People say, “All you have to do is eat right and exercise. What’s your problem?” My knee-jerk response is, “Let me show you what my problem is.” Then chase them down with a baseball bat. What’s my problem…. But then I started really thinking about it. What IS my problem?
I have been on food restriction since I was 11 and my ma poked my thigh saying, “That’s getting squishy.” Unless pregnant, I think about my weight. I have read EVERYTHING on weight loss however I have (probably unconsciously) not taken emotions/ mental health perspective on losing weight. Look, I’m fucked up. Didn’t have the best childhood (didn’t have the worst by FAR – I’m not complaining). And from how I was raised, I fought to accommplish just as much (if not more) than my family gave me credit for. My dad used to tell us as far back as I can remember that he was not going to have a fat child. My older sister is a bean pole with a big ass. My younger sister (the most well adjusted of all of us) has extra weight but she’s 5’11”, she needs it! Me, I’m in the middle. Literally.
Since I was 19, I have been on my own and with the point of view that no matter what had happened, I have to take responsibility for my actions. I didn’t have an issue with my weight – in spite of graduating high school at 194 pounds – I was fun, out going, always had the cutest boyfriends, always had lots of friends for that matter. I was adorable!
At 23, I met my current BF and we were like peas and carrots (thanks Forrest), but I was always worried about my weight. I didn’t get over 200 until I got pregnant with #1. Then after I delivered (C-Section #1), I was back down to my 190ish weight in 5 weeks. #2 baby wasn’t as neat and clean. 5 weeks early, hole in her lung, we were both so sick, I couldn’t see her for 3 days. That’s when the weight (and conviniently, the depression) stuck around. I stayed in the 230s until I got pregnant with #3. That was an awful pregnancy. I ended up losing 15 pounds during that pregancy and delivered at 220. Once she was born, back up I went to 230. Then 240. Then 250.
Now I’m 264. I hate myself for the weight. It’s affected my kids view of me, my BF’s view (though he would never admit it out of sheer fear), and it’s stopped me from doing things I love to do. WHY CAN’T I JUST EAT RIGHT AND EXERCISE?!
Imagine the thing you love to do the most. Now, imagine doing that but without the love. I LOVE camping but I avoid it because I’m too heavy to enjoy it. I love going out to Karaoke. But I avoid it because I don’t want to be treated like shit by the drunks that populate the bars.
I haven’t left the house in about a week. Not for nothing. Today, we are supposed to go to a birthday party but I cancelled. Lied and said my daughter isn’t feeling well. I don’t want to go. I want to lie in this bed and not move ever. I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to do anything. How can I accomplish a goal when I can barely get out of bed most days. I don’t even watch TV in bed or work on my phone. I just lie there.
That’s where my list comes in. I make a list and post it up where I can see it and I get – at the very least – those 5 things done everyday. Then I build on that feeling of accomplishment to get more things done. Not chores but 5 things that will get me closer to my ultimate goal.
I know it takes eating a dedicated healthy diet of sensible calories AND HIIT workouts and cardio sessions. I know that eating my feelings puts me in the opposite direction of where I want to go. Why is it so hard to put the fucking Lucky Charms down?? Why can’t I just pass on food that I know isn’t good for my goals?
So, a couple things then. One: I need to stick to my list. Period. Two: I will get in exercise every day (per the list). Right now that consists of dancing around the house for a half hour but that will work for now, so I can establish the habits I need to get to where I’m going.
While I have read every book out there, there are 3 that I keep going back to: Body-for-Life, P90, and a mostly unknown book, Be a Loser. If I could stick with even just one for an time frame of 12 weeks, I’m sure I would get more fit. It’s the depresstion. Now, the author of Body-for-life (Bill Phillips) has a book called Transformation. It’s more of an active workbook to help you bridge the gap between knowing and doing. I haven’t read that one yet. I should be done with The Talisman tonight (not that I haven’t read that 800 times already) and I could start Transformation tomorrow. Maybe even tonight! I’m wild like that.
I’ll check in tomorrow – which will now be dubbed as ‘prep day’ – and let you know what’s going on. Day 1 starts Monday.
Take care of yourselves, everybody. And be kind.
The Trophy Wife