Last night, I was out for dinner with Ronnie and Auntie Candy Vagine to wish Duffy a great trip to Thailand. I’m really kind of jealous, now that I think about it- he’s going to be eating the best food for the next two months, and be losing weight too. Lucky kid. Anyway, while I was out, and watching those around me eat, I noticed that I had gotten rid of a problem that was bothering me since I was fifteen years old.
So, Auntie Candy was sitting and minding her own business, when I noticed that a little driplet of salad dressing had fallen off her fork and onto her busty mammary glands. I had advised her and she said in her loudest voice “Oh, those damn titties, always getting in the damn way”. I thought I was in a movie or something, but it actually really happened. It made me think, and I realized that this was a common occurrence in my life, and it had actually not happened in the last little while. I didn’t have boobies for bibs anymore, or maybe I’m just more careful. Who knows?
Let’s backtrack a little actually, I only got those “damn titties” when I turned fifteen. I was flat chested my entire life, and my mom kept asking when I would get them. She was really annoying about it. One day, they appeared. Either I ate something really fattening that got stuck at that part of my body, or my mom said I really HUGE prayer. Anyway. needless to say, those “damn titties” became such a big part of my life… literally. They were always in the way. I hardly fit into Victorias Secret, and I needed to wear those granny bras. Sometimes I thank God that I didn’t have to go so far as to get the bras that had the clasp in the front.
So here is my NSV (non scale victory) I am finally free of the evil boobie bibs! I have never been happier. Ronnie must also be happy, because there is way less laundry for her to do now!
One thing I’ve realized, is that you’re not truly ready to do something until you’re ready to do it for yourself. When I started on my diets fifteen years ago, I only did them to make my mom or the rest of my family proud. It makes sense that in the end, all of these diets were sabotaged, and I ended up ballooning instead of shrinking.
From February 4th 2013, I made it my mission, that everything I did, I would do it for myself. If I wasn’t serious about doing it for myself, then it ultimately wouldn’t happen. While I love each and every persons support, and it means so much; I now realize that I’m not doing this to please other people. I am doing this to make myself happy.
I have never been more happy than I have been today. I can finally say that I love myself, that I am happy when I look in the mirror, and that I wouldn’t change a thing about me. If I had to stay where I was today, at 208 pounds, then fine; let it be. I’m healthier than I’ve been in forever, I’m happier, and I have a reason to wake up every morning.
I am tired of trying to please others. I’m happy I took the time to do it for myself, because look who’s smiling now.
Dear Skinny Girls,
I finally know what it’s like to be in your shoes and to be made fun of for our stick figures.
There are mutliple forms of eating disorders. While the two most common ones may be anorexia and bulimia, there’s also binge eating disorder, pica syndrome, or even compulsive overeating.
Let’s just go over a few things:
Anorexia: No food intake. Seriously, even eating a cracker makes the anorexic suffer. I don’t suffer from this, because I like to eat, and I get headaches when I don’t eat anything for two hours at a time.
Bulimia: binge eating followed by purging. Even if I tried to do this, I wouldn’t be able to, because my tiny banana sized stomach can’t even handle one little piece of food.
Pica syndrome: wanting to eat non food items. Ie- tin cans or bits of string. I cannot eat tin cans specifically because that would tear my stomach and then I’d be back at square one, and would be back on the table with Dr. McDreamy.
Compulsive Overeating: Do I need to say more? Eating until the point we get sick. While this is not characterized as an eating disorder as of yet, it should be. I used to be a compulsive over eater, I have learned to control myself, and I am happy to say that I am just a regular eater as of now.
I used to judge people, and call them anorexic and not think about how it could affect peoples feelings. I know that I didn’t like being called “fatass or fatty” or any of those mean names. I apologize to the people that I’ve hurt, and I take back what I said. I don’t like being accused of being something that I’m not.
I guess I learned my lesson the hard way!
I meant it when I said that all people have addictive personalities. If this wasn’t the case, then why would over 80% of our population be on anti depressants? Yes, I am the first to admit, that I have an addictive personality. Whether we choose to believe this or not, we all have this trait, and as much as you tell yourself you are not that person, here’s a reality check– you are. For example, if you’re the worrying type, and you begin to dwell on something long enough, and let it take over your head, you are addicted to worrying, or suffer from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder; but who’s paying attention, right? To have an addictive personality, doesn’t only have to be seen as a detrimental quality, but in some cases, this can be acceptable and in some cases positive.
While for the last twenty years this addiction was food, I am learning to ween it on to something else. Perhaps instead of developing an alcohol or drug addiction, I can take this addictive behaviour and turn it into something positive. I want to be the one that is addicted to working out, addicted to being healthy, addicted to love, addicted to helping others. Addiction isn’t always a negative thing; as antagonistic people may make it out to be. Admitting that I do suffer from these fixations, does not make me a weaker person. In fact, quite contrary, it makes me stronger. So what? I’m addicted to food. Who doesn’t like food. I wouldn’t have had my stomach surgically removed if there wasn’t a problem there. I’m opening up to the world, and not hiding it anymore. If I chose to hide this quality about me, then there would have been a bigger problem.
So maybe my previous food addiction was my demise, but one thing’s for sure, feeling better, getting healthier, looking sharper and channelling my energy in positive ways every day is my new addiction!
I don’t have control. I cannot stop myself from doing anything. I have a highly addictive personality. Since giving up food, I have become obsessed with scratch cards. I sit at home like a sad old cat lady and scratch cards and play on my TV dinner table, while I pet my dog. This happens every weeknight. Today I bought lunch, and while I tried to eat as much as I could, I found myself ready to puke in my bowl. Why was I trying to do this to myself? Why was I trying to fill up my pouch to its full capacity? Why am I trying to sabotage something, when I worked so hard to get it in the first place? I’m not trying to do these things, it’s all subconscious, but I need to take responsibility for my actions. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that you had weight loss surgery, sometimes it’s easy to fall head over heels in love with your food, and want to shovel it down until you feel sick. Sometimes, though, it goes too far.
Mothers, dentists, doctors, turn away because you’re not going to want to hear what’s coming next. I have made myself so sick to the point that I throw up. Regularly. My teeth have begun to rot, and are now turning black and have stain all over them. Sometimes I need to stop and ask myself if the food is really worth it? Is the food really worth my gorgeous $4000 smile? Is the food really worth my life. I need to put down the fork and tell myself enough is enough.
I like food. Food is fun. Food is not my friend. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve told myself that food is not the enemy, and that we need food to live not live to eat food. I can tell myself that crap over and over again, but it still won’t change my old habits.
The only thing that actually helps me is looking in the mirror, and noticing a difference, and being able to walk up the stairs and not be out of breath, to take Genius for a walk and want to go for a thirty minute walk, instead of a thirty second walk. When I can complete a class of Crossfit, I want to continue putting down the fork at the right time, I want to look in the mirror and feel confident.
Mondays are the days that Celeste and I visit Crossfit together. Walking into class, I was reminded of my terrible past as a child, while seeing grown adults sweat and struggle, hanging on bars. This reminded me of the days when all the other kids were doing the monkey bars and I would just sit there patiently and wonder what it would be like to hang from this metal structure. I was never able to fully get myself up there, or hold myself up for that matter. I had all these friends who were able to do baby Yoga while hanging on one leg; their parents must have been creepy old gymnast people I guess.
Actually, now that I think about it, Crossfit is all about being up bad childhood pasts. Like every time before class, I need to do 300 skips with a skipping rope. I don’t do skipping rope, ok? I look over to the side and there’s this beast-looking-woman skipping away, not breaking a sweat like she has absolutely no care in the world. She needs friends. I got off topic, I was talking about my childhood… I remember in elementary school there was this game; “Cinderella, Cinderella dressed in yellow.. ” whatever, I think Cinderella died at the end of that song. However, I don’t remember, I never made it to the end of the song, because I was always disqualified for tripping on the jump rope. Kids were mean.
There are these big oversized, scary looking ropes that hang in the gym. These really intimidate me, and I hope that one day I will never have to go up them. I remember in elementary school there was this girl who was able to climb up the rope in 0.2 seconds, and I was still at the bottom struggling to even get off the ground. I never want to use the ropes, ropes aren’t for fun. Why don’t we just use the stairs?
As scared as I may be of Crossfit, it’s also the greatest workout of my life, I have never pushed myself so hard, I always have a good time, except yesterday, the trainer was eating something delicious while we were working our asses off, how rude. Celeste and I purchased another 10 classes. Here we go again!
I want chips. No I don’t. Yes I do. No I don’t. No I don’t. Chips aren’t even that good. If I really wanted something delicious, I would go for something greasy, like Pad Thai. I never thought I would say this, but most of my cravings are actually going away. Instead of thinking of a particular food in my head for hours, and making it my mission to get it, I just move on and think of the next thing. It’s very strange to me, but I’m enjoying this new life of mine.
By the way, my post on Thursday was maybe just a tad bit cryptic. I really do like Beyonce, and just wanted her to know how much I loved and appreciated her. I’m not a single lady, and I don’t need a ring on it. I need to love me more before I can start thinking about my future. That’s all.