I've always been fat. Or at least, I've always thought I was fat.
I grew up in a severely abusive and terrifying household. Food was how I coped. I've been obsessed with food and my body my entire life. I used to sneak food to bed after my family was asleep. My dad caught me once and laughed at me.
I've been dieting since I was 5. I was bullied for my body as a child, by everyone - family, parents, kids on the playground. My mom once made me weigh myself in front of one of my aunts, and then screamed at me for being so fat because my dad used to blame her for my fatness. I thought I was the ugliest little girl ever. Actually, when I look back - yes, I was round. I was chubby. But I was lovable. I deserved hugs and love. Not to be abused.
I was terrified in gym class of being looked at, so I would try not to be noticed. Boys in particular would bully me. I was told my entire life by boys and men that I was ugly as fuck.
I lost a lot of weight when I was 13/14. I was working out ridiculous amounts - 2-3 hours at the gym, 5-6 times per week sometimes - and eating a low-fat diet (which I now know was a disaster for my body). I calorie counted obsessively and was always hungry. But I lost a lot of weight. I was still pretty big, according to the numbers on the scale - 185 or so, at just under 5'8" - but I was curvy, muscular, wore a size 12-14 (which, at that time, was smaller than what we call a 12-14 today), and frankly, looking back, I think I was beautiful. But I thought I was hideous, and that no one would ever want me.
Then I gained a lot of weight in university. Up to 267 pounds. Then I lost a bunch of weight once I found out I had metabolic syndrome (that's what they used to call the combination of insulin resistance, high blood pressure, high cholesterol) and PCOS. Over time, I realized that limiting sugar and carbs was key for me. I eventually got down to somewhere between 190-200 pounds by my early 20s. When I figured this out, I cursed everyone that ever told me to eat low-fat and whole grains. Fucking hell.
Ever since my last round of "big" weight loss in my early/mid-20s, it has been a battle. I go up by 20 pounds; down by 10; up by 30 pounds; down by 25. This cycle has happened 2-3 times since I was 24. But since my early 30s, it has just been a steady weight gain.
I know that if I limit sugar and carbs in particular, that is the most helpful thing. But the fallout of my upbringing and the severe mental health issues have made it so hard not to look for a reward and comfort from food, that I have often not been able to find anywhere else. Not, it's not a question of not trying to go for a walk or call a friend or save for a reward of some kind. It's a question of white knuckling it through moments of intense stress, fear, loneliness, dissociation and anxiety. Much like it was for my father with his severe battle with alcohol, and for my family members that have battled with hard drugs, some of whom have died as a result.
After almost 20 years of trying to get help, I finally had a doctor ask me, incredulously, in my mid-30s if I had ever had trauma therapy before. This was after I finally read The Body Keeps the Score, and was going through a period where I didn't care if I lived or died. My mom had cancer. My dad was clearly falling apart, to the point where I couldn't understand how he was still alive. My sisters were going through severe issues of their own. I was being abused and bullied by a boss everyday in a toxic workplace. I was alone. Had no friends I could turn to. I was ready to walk off my job and leave my life and ... I don't know what. But I couldn't keep going.
Before I get slammed by anyone for "making excuses" - I share the above to say that I'm terrified that I'll never beat the food addiction, and the addiction to sugar and carbs in particular. But I know I have to try, and I need support and a community to help make it happen, that frankly, isn't the people in my "real" life, because I feel so ashamed and I do not want to talk to the people in my "real" life about attempts to lose weight that I'm terrified will become a very public failure, yet again.
Yesterday, I weighed myself for the first time in months. 272.2 pounds. I'm "lucky", in that I don't look THAT big. I mean, I'm clearly fat - but I have always looked anywhere from 30-50 pounds thinner than my actual weight.
But my skin is breaking out again. The length of my menstrual cycle has gone from 30 days to 40 days. My acanthosis nigricans is back. And my blood pressure has been consistently high for the last 2-3 years. I don't even want to know my blood sugar and cholesterol readings. For the first time in my life, I have a constant double chin, even when I'm not smiling.
I finally have a partner and boyfriend that I truly think loves me. I finally have found a career path that suits me. I finally have found a calling in life, working on a project that I think will make a huge difference in the world, if it takes off. And I'm finally creating a space of my own - a home - that feels like a haven at the end of the day.
It is finally time to take care of me. "Self-care" isn't just some instagram bullshit that gets hashtagged to death. It's an actual life skill, one that I never learned. I am still not quite sure how to do this without also hating myself, or shaming myself. I'm not sure how to turn acts of eating right for my metabolism, or going to yoga, or signing up for yet another gym membership, into acts of self-love, instead of self-hate. But I think that is what I have to figure out, if I'm going to white-knuckle through the fear and stress and anxiety and all the emotions that keep me turning to food and going on autopilot through life, taking care of everyone else's needs before my own.
In June 2020, I will turn 40. I want the next 40 years of my life to be really fucking great. I do not want diabetes, heart disease, Alzheimers, dementia ... all of the things that run in my family, and that are certain to come for me very, very soon, if I don't change now.
What I am going to do:
- check out a new yoga studio this weekend with a friend
- also check out a potential new gym this weekend, that is a bit more "luxe" than the shitty ones around my house, and has a pool and sauna/steamroom (nice reward to look forward to)
- get groceries this weekend, to set me up to have moderate/low-carb breakfasts and lunches in particular over the next week
- hard boil a bunch of eggs for breakfasts/snacks
- make low-carb salmon cakes for easy lunches, to eat over salad
- make some chili for dinners
So ... wish me well?
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