I have always had issues with my weight. My biggest issue is that I'm big. As in fat... or more precisely, morbidly obese. These issues began when I began puberty. Until then, I was a skinny kid without a worry in the world. In fact, I did not even realize I was getting fat. Not even when I was pulled out of 6th grade and put into a "special" P.E. class for overweight and uncoordinated kids. There were four of us in that class. Two of us were "fat." What I remember most about that class was my teacher, or instructor, gave the two of us fat kids special exercises to do and I did them, but I continued to gain weight throughout the duration of the class and before the school year ended, I remember he asked me, "Why are you gaining weight?" I said, "I don't know." And I didn't. I was a very active kid so there was no reason I should be continually gaining weight, yet I was. At the last weigh in for my 6th grade year, I weighed 117 pounds. I was 11 years old and about 5'2". During the summer, I went to the park with my brother as often as my mother would allow, went swimming when my mother allowed, rode my bike as often as I could, and played in the neighborhood when none of these options were available to me. In other words, I was active. When the new school year began ... 7th grade, middle school ... I was weighed in as a matter of routine, I think, because I had been in a "special" P.E. class the year before. I measured at 5'4" (grew 2" over the summer) and weighed in at 125 pounds. What I wouldn't give to look like that today! No one every commented on my weight gain, but it kind of hung over my head that entire year and suddenly, I knew I was fat.
The needle on the scale moved progressively to the right with each year. Always remaining mostly active, it was forever a puzzle to those around me why I was continuing to gain weight. By the time I graduated high school, I was 5'7" and weighed in at 175 pounds. Some of that was height, yes, but a lot of it was fat. And still the scale moved towards the right. The winter after I graduated, my family moved me out to the middle of nowhere, where I became, for the first time, truly sedentary. I did nothing but eat and sleep for about 3 months and ballooned to 260 pounds. That pretty much told me everything I needed to know about me.
Of course, it wasn't until years later that I put two and two together to come up with a theory that made sense. I was never meant to be thin. I don't have to be as fat as I am, but I was never meant to be thin. What a heart-wrenching discovery that was. But once I came to terms with it, and began to accept the fact that I am what I am, I started liking myself again and it began to show. And gradually, I began to lose weight. And gain weight, and lose weight, and gain weight.
I reached an all-time high of 325 pounds when I was about 27 or 28 years old. Then I began to seriously work on making that scale needle move to the left. I was mostly successful and got down to 240-something just before I married my second husband. Then the needle began its gradual ascent to the right - again. Of course, it doesn't help that I got pregnant - twice. And each time I got pregnant, my husband indulged my every craving! (bad husband!! LOL) In my 30's, I was able to keep my weight between 250 and 280, yo-yo-ing in between each pregnancy.
Until finally, I got a job that kept this old body moving. After surviving the first winter, I didn't know if I could do another winter. When you've been morbidly obese your entire adult life, your body develops arthritis, and I had it in the worst places... knees, hips, back, hands. I didn't know if I could survive another winter. But, I survived my second summer, taking off some more weight and gaining some muscle which helped me get through the next winter. It also set up a pattern of weight loss and gain that would stick around until I quit smoking and eventually quit the company. I would gain back about half the weight I had lost over the summer during the winter ... then come summer, it was like starting over again. Except that by the time I got to my 4th winter, I had lost more than I gained and was back down to 260 pounds (after getting back up to 305 just prior to starting this new job). Then I decided to quit smoking. And then my Aunt needed my help and I quit my job. And then I moved to Idaho.
Slowly but surely, I have gained back 30 pounds, and am nearly back to where I was just 4 years ago. I was so disgusted with myself that I just about gave up on me. But after some much needed soul searching, I think I've finally reached that point I need to be to make the needle move again towards the left.
I've begun walking the dog at least once a day. I try to walk her twice a day, but it doesn't always work out that way. My uncle got me Zumba Dance for the WII, but I've only done that once so far. And there are days when I'm sooo tired that I just don't want to do anything at all. I think those are the days that follow a day where I eat nothing but crap all day. So, I am trying to eat better foods, make better choices, and stay more active. That's the only way, really, to make the needle move to the left. And this morning (7/16/11), I stood on the scale and the needed did indeed move to the left - two marks. I've lost 2 pounds in a week.
I hope to keep it up. I have looked up OA meetings in my area and made a list of them. I think about going to one every day.
I try oh-so-hard to keep my mind set in the right place... in the place it needs to be so that I can work on my physical self.
Because no one can do this for me.
This is something that I must do for myself.
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