Everything Is Bad For Me


My life has been spectacular these last couple of weeks! Donald and I took a vacation to Florida two weeks ago. I’m now black, and I must say, it’s extremely slimming. It sucks though because I know I can’t tan every day. I mean, I could always try and find a job selling beach chairs and digging umbrellas in the sand on some private island for fancy tourists, but that’s manual labor, and manual labor and I don’t really mix well together.

Why is it that everything I like doing is bad for me? Food makes me fat, suntanning with oil and Coca-Cola all over my body will cause skin cancer. It’s like I don’t like anything that’s good for me…except pickles. Pickles are amazing snacks.. but now that I think of it, I think they’re really high in sodium and probably bad for me too. So, my weight loss stall has stopped, and things are moving again! In this last month, I have gone down like three cheek sizes on my face, and lost another chin. Ronnie Ginger, my non-abusive-very-loving-but-extremely-critical-mother finally notices a change and tells me every time she sees me that I’m changing and that I’m so pretty! I’ve been talking to myself a lot lately. I remind myself that the candies which are at me straight in the face are dumb and will make my teeth yellow and stomach fat. Now, when I sit in the car, my stomach doesn’t really go anywhere near the steering wheel for the first time in a long time I could see more toes than ever when I look down! I’ve also banned myself from the scale. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m afraid to see what the number is, or because if I get on the scale and lose, I know I’ll treat myself to a cheat day, that will turn into a cheat week, that will turn into fat cheeks and a triple chin. Either way, I know that the scale is not my friend and the only person that can weigh me is my doctor. The scale is evil, not nice.

Life is good, things are looking up, and the scale is going down!

Morning Hikes


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This weekend, my lovely amazing boyfriend thought it would be a marvelous idea to go take a hike in our backyard. I wish I was kidding, but I’m not. We seriously have a mountain trail for walking, (which I think is mostly up hill) in our backyard. So we went for an effing hike. My walk started off terribly. Some skinny, older lady, around 50, with bushy eyebrows, gave us two fatties a face like “really, you think you’re going to walk all this? Please go home” and then she started doing this stupid stretch, from that point  her face just really bothered me and I didn’t want to be anywhere near her. While she was still stretching at the bottom of the hill and me and Donald decided to start our adventurous walk. This workout started off with an abundance of stairs, followed by a ten minute uphill climb. I was ready to go home after my first asthma attack, but Donald suggested that we keep going. As we’re walking, bushy eyebrow lady decides to walk ahead of us to make us feel even fatter. I know it was intentional, because she gave us a stupid face as she walked by. Seriously Greta, I don’t need your stares, I get enough of those from my mom (love you Mama Bear). So, at this point, I’m pissed off, and I just want to find a bench and sit-for a long time. Sitting is one of my favorite pastimes, especially in public places, because I absolutely adore people watching. After sitting down for about thirty seconds,  I looked down at my fat stomach, and told myself that I don’t want to wear Spanx for the rest of my life, so I’m going to need to keep on going. 40 minutes later, we had finally made it, and with our beautiful walk, we had the most beautiful view of our city! It was only fitting to act like tourists and take some selfies while we were at it!

 

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Beautiful view of our beautiful city Montreal

 

After we had finished our photo shoot, I was so excited to get home, and to get into a shower and do nothing for the rest of the day. Donald, my amazingly, surprising fantastic boyfriend tells me that we’re only halfway there, and we have 1.3 kilometers to go. I told him he was funny and then started to walk home. He gave me the same face as Greta gave me an hour earlier. I then chased a squirrel, and proceeded to fake my second asthma attack. It didn’t work. We trekked up, and I literally counted every single one of my steps, counting down until it was over. My walking companion was fantastic, but honestly, the amount of fit people that I saw there, made me sick and really uncomfortable. Also, it was like -10, I was wearing a blanket and I was sweating like a horse. Do horses sweat? I don’t know, but if they did, I was sweating like one.  After another half hour, we FINALLY made it to the top of the mountain. Two Jews, on Easter checking out a huge Cross at the top of Montreal, that’s what we did this weekend!

When it came time to go home and we started our walk down the hill, I was already two snacks overdue, and I saw some people BBQ’ing. Donald told me it wasn’t right to walk over and ask for some hot dogs.

The rest of the way home, I complained of a backache, only because I wanted a massage, but D wouldn’t give in. Rude. I’m just happy we completed the whole thing. I would have been a lot more depressed if I would have sat on a bench all morning.

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Honesty: I Gained Weight


I strongly believe that the only way you can truly fix mistakes, is by being honest. It’s quite obvious that something is wrong with me, as I went from blogging everyday, to blogging once every twelve days. I pretty much went into hiding because truthfully, I’m not happy. For the last couple of months, I’ve been in a sad, dark place  because I’m so embarrassed and ashamed of myself. I feel like I let my doctor down, like I left my family and friends down, and that I’ve let most importantly, myself down.

So, on that note, it’s time that I come clean. I gained weight. Not a ton, not anything huge, but to me, even a pound is huge. I put on eight pounds since July of last year. Obviously I haven’t been 100% because otherwise I would have been in a bikini by now. Literally, I would have been wearing bikinis everyday to work, even in this horrible winter weather. Honestly, I have no one to blame but myself. I obviously did this to myself. I figured I could hide it, and just keep it to myself, and no one would say anything to me about. It’s kind of funny actually, people don’t really need to say anything to me, just the glance, and the disappointment in their face is all I really need to know that I have screwed this thing up. When people look down at my stomach and say things like “Oh, how’s it going? How much do you weigh now?” or “I know 5 people who have had the surgery and they lost all their weight faster than you, I’m not sure why it’s not working for you”, I get it. I don’t need to be reminded.  I look in the mirror at myself everyday and know that I am fat, and I know that I have let everyone down.

The people that don’t want me to succeed and always have something negative to say about my weight loss, are going to love reading this, but the people that really matter, are going to support me, and love me and know how hard it was for me to say that I gained eight pounds. I think the more I say it, the more real it is, and the more of a wake up call it is for me to do something about this. This surgery is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I can’t screw this up like I’ve screwed up everything else. I literally have had my insides cut up and removed. People save up money and go into debt for surgeries like this. I’m just taking my time and eating things that I know I shouldn’t be eating. It’s so easy for me to tell other people what they should and shouldn’t eat, and then I go shove my face with mini eggs because they’re so damn delicious? Those damn mini eggs are going to kill me if I don’t just shove a carrot in my mouth and move on already!

So on a positive, and moving forward note, I actually wrote all my food down for two weeks, even the french fries, I wrote it all down. Everything was in my little Weight Watchers book, and just by logging my food, I was able to lose two pounds by my second weigh in at the doctors (2 weeks).  I’m so incredibly proud of myself, and I am making a promise to myself, and to the rest of the world; to everyone reading this and supporting me, and helping me, that I will take this seriously from this point on. I didn’t go through surgery, and intense pain to get fat again. This is not the life I want.

So now, I am officially up six pounds from my lowest weight last July. Instead of working on big goals, like saying I want to lose 40 pounds by May 1, I want to lose 7 pounds by my next doctors appointment, on April 28. I will take any and all positive encouragement I can get. Nasty comments and looks really don’t help me, in fact they only bring me down.

Here’s to being honest, and here’s to getting back to my adventure! 

 

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Happy Surgaversary To Me!


One year ago today, at this very moment, my life changed forever. I distinctly remember driving to the hospital, worrying why I wasn’t worried. I was hungry as I hadn’t eaten any solid food two weeks prior; maybe that’s why my stomach was rumbling. The admitting department at the hospital took me in so quickly, I didn’t even have enough time to hug Donald or my Mama Ronnie Ginger. The next thing I know, I’m sitting in some room with a man telling me I’m not fat and I don’t need this surgery. He also told me to get undressed into a robe and throw all my clothes into a garbage bag, how demanding, I’m not that easy– I momentarily thought I was in prison. After getting undressed, sitting on a hospital chair half naked, and waiting in a  waiting room with terrible magazines, for what felt like an eternity. The friendly nurse in a Caribbean accent yelled my name and told me to follow her. I was so excited because it was finally happening, my life was about to change. I was so eager to wear my shower cap and slippers, but truthfully, I just wanted to hug my mommy. I was sitting in a hallway, waiting and waiting for someone to tell me what was going to happen next. All of a sudden, an overweight man gets wheeled out of the room I was about to go into. I immediately hopped out of the bed they had placed me in, and began to have second thoughts about what I was doing. Just as I was ready to leave the bed, Dr. McDreamy came over, and told me I had nothing to worry about and that he was going to go eat something; I would have offered to join him, but given my current situation, I guess it’s best I didn’t invite myself.

So I get wheeled into the room, and all I see are these big huge lights everywhere, and TV monitors, and I really felt like I was on a terrible episode of some Hospital TV Drama. Some dude out of nowhere pops his head up, and I hear him say “ready for the Propofol now…”, I respond with “Isn’t that how Michael Jackson died?”…and then I woke up. Apparently after they injected me with this marvelous sleeping aid, I fell asleep for what felt like five minutes, and they removed my beloved stomach. Well they left me with 25% of it. The only thing I remember after that is being so thirsty and wanting to burp. I asked everyone around me to burp me because I couldn’t breathe. I was the worst patient ever, and to this day I can’t believe I acted like a wild rabid goose. Fun fact, when I got wheeled into my gorgeous studio hospital suite, I was greeted by my lovely mother videotaping the entire grand entrance. Since I was too incompetent to speak a full sentence, I just yelled at her like a fat horse and told her to stop it. She then told me I act like my grandmother, and I then politely made her leave my room. How rude.

Fastforward one year, and this has been the craziest, most extreme life change I have ever gone through. I have become a different person both physically and emotionally. I’ve found a new found confidence in myself, and I’ve also found a voice for myself. I never thought the day would come when I would say that I love myself and that I’m so proud of what I’ve accomplished. While I’m only halfway there, I’m still proud of myself that I was able to get here. I still have another forty more pounds to go, and I am proud of myself. I don’t compare myself to others in my situation, because everyone is different. I’ve learned to not let the little things people say get to me, and I’m really happy with that. Letting people out of my life has been a breeze, and I don’t hold on to the little things anymore. Of course I have my bad days, and I slip up, but I know that my journey isn’t done. While some people might say that I haven’t lost enough, or I’m not where I should be compared to other people, every persons body is different, and reacts to the surgery differently. Also, just another fun fact, losing the weight slower will help me in keeping it off for good. If I lost it all in five months, I know it’s easier to gain them back after, so thanks k bye. It’s really hard to say goodbye to something you love, in this case, I had to say goodbye to food. Food was just something that was always there, and always able to keep me company, and not something that ever did any good for me.

I’m eating to live now, not living to eat.

My weight loss struggle/story/battle/life is not over, and it never will be. I’m proud of who I am, and how far I have come. I know I have a lot more to go, but with the encouragement of my friends and family, and the pretty girl I see in the mirror, I know I can accomplish anything.

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Screw You!


One thing I have learned post surgery, is learning to love me and learning to not let things that other people say, bother me. We all learned the sticks and stones in elementary school, we might as well practice what we were taught. When it comes to my blog, I have been told so many times that what I write  is offensive, or hurtful, or rude or mean. Frankly, I really don’t care. I also will not make this blog post to say the usual “it’s my blog, I’m going to say what I want” because I seem to say that a lot recently. But it is my blog, and I WILL say what I want.When it comes to my weight, I’ve been called every name imaginable, a pig, an oaf (I don’t even know what that means, it just sounds fat) lazy, dumb, stupid… everything.

The fat girl who used to be me, used to let people walk all over her. Used to be the person that cared too much what other people thought. I used to be so self conscious, I would bury myself in food because I didn’t want anyone to criticize me (look how that backfired, and look how far it got me! When someone insulted me, I would take it, and walk away without fighting back. Who does that? Who just takes that. Over the last nine months, I have learned to stand up for myself, and I have especially learned that the people who criticize, are the ones who have the most deep rooted issues. You see, friendly people of the blogging world, my so-called deep rooted issues, aren’t so deep. I’m not hiding anything, I’m not keeping anything a secret, or leaving it up to anyones imagination. I’m me, and shesjustpleasantlyplump.com is who I am! I say everything that comes to mind, every feeling, every emotion I have. I write it down. I truly believe that this has made me a stronger person and made me who I am today. Being able to openly discuss my struggles, and be comfortable enough to share my stories, and to share how I feel makes me a better person than anyone who has ever called me a name.

Whether it be someone on the street, a friend, a boss, whoever. People say hurtful things because they want to feel better about themselves. I’m no angel. I’ve spoken terribly about some people; but I will admit that the reasoning for that is because I’m masking something, and hiding other emotions. I’m not going to pull the Bully card out and feel bad for myself. I don’t choose to be bullied by those around me.

I use this post as one to stand up to those mean people. So here it goes, I don’t swear, so I will try to be as mean and tough as possible. To the people who are demeaning, and make you feel useless and worthless, screw you. To the people who sit behind their computer screens, and be bullies through e-mail or other social media avenues, screw you. To the people who choose to only see the bad in you, and the people who choose to believe that you’re nothing more than just a living thing, screw you.

 

I have made something of myself, and I have come so far. If you don’t like me, goodbye.

I’m Missing My Chef Hat


There are two things that I really like. Food, and friends. I also really enjoy cooking for friends. Let me get to the point. I like baking. I love standing in my hell hole of a kitchen in my hell hole of an apartment, wearing an apron and chef hat. I bake. I can bake cookies, and muffins, and cakes, and puddings, and everything a fat kid can imagine. I bake deliciously.  When I bake, I feel like a wizard with a caldron. I throw ingredients all over the place, I sing, I splash, I make a mess… I love it! As much as I love the baking process, I don’t  love to eat my baked goods, but I sure do  love to share them. I share them on Instagram and go #hashtag crazy, and I also share them with friends.

I guess in my weight loss journey, if I bake for everyone, and everyone else around me gets a little more juicy and plump, then I’ll look even better even sooner. Calm down everyone, just a joke! I’m losing weight, while baking! Let’s face it, I can’t eat them. As much as I would like to, I am well aware that if I did,  someone would find me shaking on the floor, with my slow beating heat, and chocolate dripping down my face.

Eating cookies and cakes aren’t for me. I enjoy baking, and I find it extremely relaxing. Everyone around me can enjoy my sugary, buttery treats, and I will enjoy my apple.

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Chocolate Cake, Milk Chocolate Icing,  A Crap Ton of M&M’s all surrounded by 12 Kit Kat Bars

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It’s A Girl Cookies! Sugar Cookies. Sugar, Butter (Margarine), Flour, Love, Food Coloring

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Chocolate Cupcakes, Cream Cheese Icing, Sprinkles, Chocolate Chips. Yum .

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Shortbread Cookies With Chocolate Drizzle… low fat chocolate, doesn’t really make a difference at this point.

Helpful Tips For Full Stomach Sized People


Since my surgery, I have noticed a lot of changes. Changes in my body, in my health, in my breathing while walking up stairs, and also personality and my confidence. I’ve also noticed a lot of changes in the ways that others treat me. While I’m not trying to point fingers at anyone, there should be a couple of things that should be made clear:

1) People who have had weight loss surgery are people too. While we may be trying to lose weight, it doesn’t mean that we don’t have sweets, or treat ourselves once in a while. If I want to taste a cupcake, I will taste a cupcake. It is in absolutely positutely no way anyone elses place to tell me that I can’t have a cupcake, and/or give me a motherly face that cupcakes are bad for me. I know cupcakes are bad, and I know that I want to try one. Just a friendly reminder: I physically do not have room in my stomach to eat an entire cupcake, but I do have the room to satisfy myself with one teeny tiny bite. The old me would have been the closet eater self that I was, and not had any cupcakes at a family gathering – then when I’m sitting home alone on a Saturday night, I would instead have had a movie night with Ben and Jerry and my dear old friend Humpty Dumpty. I’m not out to sabotage my weight loss by one bite. I just want a measly taste.

2) When people say “You took the easy way out”. I’m sorry, you should rephrase your sentence, because this is in no way easy. There is nothing easy about parting with 85% of your stomach. There is nothing easy about learning to live life a new life, or learning a new way of eating. There is absolutely nothing easy in seeing an entire plate of food in front of you, knowing that you can’t physically eat it. It’s hard, and just because I had this surgery, does not give anyone the right to look me in the eye and say those words to me. The first thing I learned in my info session before weight loss surgery, was that this surgery needs to be used as a tool. The weight will not just fall off instantly and magically fit into a bikini overnight. What we see on TV, and in the magazines, are not what it’s like in reality. I speak not only for myself, but for everyone around me, unless you have lived through this, had any type of weight loss surgery, it does not give you the right to bash someone and accuse them of “taking the easy way out”.

3) When you say “you look so skinny!”, it’s super nice and all that you think that, but last I checked, I weighed 204 pounds, and according to my BMI chart, I am obese, nowhere near the “skinny” category. In fact, there is no such thing as a “skinny” category. There is morbidly obese; which I have happily moved on from, obese, overweight, normal and underweight. At this point in my life, I am obese, seriously, true story, and  I hate to break it to you, but it’s the truth. While I appreciate a flattering comment – at the end of the day, we both know I’m not skinny. I don’t ever want to be skinny. My goal is to be normal….and healthy. Skinny is just an overrated fad and really unflattering on most people.

4) I like snacks. Snacks are an important part of my diet. Considering the fact that I have the stomach the size of a baby banana, I get full quite easily, with a teensy bit amount of food. Just because I’m on a food schedule, doesn’t mean you need to mock or make fun when I get hungry at 11:00 am.

5) As mentioned weeks ago, the same way it’s impolite to ask someone when the last time they shaved their legs was, it’s equally as inappropriate to ask a person how much they weigh. I understand, I have a blog, I am sharing this for the world, everyone is curious. However, it is MY blog, and I share the details of my weight loss. When I want to share my weight, I will, if you are curious and I’m not in the mood to share,  then maybe you can sneak a scale under my feet somehow and find out for yourself, or back off? But as it stands now, just leave it, and when I want to mention something I will. Capeche?

Weight loss for anyone is not easy. Even without this tool it’s hard. Nothing in life is made to come easy. Sometimes people who haven’t had the surgery don’t know all these little fun facts I’ve shared today. Now we know, and now we can all treat each other like normal little individuals.

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