a little less than a year ago i blogged about the weight gain. the reasons behind it. and announced my goal. now here i am having rejoined weight watchers and then giving up on weight watchers (a post i have sitting in my drafts waiting to hit publish on. soon. promise). sitting at my highest weight in 5+ years. not my highest ever. but highest since losing over 40 pounds in 2007 and another 15 in 2011.
its an uphill battle. a couple weekends ago, i was incredibly down about it. couldn't hardly focus on anything or enjoy the weekend at all because i just kept thinking about the weight. why i put it on. how sad/disappointed/frustrated/bummed/miserable i am that i went from my lowest weight since i was 10 back up 35 pounds. mike kept asking me what was wrong but i felt like a broken record talking about this so i just kept saying nothing.
finally he got it out of me.
i feel like i'm standing at the bottom of a hill. staring up. knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that i have to climb this hill. and that i want to climb it now. but not knowing even a little bit how to go about doing it.
i don't know what it is about the second time around that has proved so difficult for me. i know people who lost, had babies and gained, and lost it again less than 6 months after. and i think its amazing. but if i'm honest, its depressing too. why can't i do it? and i don't even have a cute chubby baby to show for the gain. just a divorce. living with parents twice since. a new relationship. and too much freedom to eat whatever i want when i want it. because m wants me to be happy more than skinny. i love him for it. but being skinny will make me happy.
and dammit i love food. i wish i was one of those people that didn't eat when i am stressed or depressed or just had a bad day. but its the opposite for me. its like permission to have those oreos that have been staring me in the face. (have i mentioned my love for oreos?! favorite food ever. and ONE is 55 calories. gag.)
besides the second time being so difficult to do physically, it has been one of the most difficult emotional battles of my life. i don't even know how to express how hard it is emotionally for me. i think about it all. day. long. literally. i can't stand looking in the mirror. i wear the same 5 shirts because they are big enough to fit and nothing else is. i refuse to buy fat clothes because gosh darnit, i don't need them! i will lose this shit!
i cry about it all the time. i have complete emotional anxiety attacks about it probably once a week. i come up with a new game plan every other week. i try. and i fail. something comes up all the time. we are moving. its the holidays. we're moving again. new jobs. blah blah blah
i decide i can lose the weight one minute and then the next succumb to being fat forever. i hate posting pictures of myself because i am humiliated by the gain. everyone says "what fat" and i just think, i'm hiding it better than you realize. spanx. double tanktops. loose tops. whatever it takes.
i want to sit in sweatpants all day and never leave the house. i want to hide under the covers where no one can tell.
the hardest part about the second time is remembering the first time. before i lost the weight the first time, i had been fat for most of my life. i played softball as a kid but at 10, after a horrible situation with a coach, i quit. and stopped playing sports altogether. the weight started creeping up fast. its in my genes so it was natural and i paid little attention to it. i always knew i was overweight and didn't like going shopping with friends because it was embarrassing but i never paid much attention to how overweight i actually was.
a picture played a big factor in me starting weight watchers among other things but even then, it wasn't until i lost over 40 pounds and then looked back at old pictures that i realized just how overweight i had been all my life.
when you lose a significant amount of weight, you gain confidence. its natural. for once i was excited to go shopping. i felt good leaving the house. i actually wanted my picture taken instead of avoiding it or hiding behind someone skinnier. the point it is i remember how good skinny felt for me.
those memories make this the hardest emotional battle ever.
the day that i weighed in at my lowest weight ever happened to be a day i was taking a trip to tahoe for the day. i climbed up this mountain to what is supposedly the highest point to look out over lake tahoe from. and i felt so good about myself that day. it wasn't a particularly good day in my marriage but i can't even fully remember why because i just remember how amazing i felt.
i was wearing tight, short jean shorts and a tight, fitting pink top and i had just climbed to the top of a mountain without a care in the world and i felt on top of the world. my stomach was flat. i wasn't adjusting every 5 seconds to hide something. i felt fit. and i was so proud of myself. that was the main thing.
i just want that feeling back. so badly. but i have yet to find a system that works for me. and there have been so many life difficulties since gaining it back i struggle to stay on track for a long enough period of time. and i'm not being self-disciplined enough to push through those life difficulties without gaining back the 5 pounds i just fought to lose.
i am struggling. that's the moral of this whiny story.
i didn't mean to sound all self-pity-y. i hope i didn't. but this is real. this is what my everyday feels and looks like. this is what i hide from everyone but mike. this is the real stuff about having shitty metabolism and bad genes and having life knock you down a few too many times and the weight taking a hit accordingly. i wish my weight wasn't always so affected by life's ups and downs but that's me i guess.
i just have to find a way to overcome it and push past it. i have to find it in myself again to get there. this time without weight watchers. stay tuned for the reasons why...