guilt free because I had the calories for it and it was yum. I also had the prerequisite brain freezes.
Tomorrow is Monday, glorious Monday. But sadly two of my kiddos are complaining of feeling sick so it might not be so glorious if they stay home. This creeping crud is slowly making its way through my family.
My daughter turns 18 next week and is getting her nose pierced (!) and her hair colored. She keeps telling me I have to go with her to watch her get her nose pierced and I am so totally freaking out. You can't do that at WalMart. You have to go to some hip place where I am easily 3 times the size of everyone else there. Not looking forward to it. And if there's blood I will die I know it. She wants me to get my hair colored at the same time she does and I told her I wanted that to be my reward when I finally got below 300 but I think I might go ahead and do it then. I really freaking hate my hair.
My family and sister and Dad know about this blog, but I haven't told anyone else I know. So in a small way I am anonymous because the only person I personally know who reads this blog is my sis. I haven't said anything in Facebook. And no, don't go looking for Zaababy on facebook she is not there. As Zaababy.
Have a great day friends.