Saturday, May 23, 2009

A little bit about me.

Saturday May 23, 2009

I have decided to go on a quest and change my life. I am blogging to document that journey.

I am going to do whatever it is I need to become a better, healthier, smarter and hopfully, happier April. My main reason for blogging and tweeting about it is to chart my path. Maybe people will read me maybe they won’t. It honestly doesn’t matter. I am doing this for me. I may keep it up and I may not. However, today as I write this the hope is that I will blog about my journey of self-discovery and change, about once a week, perhaps more if I am so inspired.

I decided to go back to weight watchers. Back to weight watchers. Back. To. Weight. Watchers. I have been there and here before. I have been successful once. That is I was dedicated and on program for over a year and lost a significant amount of weight. I looked great. I felt amazing. I was sexy honey. Not at all thin, but just looking so much better. The whole thing, people were noticing and complimenting. I was gushing about myself. And then…

I gained it all back. It happens so fast. Event thought I knew it was happening; it seemed as though before I knew it, I had fallen off the wagon and gained it all back. Epic Epic fail. But this hardly a new story. We all know of people who have done the same thing. Everyone says, oh not me. I’ve worked so hard to loose 20, 40, and 60, 150 lbs. I won’t let myself gain it all back. Yet many, excuse me, most do.

My reality is that I am a food-addicted person. I eat when I am hungry. I eat when I a not. I eat to cope. I eat to soothe my soul. I eat to celebrate. I eat to morn. I eat to entertain. I eat to stave of the sometimes-agonizing loneliness and depression I have grappled with for what seems like my entire life. I eat. I eat and I eat.

I don’t remember a time when I didn’t struggle with food. I have always struggled with food. Always. I was chubby baby and child. I was a fat teenager who grew into an obese adult. Here is my other reality. I am obese. I think the first time my, beautiful thin Mother, took me to WW was when I was 10 or so. It’s been an uphill battle ever since.

I wish that it did something to me to say that. But facts is facts. It happened slowly but it happened. I could live with it. I could just say hey this is me, like or go fuck yourself. I know that has been the image of myself that I have tried to project. I think that I have had varying degrees of success with that.

The life that I have been leading is not the life that I had imagined for myself.

Not even a little bit. And I’m going to change it.

1 comment:

  1. Admittedly, I was a fat kid. I'll never forget, my mom threatened to put me in a "fat camp" if I kept gaining weight (around age 11). lol, thanks mom. My parents did not cultivate self discipline, self love, self confidence in me. They 'fed' me comments like above. I actually gained more weight bc of comments like that. That's why I'm in therapy, to purge it all, become healthy emotionally, so that I can take better care of myself.

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