My Starting Point

WARNING! LONGEST POST EVER!

I decided to start reading tonight, “Transformation” by Bill Phillips. This is an 18-week program to change you as a whole person, not just to address the physical. Each chapter is designed to have some serious “soul searching” or meditation to help bring you closer to your feelings/ reasons/ etc. Chapter One is laying down the Start and Goal portion and really trying to get into a deeper reason for the changes than, “I want to be thin.” 

It has set up a range of questions designed to help you look at more than just the physical being for change. The author (Bill) says if you find a reason that makes you cry, then you are getting very close to the heart of change. He says to take it slow. The first set of questions is:

“Having looked inward to do some soul-searcching, three heartfelt reasons for making the decision to transform my hearlth and life are:”

I want to say that I want to be thin. I don’t. I want to be ME. I have boobs like Dolly, an ass like a beach ball, and a naturally tiny waist… yes, even at 190 pounds. Even at 264, you can still see it! The big difference between where I am and where I want to be isn’t a smaller ass or whatever. Those things are never going to change on me. It’s the lumps. I wasn’t so lumpy before and it’s getting in the way.

One heartfelt reason I want to transform my health and my life is so I can be ME again. I want to smile at myself because – not that I look good – but that I feel good. That I feel like ME again.

My second heartfelt reason I want to transform is that I am missing out on my life. I avoid doing shit I like because I am trapped in this God forsaken depression that has taken my body hostage. My weight and how I feel about my body has now stopped me from living the happiest life I can.

My third reason I want to transform is maybe a little shallow but I want to have my BF be proud of my body too. He would never say that he doesn’t love my body – EVER – because he’s afraid for his life, but because he loves me. And it’s probably the depression that has altered my vision of other people’s perception of my body. I’ve always been a mess but at least I was a hot mess, looking and acting like I had my shit together. I didn’t. And I don’t. I’m sure that ties into my new SAHM gig – I don’t value my accomplishments like I did when I was at my job. Since I have little adult interaction, I want my BF to go over the top when he comes home. I want his friends to be a little envious that my BF has this lovely trophy wife who seems to do it all. <– I don’t. I just want it to seem that way. 😉

The next question is “In recent days and weeks, the three most predominant inner feelings I have been ezperiencing are:”

Well, THAT’S a loaded question.

First and foremost: I feel out of control. I feel like my quality of life has been hijacked by a Big Hero 6 costume and I’m being forced to live in it. Imagine you see your kid fall off the jungle gym at a park. You go to get up and make sure they are okay and you can’t because you can’t bend far enough to lift your fat ass off the bench. Once you do end up rolling off the bench, it takes you 20 minutes to stand. Let alone how long it takes you to get to your kid because your feet are so not in the running mood. I don’t want to lose time when trying to reach my child, my BF, my mother.

When my 8YO was 5, she was learning how to ride a bike. Helmet, knee pads, and training wheels, off she went down a trail that we frequent. She was feeling confident so she went for the down slope of a hill that turns at the bottom. You guessed it: there was a cliff that went straight into the lake if you didn’t turn in time. She was going so fast and lost control of her bike and there was me, running after her as fast as I could. I didn’t catch up to her. Thank God for the sheriff who happened to be coming up the trail (off duty) who grabbed her and kept her from going over the cliff. You don’t want that feeling – EVER – of knowing you weren’t able to save your child or help your child or stop them from being scared. I failed her that day. I NEVER want to fail her again.

Second, I’ve felt embarrassed. I’m a delight! People should know that but unfortunately, the truth of the matter is, first impressions are VERY important and being heavy gives a bad first impression. Now, we can debate how the current climate of stigma surrounding heavy people is biased and fucked and needs to change (which I completely support) however it’s just not going to today. Opposing the double standard of beauty in the world in general is something that I will always support because it’s offensive and shitty – that’s accurate. Beauty is NOT because of how thin you are. But that’s a discussion for another post. I’m not trying to be thin, remember. I am proud of my T & A that goes on for days. What I’m talking about here is finding my way back to where I feel like ME again.

And third, I’ve felt like I’m two people arguing with eachother. I am the empowered, “I can do anything I want!” and I am also the victim, “But it’s so hard and my mom always called me fat and my dad always called me fat and I was bullied” etc. Though those things are true, I keep trying to bitch slap myself with the empowered, “stuff a sock in it and get your shit together you lazy piece of shit!” and then victim comes out like, “You’re mean and I’m not going to do a thing you say out of spite. Bite me and fuck off!” And the battle rages on and on. If I had one more personality to act like the mediator, maybe I could get them to get along and STFU but since that hasn’t happened yet, they will just keep battering each other.

I love me. And I hate to hear myself be mean to… myself. I think I’ve forgotten how lovely I am. If I don’t know how great I am, how can I expect other people to know it? I’ve been feeling like I’ve given up on me and that’s not something I ever want.

The next question is, “Three patterns of thinking or beliefs which may have limited my ability to change in the past are:”

First: That I can do anything that I want and fuck who ever says different. I feel like I’m awesome and why should I deprive myself of anything? If I want something, I get it. End of discussion. That hasn’t brought me peace nor returned my self-confidence nor made me able to do things that I enjoy doing. It just makes me feel like a spoiled little asshole. I don’t want to be an asshole.

Second: That in order for me to be a good mom/ spouse, I have to put my needs last. This has been a big one for me because I feel like, “Yeah, my kids come first.” Duh. But let’s look at that. If I was on a plane with one of my kids and the O2 masks came down, what would I do? Put the mask on her first then I’m passed out and can’t help anymore?? That’s stupid. My mask first so I am able to help her for as long as she needs me. Ihave been suffering and justifying it by saying, “I can’t do >this< because my kids need me to blah blah blah.” A side effect of me taking care of me is that the kids learn also that caring for themselves is very important. I don’t mean like people that have name brand stuff while their kids are in patched up Walmart clothes and no shoes. I mean SELF CARE. Things you do for you to make you emotionally, physically, spiritually, and mentally healthy. Like mom breaks (also known as the ‘quick’ trip to Target with zero kids that really ends up being 2 hours – half of that time, sitting in the Starbucks there). I am worth the time and effort of caring for myself. I make time to brush my teeth and to bathe — this is just as important.

And third I seem to think that I don’t matter. Let me clarify. When someone is an athelete, their physical health is the main thing. Without their conditioning, they can’t do their job. When someone is a model, physical appearence is a huge part. They need to maintain that or they can’t do their job. Who cares about me (other than my family who are really contractually required to love me no matter what)? I think I’m sexy so I don’t care. I just let it go. I don’t need to get up and work out because I’m the only person I see all day. BF comes home and then it’s bed time and another day starts. The isolation and depression add to that feeling of, “Who fucking cares anyway?”

Well, turns out I care. It took a minute to connect all the dots on this one but if I didn’t give a shit, then why do I keep reading all these self help books and keep buying make-up and keep trying for self improvement?? Because I do give a shit. I just wish it didn’t take me so long to figure that out.

Onto the physical. “Three objectivly verifyable statements that reflect my physical conditon right now are:”

Oh dear. Shit shit shit shit shit. Well, I better just get on with it.

First, right in the morning on 06/24, I weighed 264 pounds.

Second, I can’t get into my size 18 jeans anymore.

Third, I get winded walking around the backyard.

And of course, now he wants a before picture. Lovely. I don’t want to but I will post my before pictures because 1. I want to demonstrate to myself my resolve 2. If I’m going to follow this book, then I need to do what it says and it says this is an important step. I don’t know why it’s so important to make me cry but here we go.

2016-02-01 09.14.50

Can’t take it back now! There it is though. BTW: I LOVE Wonder Woman.

Well, that humiliating photo has just put me in the position to pause now and reflect a bit. I will finish the rest of chapter 1 tomorrow – once I’ve finished crying.

Just real quick, I completed my whole list today and I feel pretty good about that. I just have to finish up my log and then it’s all set. 🙂 I’m going to use the same list for tomorrow – try to keep it consistant so that I may, some time in the future, not have to use the list.

Take care of yourself, everybody. And be kind.

The Trophy Wife

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