I gained a lot of weight when my husband died. Food was my drug. Food was the only thing that made me feel good even if only for one minute so I just kept eating to feel better longer. I kept getting bigger and bigger and more unhappy. Every day I'd say to myself, "Tomorrow I will start eating better and lose weight, of course, I never did. I felt miserable, I couldn't walk far without gasping for breath and my back hurting. I'd only go to the market or Target so I could push a cart around to help my back. I couldn't cross my legs, I couldn't reach the emergency brake on my car unless I opened the door, and so many other things. I'd go places early so I could get a parking space close by so I wouldn't have to walk far.
The worst thing is the way people treat you. They are just mean. They say horrible things, they don't include you, they don't want to be around you. My five year old niece asked me, "What does a cunt mean" because she heard her daddy say I was a fat, lazy cunt. Broke my heart.
I was laid off and looking for a job when an HR person said she'd hire me but I was over weight and no one would hire me because of future potential insurance costs. She said she was telling me to be truthful but if I mentioned it to any one she'd deny it. Plus she did not say this nicely. I just wanted to die.
I honestly wish I'd turned to drugs or alcohol when my husband died. People are kinder to addicts and alcoholics. They actually help them through their hard times.
I was so depressed I got pneumonia and didn't care what happened to me. The doctor wanted to hospitalize me but I wouldn't let him because I had no insurance. I got better and lost about 10 lbs so I decided to keep going.
I know from the past that exercise is key for me to lose weight so I exercised every day and could barely do 15 minutes at first but I kept on going. I found out I needed distraction when exercising and music wasn't cutting it so I would watch television or listen to pod casts. I'd memorize exercise videos on YouTube and do them every day. I started counting calories and buying no fast food. I threw my scale away because if I lost I'd feel I can indulge and if I gained I'd be depressed and eat.
I still don't know how much I weigh but I went from size 22 to size 12 and even some size 10s. I am so much stronger, I can't believe it. I can do sit ups, hold a plank for three minutes, walk stairs, shovel leaves, etc. I still marvel when walking around, is this my body?
Last month, I started binge eating again, not every day and I don't know how much I gained but my clothes still fit. I'm still exercising that seems to have become an ingrained habit but the food part is harder to conquer. I know all the triggers, I know about mindless eating, I know I use food as a drug, I know all about the tricks and distractions but when I'm in that zone, nothing matters.
I don't want to go back to being bigger. I heard Jillian Michaels say that 85 percent of people gain their weight back and more. I do not want to be one of those people.
So I am recommitting here in writing hoping it helps to eating healthy again, not buying binge foods, not buying fast food and exercising each day. I'd like to get down to a size 8 or at least not getting bigger again. When I was thin I was a size 7 but I don't know if that is possible any more.
I'd also like to start seeing myself in a more positive light. I still feel over weight and I think most people would still think of me like that. I live here in a world where size 0, 4 and 2 are the norms now. I still compare myself to every one I see and I don't compare well at all. I have to keep telling myself I'm healthier now and I want to stay that way. So here's hoping by putting this in writing it will help me.
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