If you feel like your weight loss journey doesn't make any sense... I hope my experience can help you a little bit.
I was always overweight. As long as I can remember. Even in kindergarten (preschool?) kids were making fun of me. It felt terrible. When I was 15 I was already stage 2 obese. I wasn't eating SO much, but I was never going out beside to school, due to developing anxiety and depression, also... I had no friends anyway. My parents tried to help but what can they do. I had my own money. Gift from someone, my pocket money etc. What could they do? I'd always find a way.
The year before I went to high school I decided to lose it all. I decided high school is going to be my time, and my new life. So I started exercising, weighting myself every day, eating much less, etc. At first it was going fast. I lost first 10 kg without much of a trouble.
And then, something happened in my life. Something horrible, that I'll be scarred with for the rest of my life. I don't want to say exactly what, but it was extremely traumatic. And then it began. To get my mind off it I started being obsessed. I was exercising till I passed out. I wouldn't eat anything whole day, just to eat maybe 800 calories next day, and it went like this for weeks. Starved, I finally binged. I ate crazily much... and then I puked. All of it.
I lost the weight. I was normal. Still a little chubby though, and there were days I LOVED it. It looked cute, but healthy. But there were days I hated it and hated myself. Because whatever I ate, I purged. I ate half of a big pizza, just to puke in the forest that was close to my block. I hid it well. Bulimia, binge eating, anemia. I was weak. I was fainting all the time. I was cold. My veins got so weak I'd bruise like a peach.
I was close to dying, but everyone congratulated me. Everyone was so proud of me. My entire family. "BlueberryBananas isn't fat anymore! Amazing!" So I didn't seek help. I was tying my waist with a damn SHOELACE to make sure I wouldn't eat too much, and every... 0.1 of a kg on a scale meant either fasting all the next day or purging everything I ate today.
Finally... I couldn't handle it anymore. I dropped out two months before graduation. I moved out of the country, away from my parents, to my boyfriend at the time. I wanted to stay there for just a short while to get a job then and get my own apartment, but he saw in what terrible state I was and let me stay.
And then... the depression happened. I don't remember that two years. I just don't. Every single day same as the other. Emotional outbreaks, eating trash, not going out for weeks. I'd get money from my parents, being paid shit for some stupid articles to minor magazines nobody ever reads... and I just existed.
I woke up one day. Having gained half of the weight back. I started purging again. At some point we both held a bunch of pills in our hands, sure that we both want to go. We both want to die. But then... WE MOVED OUT. We moved out of this old, disgusting flat, he finished his school, he was now a professional programmer. He got a great job. We got a beautiful flat and I... Something changed it me. When I saw him achieving all this I wanted to do it too.
I started exercising again, slowly changing our diet to contain more vegetables and fruit, less unhealthy fat, soda etc.. I wanted to make sure it would be a lifestyle change, not a "diet", I'd inevitably drop and start binging and purging again.
It's been 8 months. I still struggle sometimes. I still feel the urge to puke after a larger meal. But I stopped looking at the scale. I just count calories (NOT MUCH, I just add more or less to MyFitnessPal), I make sure I get all the proper nutrition, but I also sometimes eat a burger, or a pizza. But I'm able to eat just a piece or two, and eat the burger on half with someone or slowly, and exercise a bit more the next day. It's a fight. A fight you can win, only if you learn healthy habits.
Today I fit in my old jeans. The ones I had when I was approaching healthy weight. I am working with a publisher, to get my book printed. I'm engaged. I have a beautiful flat, I'm able to keep clean. I have three cats. I'm getting better. Progress feels amazing. Don't give up guys. It will be worth it.
((EXPLANATION, before I get the questions. I moved from Poland to Germany, I do know the language, partly, but not enough to feel comfortable with speaking fluently every day (due to anxiety as well), what was a source of my problems with getting a job here. I moved out when I was 18, soon to be 19. This is when you pass final exams and graduate high school in Poland. I was studying pretty well, that wasn't the reason why I left.))
