You go your merry way, thinking you look one way, and then you see a picture taken of yourself and your body wasn't at the right angle, no hands on the hips, nothing. And you freak. Because once again, the image you carry around in your brain is not true. I thought I was past all that but no, still, I think I look thinner than I really am. I mean, it's nice and all that I don't see myself as a huge fatty, but it's quite detrimental to me. I let myself slide. I start having root beer every day for lunch, instead of it being a once in a while treat. I bake more, and taste more, and let myself have more every day, and the little bit I allow myself becomes a lot. A whole lot.
Getting myself back into the swing of things. The daily walking, with spurts of running as I can fit in/be on deserted parts of roads so noone can see me stuff. The measuring instead of eyeing. The saying no and running away. The remembering to take my anti depressants. Wait what? How did that get in there? Oh I forgot to mention that over the summer I thought I was 'better' and 'didn't need anti depressants anymore' and 'didn't ask my doctor because I'll be allright without them now' and 'basically was an idiot'. How many times have I read about people who went off their medication without their doctor's approval and horrible things happened? Like a zillion? And yet I think I'm the one exception to the rule. So I am back on the horse, after falling off. (Not a real horse)
Because, to be frank here, (and you can be Shirley), I am not done. My turkey tester has not popped up. There is more weight to be lost, food to say no to, food to say YES to, walks to be taken, stairs to be raced up but not down because I'm still afraid I'm gonna trip and fall and kill myself.
I found myself staying away from my blog for a very weird reason: MY SECRET WAS OUT. Yes. The dreaded 'everyone knows I'm losing weight and the pressure begins' thing. The lady at the grocery store who EVERYTIME she saw me asked me how much weight I had lost since the last time she saw me. In front of strangers in line. Who then looked at me like 'Good heavens she's huge now what did she look like before!' The family members who would hug me and whisper discreetly 'You look GREAT or FABULOUS or WONDERFUL' and you know it's because you looked like a WHALE and they can't BELIEVE the DIFFERENCE. The people I know in real life who are actually reading my blog and so therefore know all the disgusting horrible existence that was my life as a really fat woman. I mean, I was freaking out because there was no WAY I was going to tell my sister in law that I had trouble wiping in a regular stall which was why I always used the wheelchair stall and I'm so thrilled I don't have to do that anymore. You just can't fit that into a regular conversation can you? So all these real people who really know me know the real life I had before and it just became too much. It's one thing to be Zaababy, the cool hip fun girl who was losing weight and another to be Laura, who eats all the wrong foods and doesn't like vegetables and you saw her eating a candy bar and said 'should you be eating that'. And of course I only had myself to blame. I didn't have to tell anyone. But see there's this little thing about me that you might not know. I HAVE A BIG MOUTH. Yes. Don't tell me anything secret because I am so excited to be honored with the secret that I have to tell SOMEONE so they'll know someone else liked me enough to tell me something secret. That made a lot more sense in my head before I typed it, but you get the idea.
So there I was, basically abandoning the one thing that has helped me more than anything: accountability. You just don't realize how important that is until you don't have it anymore. Like indoor toilets. You go about your day, using that indoor toilet and flushing merrily away, not even thinking that people 100 years ago had to get COMPLETELY DRESSED to walk outside to use the bathroom, and if they needed to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night they would go in a CHAMBER POT THEY KEPT UNDER THEIR BED. You see how horribly inconvenient and smelly this is? Guess who gets to empty the pot? I'm pretty sure it's not the husband. And can you imagine squating over that thing? I'm sure I would miss it completely. And fall over to boot.
I'm disabling comments for the time being. That way I'm not crushed if nobody leaves me a comment. If you desperately need to tell me something you can email me at zaababy@sbcglobal.net. Thanks to all of you who have kept in contact with me over the summer, I really appreciate your kindness. I AM NOT DEAD.
*********Tiny List********
I went on a hayride for the first time in I don't remember when. I was able to climb into AND out of the wagon without injuring myself, the wagon didn't tip or lean heavily on the side I was on, and I had an absolute blast riding around my little town singing at the top of my lungs.
My grocery store doesn't sell moon pies anymore. My life is officially over.
I sang a solo at church and that was the thinnest I have ever been when I did that. Which btw we are going to a new church that I totally love.
*********end of tiny list**********
So let me tell you about me a few weeks ago. I have gained 20 pounds (horror filled gasps fill the air), I completely stopped walking, I was sinking back into depression BIG TIME, and was feeling helpless and discouraged. 'Cue Wellbutrin ad' I was super embarrassed about many things: not keeping up with my journal, people who would tell me how glad I was losing weight and not to stop (there is nothing more horrible to say to a person. Just sayin) feeling hungry all the time, nothing satisfied,
Now I am back walking--talk about sore legs!--measuring my food, taking my wellbutrin faithfully--twice a day--and posting. See, there is nothing I have hated more than bloggers who disappear then they come back in random appearances talking about how they basically fell off the wagon but they're still trying and then they are gone. For good. The pressure was too much for me and I basically caved under it.
Quick side note: My insides are saying stuff like 'you'd think you would wait until AFTER Thanksgiving to get straightened out'.
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