In the span of 8-12 months (rough estimate), I
gained 75 lbs. (also rough estimation). I'm not ashamed to admit this. I'm past
shame. I have lived in shame for far too long when it comes to my obesity and
body issues. Too long I have wondered what was wrong with me for not being able
to lose weight and keep it off. Why did I have to be fat? Why couldn’t I just
have a “normal” body? Why couldn't I just buckle down and eat healthy? Why was
it so hard to get to the gym and work out for 2 hours to shed some fat? I have
been trying to answer these questions for such a long time.
I started out 2015 on a mission to find body
positivity. I had been inspired by blog after blog talking about it. I had read
countless posts, articles, etc from my favorite Feminist sites explaining to me
that Body Positivity was the way to go; that regulating fat and the way people
think about fat was the thing to do. I failed. It didn't help that as the
months went on in this year 2015 I was slowly ascending into madness as I
noticed small things like my feet and legs in general aching at wake up time,
or the fact that my shoe laces were somehow shrinking, and that bending over
made it difficult to breathe. So as 2015 happened I grew in size and shame. I
retreated into myself by taking less pictures, and worrying more about what the
outside world saw when they saw me. What I saw was a sad overweight girl that
was never going to find happiness within herself.
What ended up happening was that other things began happening as well.
My skin began developing acne in places that had been clean before. I noticed
pimples and zits on my face during my menstrual cycle, then just randomly
popping up. I felt and saw sebaceous cysts popping up on my arms, on my legs,
more often than I had experienced in the past. Bumps with no opening, but
painful as if they were full of poison on the inside, yet when I squeezed and
squeezed nothing would come out and the bumps would remain. My menstrual cycles
became painful beyond anything before and heavier than a waterfall; they also
became random starting later and later each month. I was also very afraid that
in the gain I had developed diabetes. My mom is a diabetic, her parents were
diabetic, so here I thought “Fuck. I must be a diabetic now.” I figured a visit
to the doctor was in order. Thankfully a change in employment had also
came with medical insurance so I made an appointment and took myself to the
doctor. I planned on recounting my shameful occurrences with hopes of finding
an underlying cause for the extreme weight gain. So the doctor listens to my
retelling of events. She tells me (and I was so thankful for this) “What can I
do for you? How can I help you lose the weight you have gained?” Nothing felt
better than this person asking me how SHE could HELP ME. I was so afraid she
would make me feel guilty for the weight gain. I was so afraid she would make
me feel worse than I had already made myself feel for being even more
overweight. Instead she was willing to try and find reasons why and solutions.
I don’t know if I’ve lost any weight so far. I refused to see what I
weighed on that doctor’s visit. I’ve been too obsessed with my weight in the
past. I don’t think it’s heaelthy to weigh every day. And given the last time I
did weigh (I broke down horribly) I didn’t want to put myself through that
again. Tests were run and as far as I know there is nothing wrong with me. I am
I guess one could say, healthy. Overweight? Oh yes. Diabetic? I am taking the
optimistic route and guessing if the Doctor didn’t call me to say I am that I
am in fact, NOT diabetic. There are still menstrual issues, which I plan on
getting to the bottom of as soon as possible.
2016 started differently than 2015. I didn’t make resolutions. I didn’t
plan to do the newest diet to see how much I could lose in 2 weeks. I didn’t
get a gym membership. I didn’t get new workout shoes and clothes. I didn’t
promise to find body positivity. I decided to stress over something so trivial
as my weight. It’s a working process let me add. Of course I still stress. When
my jeans get that tear in the thigh from my thighs hanging out so much I
silently start to wonder “what can I do to fix this tomorrow?” And of course so
far there have only been 16 days in the year 2016. Tomorrow I could go find
some new weight loss pill with “all natural ingredients!” and then 2 weeks from
that I could decide to say “fuck it! Pleasantly plump I’ll be!” I’ve said this
before, I’m a fickle human. I don’t commit well.
However, I HAVE decided to commit to one thing. I have decided to commit
to living carelessly. And to be able to do that I have to stop thinking ahead,
I have to stop thinking about how I can be skinny. I have to stop thinking
about where to go to find a boyfriend (not that I’m actively searching). I have
to wake up in the morning, do my morning routine, and put sustenance into my
body throughout the day (even if sometimes this is a “unhealthy” snack or even
meal *GASP*. Play with my students. Come home and nap (SLEEP IS BAE). Go
to school. Get my associates degree finally. Travel as much as I can afford on
the salary of a head start teacher. Visit my book friends. Meet more authors.
Read more books. Blog. Don’t blog (fickle and forever doing something). Review
books (and subsequently enter said reviews into book blog). Don’t review books
(some get way too much hype already and honestly, fickle is my middle name
haha). Argue with people when I have a different opinion. Find a common ground
when arguing gets heated (the pacifist in me sometimes takes over). Oh there
are countless things I am going to do.
