I do not know how to start this post. So let me just get straight to the point.
I have always known what has been holding me back from experiencing life. But I have always been in denial. Or maybe ignorant?
I have always known what lays at the center of my pain. What is so deeply enmeshed in all of my decisions, causing my pain to become infected.
I have always known what has been the biggest trigger for my depression. My anger. My passivity.
And that is, my external body.
I have always been chubby and overweight. Even when I was an infant. I had rolls for days.
I wore baggy clothes to hide my features. I still do.
I live in sweatshirts. But the zippered ones. Not the over the head ones. Those are too claustrophobic. Even though I do not unzip my jacket. Ever.
And I have always hid behind my anger towards my body. I have made it the conscious reason why I do not participate in life.
I am morbidly obese.
I am too heavy for ziplining. Too heavy for swinging off a rope into a river.
I have too many rolls to even look at a swimsuit. On a hanger.
I exceed weight restrictions for riding on a sled pulled by dogs.
I am too wide for movie seats, stadium seats, office chairs, train benches, roller coaster rides, car seats, etc.
Actually, let me clarify. I fit in the aforementioned areas. But it is highly uncomfortable. And my arms encroach on the seats on either side of me. To even be remotely comfortable, I have to extend my arm on the back of the seat next to me.
Which is hopefully not a stranger.
Finding clothes that fit me? Heh. That is a freaking joke. And if I do? It is easily $200 for 2 pairs of pants and 3 shirts. That fit. But definitely not flattering.
I am a scout leader. That should be leading by example. But I cant even find appropriate clothes for my size.
If I cannot even wear the right clothes, how can I possibly be qualified to be a scout leader?
And participating in activities at this size?
I am embarrassed. Full of shame. And regret. I feel less than. Unworthy to participate.
Is this why I cant keep friends? Not sure. But I have convinced myself that my weight is the reason I dont deserve friends.
I end up feeling like a second class citizen. Why? Because I dont have the proper clothes. Or proper stereotypically accepted physique.
I feel that all eyes in the vicinity are pointing at me. Burning judgment into my soul.
No matter what people say to me. No matter how many times my husband tells me I am beautiful.
I’m in pain. Being this heavy, is a burden. It is affecting not just my quality of life. But that of my kids.
Which makes me more angry at myself.
And then the vicious cycle of embarrassment and shame and passivity continue to a point where I have zero self confidence.
I have zero self confidence when it comes to my abilities. My strengths. My value.
I have zero self confidence when it comes to having friends.
I have zero self confidence when it comes to being worthy of this space I occupy.
This cycle is vicious. And it is so hard to break out.
Especially when you grew up with an overabundance of food. Where grandma made a 5 course meal every night and told us it was our fault if we left hungry.
Or made me cinnamon toast drenched with butter and a bowl full of applesauce when I was home sick. Mmmmmm.
Or when your other grandma made chocolate covered pancakes….mmmm
When I was younger, I had a messed up childhood (different story, different day). Food was my comfort. My escape. My control.
Good grades? Dinner out. Bad grades? Dinner out. Special occasion? Holiday? Birthday? Dinner out. Breakfast? Mcdonalds drive thru.
Everything revolved around food.
At my dad’s house, he didnt cook much. I ate alot of chili from a can, and mixed in bbq sauce.
I never learned healthy eating habits. My mom rarely cooked. We joke that she can burn water.
But my grandma? Man, that lady could cook.
But I took her for granted. I never learned from her.
I had to teach myself how to cook in my early 20’s. I am a much better cook now.
But I regress.
Food. My body. What connection am I trying to make?
I have always been overweight. I got my first Gym membership from 24hr fitness when I was like 13 or 14.
I have tried weight watchers, medifast, hcg, paleo, whole30, 2b mindset, hypnotherapy.
I have tried running, personal training, roller derby, 2hrs a day at the gym, swimming.
I have tried alot. I have learned alot. And I have failed.
Well, I got great results from medifast. And 2 months into it I got pregnant so I had to stop that because it was unhealthy for my unborn fetus.
Anyways, moving on.
For the past 3.5yrs, I have completely neglected my body.
I eat crap. Whenever I want it. Because I am an adult and I can!
I eat ice cream, and drink pop, and consume all the pizza.
All. The. Pizza.
I become bloated. And my stomach cramps. And I just want to sleep. But food. Mmmmm. Especially carbs.
I sit on the couch. I watch TV. I read a book. Surf the internet. I let the dogs out and sit on the porch.
I get winded just doing laundry.
I am down 1 ovary and fallopian tube.
I evicted my gallbladder.
I almost died on the operating table and now have to use a CPAP at night or risk brain damage.
But I only stop breathing when I am laying on my back.
Because all of this extra weight literally presses down on my lungs.
My obesity is preventing me from breathing. In the middle of the night.
When I am older, like 100, I want to pass in my sleep. It sounds so peaceful.
But not when I am 31. Not when I have young children who depend on me. Who I love. With all of my heart.
Everytime I start some sort of new workout or diet, I get so amped up. I am all in. I am motivated. And I make all the preparations.
And I hit the asphalt running….figuratively speaking because I am not a runner.
I usually end up getting shin splints.
And oddly enough, believe it or not, coincidentally, I get sick shortly after getting healthy. Or I somehow get injured. Or I have to invest energy in to something else that I didnt expect to.
And then I quit.
And I am back at sea level. Trying my best to dig my toes in to the loose sand as the waves come in at high tide. A chain with one end connected to my waist, and the other to an anchor, begging to be swept out to sea.
And at some point along the coastline, I have told myself. No, I have convinced myself, that I will only be happy with who I am, when I am 150lbs.
I have convinced myself, that I will be unworthy until I hit that magic number. That it doesnt matter what I do or accomplish, I will not be happy, until the scale says 150.
I am not allowed to be happy. Until those 3 digits finally appear.
The mind is a powerful drug. Because I have been tied to this anchor for a long time.
At least 15yrs. Long. Time.
And because of this anchor, I have not been able to find the motivation, the courage, the determination, the inner drive, whatever you want to call it….to even start.
Every time I gain a little momentum, digging my toes in the sand, crouching down in a sprinters lunge, my finger tips on the start line, my arm ready to fling me forward….
….the anchor is there to remind me I wont make it far.
….that it is mightier than I. So why even exert the energy?
When I fail, I add it to my pile of never ending failures. I have a really great knack at starting something, and not following thru.
It makes me sick to think about how my things I have never finished. That I have just given up on.
On a new podcast I discovered today, the guest said it doesnt have to be a big step, just take a little step, and that will put you in the right direction.
So today, I am taking a little step. Because I have a large leap that I really want to accomplish.
Today, I am breaking a link off the chain connected to my anchor that is holding me back. I am removing another brick from my wall.
My body, is large. My body, has rolls for days. My body, is round, out of shape, angry.
But my body has accomplished alot.
I went to surf camp when I was in high school. I used to snowboard. I marched in parades with the marching band.
I have graduated high school, I have bachelor’s in Psychology with a minor in Business. I have an MBA.
I gave birth and went back to school 2 weeks later to finish the term. I even got straight A’s that term.
I was in labor for 4 days, had a baby, and finished my finance final for an MBA class….all in the same week.
I walked 30,000 steps in 1 day at Disneyland. I didnt die. Until I sprained my ankle the next day.
I have 2 beautifully fierce girls.
I take wow inspiring photos.
I have an Instagram for my pups and I have 60 followers. At least half are complete strangers.
I have read 12 books in 12 weeks.
My body has done amazing things. My brain has amazing ideas.
I am proud of my body.
And I am ready to let go of this convoluted idea that I need to be 150lbs or less in order to be happy.
I am ready to break free from this anchor.
I am ready to reach the summit.
And this body will get me there.