Last night I looked down at myself and saw that I am back at my fattest ever. I knew before I stepped on the scale this morning.
I have a long list of excuses. Two breakups that were more painful for me than I expected; a new relationship that is both wonderful and challenging; huge devastating family illnesses; the death of my Mama; my daughter moving out on her own; depression; anxiety; money problems; exhaustion...
Of course the expected thing for me to say here is that I can't blame my weight gain on these things, and I have to take responsibility for my self care and stop making excuses. But you know what?
That is bullshit and I think many of us know it.
We are our experiences. We all respond to pain and stresses in our own ways, and we all do what it takes to ease the pain. For some people, taking control and making long-term changes and knowing that they are making progress eases the pain. Others of us respond to short-term fixes. That doesn't make us weak, it is simply a different way of coping. We need to feel that pleasure in that moment, because our despair can't wait for the long term reward. It may not be as healthy, but it is what our bodies push us to do. I refuse to continue to feel shame for taking care of my mental health in the way that worked for me for the past two years. Food was my medicine, and it worked for a while.
Now I am in therapy. I am working through my mental health issues with a professional, and will probably begin a medication regimen soon. I am finally ready to try to deal with my problems with other coping mechanisms, and wean myself from my dependence on comfort food.
I have hopes, but my hopes are different from my expectations.
I expect to start out like gangbusters, eating perfectly healthy and exercising consistently for a few days, maybe a week, then become overwhelmed and start the steep downward slope back to square one. This is my most common story.
I hope to find motivation to push through the period of being overwhelmed, and steer myself back onto the path when I veer off plan, and focus on getting my blood pressure numbers down and building strength and improving my cardiovascular endurance and caring about the health aspects of these changes. That is what I hope.
I have to come at this from a place of caring about my health, and not from a place of self loathing. In the past, I have hated myself so much for being fat. I have hated myself for being weak. I have felt shame and guilt and anger toward myself for having all the knowledge I need, and still making decisions that keep me fat. The most important thing for me right now is to learn to let go of all that hate. That hate has prevented me from taking care of my body for so many years. It is my number one obstacle.
It isn't going to go away overnight. I don't know whether I will make it this time, or if I will let the hate tear me down and stop me in my tracks again. I just don't know.
Right now I want to lose weight. I want to get the extra pounds off my knees because I am tired of the pain. I want to lower my resting heart rate. I want to lower my blood pressure. I know how important it is for me to focus on these goals, the goals that come from self love; and ignore the goals that my head screams at me from that place of self loathing (look better in a swimsuit; take up less space; be sexier; look more desirable).
As far as I know, the only person who has ever hated me just because I'm fat is me. It will be a long road to stop that hatred, but I am working on it. This morning I weighed 202 lbs. And I am more than that number. Whether or not I successfully control that number, It does not control me.
