Trying to Start over and Dissappointment

 The past three years have been such a roller coaster. Grief, loss, a world-wide pandemic, job change...and yes, weight gain.

I'm currently weighing in at 261. Well, ranging between 259-261 depending on the day. I've pretty much gained back all that I lost in 2018-2019. It started after my mom died and it stalled for a little while and then picked back up. I've finally stopped gaining, for the most part. Even after my dad died in April and I went a little nuts eating out a lot and drinking a lot of Cokes and going to the new coffee top in town and getting sugary lattes. I've finally gotten serious about reigning myself in and eating better and really trying to reverse the damage I've done to myself.

So far I'm three weeks in of no sugary lattes, no Cokes, cooking every meal...I've eating a fast food breakfast on Saturdays but that's the extent of my getting takeout. I even turned down going out to eat with friends. I've made my own coffee, cut back on my evening coffees, cut back on my portions and amount of carbs--not keto or even low carb, just "smart" carbs like I did in the past.

Three weeks and I have not seen a single ounce of progress. I don't feel any better. My clothes still fit the same. The scale has not budged. I have saved a little money but no physical progress. And it's frustrating. I want to go to Chick-fil-A so badly. I want to go eat fried catfish at the cafeteria Friday. I want to stop and get a coffee. I want to eat all the chocolate. But I'm trying to hard to re-learn healthy eating habits and get figure out how to get back on the same track I was on in 2018-2019. I look back at old pics of me from that time period and want to cry. I hate that I let myself get back to here.

And when I really think about my eating habits over the past three years, I don't think I've gone TOO far off the rails. I feel like, even with the more frequent take out, my portions when I go out are still sensible. My portions at home don't feel all that large. Maybe a little more sugar than is wise, but not an excessive amount. At least it doesn't seem that way. I eat a lot of protein. My snacks have been mostly things like beef jerkey or popcorn. Occasionally chips.

*sigh*

I'm just frustrated and disappointed. I know my hormones are a lot different than they were five years ago. My thyroid is not at optimal function but it's within range. I'm not able to achieve the same physical activity that I once did--my knee and foot are completely wrecked. So I'm trying to be patient with myself as I relearn healthy eating habits and focus more on the health aspect like I did five years ago. I'm trying to figure out modified ways of physical activity that is gentle on my knee and foot. I'm trying to focus on fining healthier outlets for my grief that don't include eating. But patience has never been my forte. Not when it comes to my weight and health, anyway. 

There's also the idea out there that when dealing with grief, one shouldn't be too hard on myself. But I also know myself enough to know that I give myself an ounce of grace, I'll take a mile. 

Anyway, this is me checking in. Adding this blog into my box of tools to hopefully motivate me and help me with this new journey.

(Almost) Back to the Beginning

Twenty. That's how many pounds away I am from being my pre-weightloss weight. Greif, stress, and hypothyroidism have hijacked my health and most days I feel helpless to stop it. 

It started in late 2020 when my mom was so sick with Cancer that she couldn't get around by herself. I was working from home and helping my dad take care of her when I could. Long trips to doctors visits and stops on the way home for fast food. Comforting myself with a Starbucks when I could. Making (and eating) all the Christmas treats. I gained 15lbs.

Then my mom died in March 2021 and since then I have comforted myself up another 15lbs. Fast food on the weekends. Sugary coffees. Daily chocolate. For a while I was on a daily honeybun kick but I've managed to let that go. 

For the past two weeks the scale has sat at 260. At my yearly wellness visit with my doctor back in March she said I was a couple points away from being pre-diabetic again. I had thought that that would kickstart me the way the pre-diabetic diagnosis in 2018 did but it has not. I can't seem to get my mind focused back on healthy eating and regular movement. And all the while I cry when I look in a mirror or see photos of myself from 2019 when I felt amazing. 

I don't know where to start this time. I do okay for a day and then have a string of "fuck it" days wherein I eat all the things. I've asked myself so many times over the past year "where am I going wrong?" and the answer is, I lack consistency. It's not about motivation this time. It's about consistency. Consistently choosing my health instead of eating my emotions.

Now that I know the why, I need to figure out the how. How do I make myself consistently choose my health? How do I make myself consistently let go of the notion that I "deserve" a treat or that somehow a "treat" is going to fix my broken heart. 

Several of my colleagues are doing these strict diet plans. One of them "Optavia", I think, uses shakes and severe dietary restrictions to help lose weight and at lease one colleague has lost close to 100lbs. But I can't see myself being that strict. Another colleague is doing a diabetic based version of Keto (it has a fancy name and requires a membership but it's basically the keto diet.) and she's lost 11lbs in the past month. I can't imagine myself giving up all sugar/carbs.

Ultimately, those types of diets aren't sustainable, though. Apparently, eating by diabetic guidelines isn't sustainable, either, since I didn't sustain it after 2020. 

I don't know what the point of this post is. Maybe it's just to serve as documentation of my "journey" in the battle of health and weight loss.  I'm not making excuses. I'm thoroughly disgusted with myself though I've been told to be gentle on myself in this season of my life. But at some point I have to take responsibility and take back control over my health. I have to let go of the subconscious notion that food will somehow heal what's broken in me. It won't. I can never get my pre-2020 life back. That version of myself is gone forever. But I can reclaim my 2019 health. I WILL reclaim that. I just need to figure out how.

And so it goes...

 I read a quote recently by Jennifer Weiner that said something along the lines of "Our bodies got us through the worst year of our collective lives and we should celebrate it instead of punishing it." You know, because we all packed on some weight during the pandemic. I'm finding it difficult to love this body, though.

Twenty pounds. That's how much I gained from late March till now. The last time I stepped on the scale (last week) I weighed in at a hefty 246. 

I did fairly well the first six or seven months of the pandemic. I fluctuated 5-10 pounds for MONTHS. Considering that I was working from home while also helping my parents while my mom battled cancer, I thought a 5-10lb fluctuation wasn't all that bad. Then Christmas came. And even though I couldn't be with my sisters, nieces and nephew, and my parents couldn't really eat any of it, I still made the usual Christmas treats and candy. And I ate most all of it by myself. I did give some of it away but, yeah. I gained a solid 5lbs on top of the 10 I'd been carrying at the time and they ALL stayed. 

And then my mom died in March, a week and a half before my birthday, and I quickly gained another 5lbs that have stayed. Since then, I've fluctuated another 4lbs or so upward which has really messed with my head and my body. It's not even that I'm feeling bad about the way that I look or the fact that I've had to pull my "midway point" wardrobe back out in order to have clothes to wear to work (now that I'm back in office)...I FEEL awful. I feel heavy and cumbersome and gross. And yes, I do hate the way the extra weight looks on me.

I halfway thought that when I returned to working in the office at least SOME of the extra weight would melt off simply because I'm getting more activity by merely walking around the ginormous library. But that hasn't happened. Mostly because I've been continuing to stress eat potato chips with dip, candy, and vending machine snacks--not to mention vending maching Cokes. I've also been eating out quite a bit more than I had been. Mid-week trips to Chick-fil-A and Panda Express.  Stopping for breakfast or lattes on my way to work. Finding some self-discipline has been difficult, to say the least. I have zero real motivation even as bad as I hate the way I feel in this body. 

I'm a perfectionist at being "easy" on myself. I give myself a pass far too often. Punishment with restriction has never been a real issue. Binging and self-loathing, on the other hand, those come all too easy. It's also hard to manage the depression and anxiety without falling back on food and sugary drinks. 

I'm also having back and knee problems which makes some movement slow and/or painful which is frustrating. I've managed to modify a few exercise movements that I had hoped would help with toning leg and butt muscles but I am inconsistent. I give in to the temptation to sit on my butt when I get home or hit the snooze in the morning instead of getting up early enough to do anything.

I wish this was me about to break out into a fight song about how I'm ready now to kick this extra weight's butt. But it's not. Truth be told, I'm sitting here right now battling the urge to go in search of a treat somewhere and am fairly certain that I will. 

Weekly Check-in

Imma try for my sake, to do a weekly check-in on my habits/health/lifestyle. Notice I didn't say "diet" because I'm not on a diet.

This week my biggest sin was a trip to Panda Express for lunch that I hadn't planned on. I always buy enough food to brown bag my lunch. The past several weeks I've been doing deli meat sandwiches with multigrain bread and avocado instead of mayo. I don't bring chips or anything like that. I might bring apple slices but that's it. But Monday was a hard day on a personal level (WBF's daughter went into the hospital Sunday morning and I was worried) so when another friend invited me to go to the student union for Panda, I went. I got a bowl, though, not a plate. But I did clean the bowl. And I drank a Coke instead of taking my water bottle with me.

Wednesday I forgot my bread so I only  had  deli ham and half an avocado to eat for lunch. By 2pm I was starving and a little light-headed so I did the responsible thing and went to the vending machine. I got Harvest Cheddar Sun chips and a bag of M&M's. I should have just gotten the Sun chips. They are  baked and multigrain. But, again. Stress had me reaching for chocolate.

Yesterday I got of work early and did my grocery shopping. Instead of going somewhere for fast food on the way home, I bought one of the Wal-Mart pizza's in the deli section and took it home to bake. It was the meat lovers and I hate three slices around 2pm. Then around 7pm ate one more slice. And chips. And chocolate. (Stress: We were waiting to hear about biopsy results for WBF's daughter.)

But the good things I did this week are, I ate healthy salads (as in, not loaded down with cheese and creamy dressings) two nights, chicken fajitas one night, and bacon wrapped asparagus one night. I drank at least 96 ounces of water a day. I haven't had a latte all week. Haven't BOUGHT coffee all week. I've been using the Keurig at work instead of going to Starbucks. And I haven't even really craved a latte in a while. Maybe I got them out of my system during the holidays.

I worked out with my 3lb dumbbells four days this week. I went for at least one walk--I meant to go every afternoon but I've been both busy and distracted. I've been tracking my steps this week, though, and I got up to 7000 one day, which while not the 10000 I did consistently in 2018, it's better than the 3000 I'd been doing consistently.

Today (Saturday) I do plan on grabbing something for lunch on the way home. I get off work at 2pm and I haven't eaten since around 6:30 this morning. I'm going to need something to eat sooner than it will take for me to drive 45 minute home and wait for something to cook. But I'm going to try and resist the temptation of getting something unhealthy. And resist the temptation to get a Coke.

Fingers crossed next week I have fewer bumps, less stress eating (we're hopeful about the biopsy results) and more activity. I've got lots of stuff to do at work that should keep me up and moving, so here's to getting more steps in!

Face Off

I know I've been plateaued for a while now and it is frustrating to me that I haven't lost anymore weight. But I try to stay focused on the fact that at least I've been able to maintain! And sometimes, I really get hit in the face with reminders of where I've been and sometimes that's exactly what I need to keep from letting this plateau get me down.

This week, I was looking at my facebook memory for New Year's Day 2015 and I almost spit my drink out. I hardly recognized that girl in the photo! Who even was she?

January 1, 2015

To be entirely honest, 2014-2017 were some really tough years. I was deeply depressed, stuck with a supervisor who hated me and constantly disrespected me. I was miserable. I almost ate myself to death, if we're being entirely honest here. And I knew back then that my weight was out of control but the only way I knew (back then) to deal with my emotions and misery was to bake and eat. I learned some serious baking skills during that period but I also almost killed myself with food.

Don't let that sassy smirk/eyebrow fool you. I was a hot mess of misery. The smirk was, if I recall, in response to a judgy article my cousin's husband had written about the culture and psychology of selfies. He'd written about how selfies were the personification of narcissism and self involvement, etc. Basically calling out selfie takers and judging them. I have been an avid selfie taker since before there was even a word for it. Not because I am/was obsessed with my own face but moreso because I have always felt so UNSEEN.

I've remarked on my other blog how invisible I've felt off and on throughout my life. Which is actually fairly hilarious. How can someone who has always taken up so much physical space be invisible? And yet, that is how I have felt for most of my life. And so, selfies. *shrug*

Also, as someone who rarely feels beautiful, sometimes getting a good selfie with the right angle/lighting makes me feel better about myself. Or it is a good documentation of days/times when I've felt good about myself. It is the exact opposite of me being in love with my own face/reflection. And I know many other women in my social group who view selfies the same way. But my cousin's husband is a former college football star who couldn't be invisible if he tried (or at least that's how it appears from the outside looking in) and likely will never understand what it's like to want to be seen. Not necessarily admired, but just seen.

Anyway, wow! That spiraled. Back to my original point/thought...

That baby/puffy faced girl in 2015 who hid her depression in sassy selfies and the perfect chocolate chip cookie recipe would be SHOCKED at the less puffy faced woman in 2020 who copes with her depression now, not with food, but with the Bible and a good cry session. And okay, occasionally with chocolate. (Let's keep it real!)

January 1, 2020

I still struggle to find my sense of self-worth and appreciate my body for the gift that it is, but I recognize the power of grace, now. The struggle, while real, is also necessary. If I hadn't ever been the miserable girl of 2015, I wouldn't appreciate the joy I've found in following this new path God has put me on. And I certainly wouldn't appreciate that new face.

(The 2020 selfie, btw, was a documentation of feeling good about myself that day. I'd tried a new eyeshadow technique and felt pretty confident. Documentation!)

Eep!

It's been over two months since I updated. My bad!

The honest truth is, there's nothing to report. I haven't gained, I haven't lost. I'm just sitting here fluctuating the same five pounds from week to week, depending on my cycle. My clothes are all fitting just fine, other than the pair of cheap jeggings that has a split in the thigh seam. Ugh.

I have been splurging a little bit more often, which I know isn't good, but since deprivation wasn't making me lose anything, I decided to relax a little. Not, you know, go wild, or anything. But enjoy the winter Starbucks flavors when I'm out with friends. Since that doesn't happen very often, I'm safe from over indulging but you know, I don't feel as restrictive or guilty when I do indulge. And since I've given myself permission, I don't really crave it all that much. AND, I can say no more easily to other things, like fast food cravings since it's not a hard no or a "shouldn't eat". I can talk myself out of it and not be grumpy about it. Giving myself permission to indulge makes me really examine if it's something that I really want. And if I decide it is, I can eat it without guilt. But if I decide I'm not just DYING to have it, I can walk away from it (or go home without it) and not feel deprived or anxious or upset.

The human brain is a tricky weirdo, for sure.

Anyway, with Thanksgiving and Christmas coming up, I know there's going to be a lot more opportunity to indulge than usual. But no stress. Just relax, eat the things I love and try to practice moderation--but no guilt if I go back for a second helping of Granny's delicious dressing. ;-)

Maybe after the new year I will have some positive news. I am slowly but surely getting back into counting my steps, something I had put on hold during the blisteringly hot summer months. I can walk way easier in the cold than I can in the hot. The hardest part is reminding myself to do it and making it into a habit again.

The Good, the Bad, the Buy One Get One

***Originally written two weeks ago. I forgot to hit publish. But it's still true.

Y'all, I pulled of an amazing feat last week...I went seven whole days without eating out. I even turned down two invitations to go out for lunch! I saved myself $20 and a ton of calories.

Then Sunday, I had some errands to run after church so I was STARVING and on a whim I went through the Arby's drive-thru and got a beef gyro, curly fries and a drink. It was delicious. And that's where the spiral started.

Yesterday Zaxby's was running a buy one get one special on their Southern TLC meal so WBF and I went and it was delicious and only $3.50 each so...whatever. Then last night my mom texted wanting to grab lunch today and since I don't get to see her all that often anymore, I couldn't say no. I think we're going to Wendy's for some 4 for 4 cause we're all broke.

So, you know. You win some, you lose some. It's called balance, right?

Also, I baked chocolate chip cookies last night and ate four. Also ate half of one this morning while I cooked breakfast (avocado toast with an egg on top.) So, you know. Life.

In other news, this morning I had a bit of an epiphany.

I've been struggling with my body image these days. You may or may not have picked up on that in recent posts, but y'all...it's real. As excited as I was when I first started losing weight, the shine has worn off and I just feel fat again. Like, I've been at this current weight long enough that emotionally, I'm back to square one. Picking apart photos of myself, staring at the mirror not in wonder, but in disgust. My thighs are still huge. My gut still pokes out in places. My arms are...ugh.

But I pulled on my jeggings this morning and a tunic-ish top and almost changed because my thighs. They're the same thighs I had when I first bought these size 16 jeggings. The same thighs that I was so excited to showcase when I first bought them. The only thing that's changed is my mind-set.

I didn't let myself change them and, instead, took Libby outside one last time before I left for work. While I was out there waiting for her to poop, I stared down at my thighs and took a lot of deep breaths with my cleansing thoughts.

My body, while not perfect, is the strongest it's ever been. My body is healthier than it's ever been. My legs and thighs carry me through my life every day. My clothes are the smallest size I've worn since junior high which means I am the same size I was when I was 14. My body, while still lumpy, is in the best shape it's ever been. My body REVERSED itself from becoming diabetic. My body isn't perfect but it is good. It is enough. And I am committed to loving the body I am in RIGHT NOW. Because this whole journey is about the health of my body, not the appearance. My stupid brain needs to catch up with that.

It would help, of course, if everyone else didn't make this such an "appearance" thing. But I'm the one who let that matter. Even now, I must confess that half my mental struggle is worrying that people think I'm a failure now since I haven't continued to lose weight. I fear they're waiting on me to gain it all back. I know it's my own paranoia (mostly) but every photo I see, while I'm picking apart my appearance, half of what I'm thinking is that other people looking at that will think I've failed. But that shouldn't matter. I'm not working on my health for anyone but me.

Left: 2015, 275lbs, size 4x (women's plus) top, size 26 pants. Right: 2019, 216lbs, size 2x (ladies) top, size 18 pants

But you see what I mean, right? Same shape. It's easy for me to get in my head about it. 

***Originally written two weeks ago. I forgot to hit publish. But it's still true.