Originally posted on http://crashndonna.blogspot.com:
To myself. I did it to myself. I abused my body with food until I reached the weight I am now, which is a weight that they make documentaries about people who have reached that weight.
Today I attended a Weight Watchers meeting. Sitting in there and seeing peoples ‘before’ and ‘after’ photos, a wave of emotion swept over me. Had I been at home I’d have wept, but I wasn’t, so I fought the tears back and pulled myself together.
It’s been an issue all of my life. As a child I was told I was fat. I wasn’t particularly, but I was chubby. As a teenager I was told I looked like a barrel and danced like one. I wasn’t/didn’t – I was just in a world where you had to be stick thin (ballet classes, amateur dramatics, disco dancing, dance school etc). As a teenager I did everything I could to be thin. I went to a hospital dietitian who started me on 1500 calories a day, then reduced it to 1400, then 1200, 1000 and when he suggested 800 I stopped going. I just wasn’t meant to be thin.
17 yr old me (in blue)
17 yr old me
When I stopped dancing at 19, the weight gradually crept on. In 1994/5 I joined Weight Watchers for the first time. I wanted to conceive and it wasn’t happening. I went with my mum. We both did very well. I lost 3½ stone and continued to attend meetings throughout my pregnancy. I breast-fed George and the pregnancy weight fell off.
But then it crept back on. And some more. My weight became an issue in my marriage, and was one of the issues that ended it I believe. I just wasn’t prepared to lose weight because someone else wanted me to. It may well have been that he wanted me to lose weight for all the right reasons, but it just wasn’t something I was willing to agree to. We separated, I lost some weight (as you do when you need some cock (sorry kids – don’t read that bit)). I met Andy as I was on my way from size 20 to size 16 (I was almost there).
2001 with my buddy Nicki
But then again, it crept back on. I’m now 2 stone heavier than I’ve ever been. Most of the time I am genuinely not-really-that-bothered about my weight. I’m confident and out-going and I’m told that people don’t really think of me as fat, they just think of me as me. But it has got out of control. Really out of control. I stopped dieting because I figured that dieting makes it worse. You lose weight, put it all back on, and then some. So I threw away the diet books. Stopped getting on the scales. But do you know what? That didn’t work.
I sat in that meeting today and just wanted to weep about what I’d done to myself. So. This is the year. I’m gonna get that fantastic figure (to go with my fantastic breasts and personality;o)). I’m going to lose 6 stone. The WW leader lost 4½ stone in 9 months. If she did it, I can. I’m going to take pride in doing this well. I’m going to treat it like a test that I must achieve 100% in. I’m going to post a before picture to shame myself into not going back.
This Christmas ... yes, I know, it's supposed to be hideous. I'd have found a better one if I was trying to impress ...
This is the year I’m going to stop killing myself. You heard it here. I’m going to remind myself each day of the reasons I want to lose weight, and the reasons I don’t want to abuse my body in this way and all of the things that losing the weight will enable me to do. Starting with the latter:
1. Go on whatever rides I wish to at theme parks without worrying about the barrier/seat-belt not fitting
2. Wear a swimsuit with pride
3. Be able to run (with the help of a firm support bra)
4. Wear lingerie and feel good in it instead of embarassed
5. Be able to turn heads again instead of having to have pink hair to do it
6. Sparkle (just generally)
7. (can’t mention that one on here)
This list is to be continued … and the photos will follow. I’m going to update this post and refer back to it. I have no will power, so need every tool in the box to help me. I know all the theory, I just have to find it in me to actually do it instead of thinking that its something that other people do. Wish me luck, encourage me. Don’t lecture me though. And a final warning: If I give up – don’t stand between me and the profiteroles – especially if I have a knife in my hand.
So ... the reasons why I must lose weight
1. I've crept up from 20 past 22 and bought my first pair of size 24 trousers (I'm embarassed to publish this - but I'm hoping the shame will motivate me to not go back)
2. I feel like my skin is too tight
3. I can't achieve the (ahem) positions I'd like to (moving swiftly on ...)
4. I'm missing out on doing active stuff with my kids
5. My belt digs in my waist
6. I can feel the fat squeezing over my bra, under my arms
7. It's an effort to do anything pretty much
8. I'm starting to lose my positive body image (yes, I'm still pretty much okay in my head, but I'm starting to see reality. See - I have the opposite to anorexia I think. I don't actually see how fat I am in the mirror - I look in the mirror and most of the time think - Yeah, that's fine.)
9. I'm having my first tattoo this weekend, and I'm having it on my forearm. I'll be honest that it's mainly because I'm embarassed about getting any other body part out for fear of revolting the tattooist. But I'm telling myself and everyone else that I'm having it there cos I saw someone with one there and it looked good (which is also true).
10. I'm eating food that I don't even particularly like. It wouldn't be so bad if I was enjoying the food that was making me fat. I just eat it out of habit.
More to come. Still more.
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