I'll start this post with my body info: F/30/5'4" SW: ~200 lbs CW: 156 lbs GW: 127 lbs. I've been on my journey for almost 6 months now.
I've struggled with my weight most of my life. The first half of my life, I definitely had an eating disorder. I was terrified of getting fat and barely ate. I was around 110 pounds from age 11 until I was 18. I became pregnant at 18, and by the time I had my daughter at age 19, I was 150 pounds. I was so ashamed of myself, but I never really did anything to fix it. Every now and then I'd go through kicks where I'd try to exercise a bunch and get discouraged a few weeks into it because I wasn't losing any weight. I didn't have internet access back then, and had no idea how to begin losing weight properly.
Six years ago, I was pregnant with my second daughter. I only craved fruit, vegetables, chicken, and sauerkraut, and worked 40 hours a week through the whole pregnancy. I actually lost weight the entire time I was pregnant with her. She was always at a healthy weight and the doctor said everything was fine. It was crazy! A month after I had her, I was down to 127 pounds and felt fantastic about myself!
About a year after I had her, I noticed some clothes getting tight. Some not fitting at all. Went through some really upsetting personal life stuff, depression settled in, and once my youngest was around 2, I was already back up to 150-160 pounds. Cue my youngest being age 4, and I'm avoiding my scale at all costs, but know I have to be pushing 200.
It was hard to get out of bed. Like seriously hard. I'd be winded from rolling over and getting myself seated upright. Every fucking morning I'd have to put my fitted sheet back on my mattress. God that was so annoying. I'd feel winded just from walking down the hall in my apartment. How on earth was everything just so hard? I was tired all the time, and I couldn't sleep well. Nothing I owned fit me; everything was too small, even all those giant clothes my aunt and cousin gave me when they got too big for them. I think that upset me the most. I didn't want to go anywhere because the only clothes that sort of fit me looked so trashy, and I refused to buy new, bigger clothing. That would make it too real, ya know? I had zero confidence. I was embarrassed for my husband to see me naked. My sex drive totally crashed. I hated shaving. It was so hard to reach anything, not to mentioned I'd get out of breath trying. When did I have so much leg to shave? How on earth am I suppose to shave my crotch when I can't even see the damn thing?! I couldn't play with my kids at the park. Just pushing them on a swing was tiring. All these other parents are running around with their kids, some are even starting giant games of tag at the park, and I'm over here red faced just pushing my kid on a swing. I couldn't squat down, I couldn't cross my legs anymore, I couldn't sit cross-legged. My ass hangs out of chairs. I couldn't quite reach the buckled for my seat belt without a struggle. Getting in and out of the car sucked. I was totally ashamed of my entire existence and my depression was devouring me.
Last February rolled around, which was a big deal for me. February 15th was my year anniversary for quitting smoking. I'd spent the first half of the month reading the sidebar of r/loseit and digging through every post on r/progresspics sorted by new. The info I learned and the motivation I gained from everything really put a kick start in my journey. I can't thank both of these communities enough!
I decided CICO was the way to go for me. I bought a food scale and started counting calories on February 18th. The scale I had at the time was awful and I'm not really sure my starting weight. It may have been over 200, honestly. A week into it, I bought a digi body scale and weighed in at 197. I started walking in my apartment, back and forth in my hallway. 20 minutes the first few days, slowly increasing the amount. I'm sure you're thinking, that must have been so boring, walking up and down your hallway. But it was cold outside, and I didn't want any witnesses to what i was doing anyways. I remember trying to do situps and crying because there was just so much fat in my way that I just couldn't do it! In high school I could do 60 situps a minute. Goddammit how could I let myself go like this?!
I learned quickly that was I eating way too much of really shitty foods, I couldn't believe how high calorie everything was. I stopped eating some of my favorite foods altogether, just to avoid the desire to binge on them. I would load of my plate with a lot more vegies than anything else, because those are low calorie and filling, and I dont want to be hungry. I kept my calorie count below 1800. I'm still doing that, actually.
Before too long, walking down the hall went from 20 minutes to an hour, to walking at least 10k steps a day. It was getting easier. I bought some 8 pound hand weights and started using them. I'd throw in some squats. Some low impact jumping jacks. I'm still easily winded, but it's starting to feel good. About a month and a half in, I found some low impact cardio workouts on YouTube and I'd do that a couple times a week. Three weeks into that and I could complete the half hour videos without pausing. The weight was coming off, I could see it already. Clothes are fitting better, my confidence is coming back. My daily walks in the hall started the addition of 30 seconds of jogging every few minutes. Jogging?! I couldn't believe I could do that! A whole minute? Oh wow, I jogged 10 whole minutes one day! No way!
I've went through periods of time where I couldn't exercise because I pissed off my herniated disc in my lumbar spine, but never stopped counting those calories. The weight would come off slower as a result, but that's okay! I knew I'd get back to it when I could. Over this summer, I've been experimenting with lazy CICO, just to see if I can manage eating meals I prepare often without spending forever calculating what I can eat from, say my homemade lasagna, because I'm not going to lie, I fucking hate math. I think I was underestimating at first because my weight stalled for awhile. I still track everything but I'm not weighing all of it. So I started overestimating certain things and now it's my weight loss is getting back on track.
My youngest started kindergarten last Tuesday. Now I have five days a week where I can have time to myself to really focus on exercise like I've been wanting. After dropping her off at school, I go to a park nearby and walk around the pond. Thursday I decided about half way into my walk that I should run here and there. Friday, I decided there were going to be two spots around the pond where I'd run from point A to point B, and I would make myself do it the whole walk until I met my step goal of 11k. It wasn't exactly the easiest thing, since I've never been a runner, but it wasn't super hard, either. And I was SHOCKED when I checked my fitbit later and saw that I ran a total of 47 minutes. SAY WHAT?! NO FUCKING WAY! And I felt great after! Barely even winded after just a moment or two of rest. Felt like I could do it again, if my shins weren't killing me, haha.
Most of my clothes are hanging off of me and look trashy, but it's trashy in a good way this time. I've picked up a few outfits here and there, but I'm waiting to lose more before going clothing shopping for real. I've lost over 40 pounds in 6 months. I remember thinking I'd never be able to accomplish this. I remember wanting to succumb to that stupid voice in my head that said you can't, don't bother, you're fat and worthless and you need to accept it. I'm glad I didn't listen to it. I basically spring out of bed now. I can chase my kids around all day at the park and love every minute of it. I'm fitting back into old clothes and throwing out those fat clothes my relatives passed down to me. I feel beautiful and confident and my sex drive is back.
When my motivation was lacking, I'd dig through posts here, and on r/progress pics. I'd make a projected weekly weight sheet based off of my personal weight loss data, so I could see where I might be in a few months. I'd take weekly photos, weekly measurements. I'd encourage people online and ask a lot of questions. I'd remind myself that no matter what, this time will pass anyways, I might as well keep pushing forward even if it seems like nothing is changing.
I still have 30 pounds to go until my goal weight, but I will get there. And you will, too! Don't give up on yourself, you'll be so happy and proud of yourself in a few months! I didn't think I could, but I did. Persistence is key. Don't compare yourself to others, only to your past self. Progress, not perfection! I have faith in you, even if you don't.
Bonus: Here's some of my progress pics from the last month!
Thanks for reading this long-winded rant about my journey, whoever you are. I hope I was able to help someone, and feel free to ask me anything! ♡
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