Friday, January 25, 2013

I Didn't Die!

Sixteen days ago, I began this journey to get healthy. Getting healthy meant moving my body...well, moving it more than just to the refrigerator. So, starting slowly, I began doing a little bit at a time. I knew if i tried to do too much at once, I would get discouraged. I decided I was going to walk around my block. I had to stop four times before I made it back home. 

In the past, my twisted ocd mind would tell me that if I couldn't do 30 minutes straight of walking or aerobics then I wasn't doing anything. This go round, however, I made up my mind that even if I was only moving for 5 minutes at a time, 5 minutes was better than I was doing before. 

Then, several days ago, my dearest friend and motivator, Amy, talked me into walking with her. I'm just going to be completely honest, y'all. I cussed her the entire time. I seriously thought she was trying to kill me. The sad part is that we didn't even walk that far or long, but I really thought I was going to die. But I didn't quit...and the next day we did it again...and I didn't die. In fact, I kinda enjoyed it...kinda. When I got home that night, I walked again...and I didn't die. Not only did I not die, I made the whole block this time without stopping at all!!! 

The next day, we walked to the bank...once again, not far, but I seriously considered sucking on their helium tank to get a boost of air, because I was so out of breath. I even jogged up a hill! Holy cow, y'all! Even a fat girl can run!

Ok...so now I'm thinking this whole walking thing isn't so bad after all. I even walked to my son's school yesterday to pick him up instead of driving...and I didn't die. I thought my kid would think I had lost my mind when he came out of school and saw that I was not in our jeep. But he was so excited to walk with me...and he didn't die either! We might have even climbed some walls and jumped a creek. 

We even had a race to see who could make it to my office door first. Yep...that's right...I ran...and I didn't die. I wish I could have frozen in time the complete joy that I felt from running for the first time with my kid. Out of breath, red faced, and pouring sweat, I felt pure joy...not from eating...but from moving. So what did I do? I walked some more and some more and walked again when I got home. I walked to the gas station. I walked to the eye clinic. I walked to the grocery store. It's hard! But this morning when I woke up, I felt alive. I could feel muscles pulling and stretching and blood flowing. 

I've lost 22 pounds so far. I'm taking pictures and can't believe the difference in my face and neck in only 16 days. My skin feels hydrated and looks healthy rather than blotchy and dry. 

I am keeping a list of the things I want to do after losing weight...kinda a fat girl's bucket list, if you will. I have to see this list to keep me motivated. 

The list of things I want to do after losing weight:
  1. I want to cross my legs like a lady.
  2. I want to go to the movies and fit in the seat comfortably.
  3. I want to go swimming…in a bathing suit…not shorts and shirt.
  4. I want to repel down the side of a cliff.
  5. I want to swim at the beach…and not just sit in the sand fully clothed.
  6. I want to not worry that I won’t fit in a chair when I go somewhere.
  7. I want to take Connor to Disney World and be in shape enough to walk and walk and walk.
  8. I want to be to small enough to be able to fit on the rides at Disney World or any other amusement park.
  9. I want to be able to run.
  10. I want to fit in the bathtub and take a long hot bath.
  11. I want to run in a 5k.
  12. I want to be able to comfortably hold Connor in my lap.
  13. I want to walk into a department store and buy clothes for myself that fit.
  14. I want to wear blue jeans.
  15. I want to sit in the beautician’s chair without fear of breaking it or turning it over.
  16. I want to rock in a rocking chair with arms.
  17. I want to go to the waterpark with Connor and actually slide down the slides rather than sit in the shade while Connor plays by himself.
  18. I want to fly on an airplane and actually fit in one seat.
  19. I want to get up from sitting without having to rock back and forth several times to get enough momentum to get my fat butt out of the chair.
  20. I want to go to people’s homes and not fear I am going to break their chair when I sit down.
  21. I want to fit in the barstools at my grandmother’s breakfast bar.
  22. I want to slide down the slide at my grandmother’s swimming pool.
  23. I want to jump off of the diving board and not fear it is going to break.
  24. I want to have a man send me flowers.
  25. I want to date.
  26. I want to dance.
  27. I want to go roller skating.
  28. I want to swing at the park.
  29. I want to sit in my jeep without my stomach touching the steering wheel.
  30. I want to ride in other people’s cars and not fear the sit belt won’t fit.
  31. Complete the 1 mile fun run in April 2013 without needing medical attention or oxygen. ;)
  32. I want to go horseback riding.
  33. I want to take Connor white water rafting on the Ocoee River.
  34. I want to wear a dress…not a moo moo, but a dress and pretty heels.
  35. I want to go 4-wheeler riding.
  36. I want to go zip lining.
I know this is only the beginning of a long journey. There are sure to be times when I get discouraged, but I have short term goals, and I know I can do it. My first goal was to lose 20 pounds. I did it! Now, I'm working on losing 40 by 40. I'll turn 40 on February 22nd, and I am working hard to lose 40 by then. I have committed to do a 1 mile fun run/walk on April 21st. I'm just going to keep walking and walking and walking and little by little, I'll get to where I'm going.


Thursday, January 17, 2013

The Woman in the Wheelchair

Last Monday, January 7th, I had to take Connor to the doctor. He slipped on my freshly mopped wood floors Sunday night chasing my dogs and pulled his groin muscle. On Monday morning, he couldn't walk.

While sitting in the waiting room at the doctor's office, I noticed a lady in a wheelchair. She was what would be described as morbidly obese. She turned at one point and looked at me. Her face was absolutely stunning. Without saying a word, we both smiled at one another. In that instant, I had a revelation. In just a matter of time, I would be her...I would be unable to walk...unable to breathe...unable to live freely the way I want to. I needed to see her that day. It was as though God revealed my future through her. I wish now I would have hugged her and told her that she was beautiful. We were both smiling on the outside, but dying on the inside.

Fat is hell. Plain and simple...it is hell. Regardless, of how you got that way, there is not a day that goes by that you don't wish your body was different. There is not a day that goes that you don't hate what you've done to yourself, but you still keep doing it. Why? Because food is good...really good! And eating it...lots of it...fills a part of you that is missing something. The satisfaction of the food, though, is only temporary. The guilt from having consumed so much, however, lasts far longer than the temporary goodness offered by mass quantities of unhealthy foods.

Ask any overweight person how to lose weight. They know how to do it. Most overweight people can tell you easily how to lose weight. The knowledge of knowing what to do comes easy. It's the decision to actually do what it takes...sacrifice...move your body...eat right...learn to love who you are on the inside...that makes the knowledge you hold turn into success on the scale.

So, here I am...10 days in...Here's what I'm doing. The first thing I did was download an app on my phone called "My Fitness Pal". A friend told me about it, and I LOVE it!!!! It keeps up with how many calories, fat grams, sodium, and carbs I need everyday. So for every morsel or liquid I consume, I put it in my phone. This alone, has made a HUGE difference for me. I am planning my day's food a day ahead and packing a bag to take with me to work. I am eating a large breakfast, a medium lunch, and a small dinner, and 3 snacks throughout the day. I am really enjoying the different foods and have really not craved or felt like I am missing out on anything.

Next, I started recording a show called "Christian Fitness". It ties in devotions along with a workout that is done to contemporary Christian music. I am not able to fully keep up with the instructor, but I am getting better everyday. When I have to take a break, I just keep moving something...an arm, a leg...just something. This is my least favorite part! I hate exercise! For real...I don't like it. But I won't quit! Instead of going home after work everyday, and sitting in my chair motionless in front of the tv, I plan out things I can do at home and make myself keep moving. Having a very active 9 year old boy helps immensely. He and I have been dancing and wrestling and just acting plain crazy...but I am moving and that's all that matters. While attempting to do the downward dog yoga position during the cool down part of the show, Connor yelled, "Mama, Who do you want me to call?" Perplexed, out of breath, and ready to pass out, I said, "What are you talking about?" His reply, "You're going to suffocate from your boobs covering your face and fall out. Who do you want me to call to get you off of the floor?" I love my kid! At least he's learning now to get healthy.

I have watched every weight loss transformation story on you tube there is out there. I needed the motivation and the great ideas. Technology is a wonderful tool for losing weight!

Planning for everything has been the key. I plan my meals and my activities. I can't let there be a single moment right now where I am not prepared. It is in those moments of indecisiveness that lead me to eat the wrong foods and way too much of it.

For example, last Saturday Connor wanted a bacon cheeseburger and tater tots from Sonic. I knew watching him eat and smelling that food would send me into orbit. So, I ordered a bag of apple slices and diet limeade for myself. Amazingly, I was content. However, when he was done eating, he still had a quarter of his burger left and 6 tater tots. I knew ahead he would have left overs because he always does. Ten days ago, I would have eaten them, because I always ate his left overs whether I was hungry or not. But this time, I opened up the sunroof and told him to throw the leftover food out for the raccoons to eat...not the paper...just the food. Do you know what? I didn't even turn the car around to go back and get it. Ha Ha! I started laughing as he tossed the food out at how ludicrous it must have seemed, but I knew if that food stayed in my jeep, I would have eaten it.

I know my weaknesses. I know not to get too hungry. I know not to expose myself right now to places or people who are triggers for food. This all sounds so crazy seeing it in print, but the truth is, living as a fat girl is crazy! Food addicts will go to great lengths to get what they want and hide it. When, really, nothing is hidden. You can't hide fat. It is what it is...rolls of it hanging off of your body.

Perhaps the best part of the last 10 days is seeing the progress. I can see the veins in my feet and hands again. The puffiness in my cheeks is gone. In 10 short days, I have lost weight. But even better than losing the weight, is the feeling of finally doing what I know I can do! I am taking care of my body...physically, mentally, and spiritually. Remarkably, I have seen a transformation in my kid. He is so proud of me! He has been so encouraging and is loving who I am striving to be. He deserves a healthy mama...and with God's help and sheer determination...he will get one!



Thursday, January 10, 2013

Oh Yes I Did!


I survived. No…really I did. With shaking fingers and a racing heart, I pressed the post button on Tuesday exposing my fat for what it was…a suffocating, life sucking monster that I had allowed to take every ounce of desire to really live away.

And you know what…as shameful as exposing weaknesses and failures is; I have never felt more relieved. I slept Tuesday night for the first time in many, many years. I mean really slept. It was as though 10 million loads had been lifted from my shoulders.

But what’s even more amazing than a great night’s rest and relief from finally putting it all out there was the response I got from so many.

You see, what I came to realize Tuesday was this journey of life we are all on is not really about us as individuals. This journey is about doing for and creating joy and loving and listening to others.  This journey is about using whatever you have both externally and internally to lift up those around us.

We all have a story. Did you know that? We really do. We have hurts and joys and laughter and tears and secrets. We have hidden skeletons far in the recesses of our minds and brilliant tales of successes, too.

I was so embarrassed and ashamed to expose what I so desperately have tried to hide, but I did it…not for anyone else, but for me. And surprisingly, through my shame, God blessed me by showing me that there are so many more just like me.

Whether your battle is losing weight or trying to gain weight, or struggling with insecurities or past hurts, or anger and bitterness, or drugs and/or alcohol…your pain and isolation is just as painful as mine. You are not alone!

So today, I am rejoicing, not in my shame, but in the all-encompassing grace I have been shown by friends, family, and complete strangers that have embraced me not for what I have become, but for who I am on the journey to be. 

I am taking one day at a time…literally. I am trusting the One who knows and loves me…my creator…to give me the strength to fight the temptations and push me to do the dreaded exercise I have to do. So far, so good!

Whatever your struggle, I pray today you will know peace. Peace that comes from the painful release of whatever binds you. Just put it all out there! There is no living going on in the past…only death…slow, eating away at the soul death. You deserve more! We all do!

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Moving From a Spectator to a Winning Player



I am that story…you know the one. You’ve heard it a million times. I’m the fat girl, the one you pass and pretend you don’t see. The one you internally feel pity and disgust for all at the same time. I’m the one you see that makes you think to yourself, “Why doesn’t she just quit eating, or why did she let herself get that way?” How profound your questions, but shallow and insensitive, too. I am me, fat, invisible, sloppy, angry, sad, emotionally scarred, misunderstood, reckless, insecure, tired, and buried. That’s right. I said buried.

I’ve been buried in these layers of stinky, nasty, hot fat for years. I’ve been buried within this prison of fat cells and heavy skin for far too long. I’ve buried away my life under layers of fat while letting the fat suck the very desire to exist completely out of me. I have been buried so far beneath the surface of lard that I no longer know the girl hidden beneath.

Did I mention I was tired? I am so tired…and I don’t mean the physical kind of tired that you get from working hard or exercising. I certainly haven’t worked hard, and I darn sure haven’t exercised. I am the kind of tired that makes opening my eyes, thinking, getting out of bed, taking a shower, washing clothes, or having a conversation nearly impossible. The very thought of moving my body through space exhausts me. I am tired of just getting by, but not really getting by. Being buried in a coffin of fat keeps me from even doing the bare essentials.

So, when does this kind of tired become so exhausting that life is no longer livable, you ask? Well, that question is one I am willing to answer. It is now…now; I am too tired to live life any longer buried in a coffin of fat that I have managed to build for myself one cheeseburger, snack cake, and french fry at a time. I am going to dig myself out, not because I have to, but because I want to live…really, really live. Ain’t no living going on in a coffin…just dying…slow, painful, suffocating dying.

So, I guess your next question is, “What are you going to do differently that you haven’t already done before?” I am going to fight the ugliness that clouds my good thoughts and drives my well-intentioned fat fighting train right into the nearest brick wall. I am going to get up, get out, and get the life I was meant to have. Ideally, a change of mind would be enough to cause me to change my life. Realistically, I know just setting my mind to losing weight isn’t enough.

Real success will only come when I pull out one skeleton, one hurt, one bad memory at a time and let them go. Yep, that’s right. I am going to let them all go. I am going to sort through the fat cells that are each really emotional wounds that I have chosen to never let heal in the past. I have picked at the scabs of those wounds and bandaged them with tons of grease and carbs. Never really letting any of them heal, because true healing meant I could no longer bandage them with a pack of chocolate bars or bag of chips. Opening up wounds and exposing them for what they are can only happen when I decide that the pain of dealing with my past is easier than dealing with the pain that will be my future. So, it’s a toss up. I choose to sort through the past, tossing out each fat cell, to make room for real living cells. The kind of living that happens when I can play ball with my kid and not feel like I am going to die after 5 minutes. The kind of living that comes from hiking trails, bike riding, camping, swimming, and sitting in the floor and playing cards. The kind of living that sees life not for what it could have been, but how great it can be.

I have wanted to write so many times. Words were there, and I had plenty to say. The truth is, putting words to paper is impossible when there is truth that begs to be told, but too painful to see in print. And then, it dawned on me today. It wouldn’t matter if the truths of my life, painful as they are, were ever written. The excruciating painful truth is already evident in every dimple of fat on my butt, every roll of lard on my stomach, and in my disgusting, sagging, sweaty breasts. I just couldn’t uncloud my thoughts long enough to let the truths come to light and really expose them to myself for the prison they have created within my own body of morbid fat. Any spectator can see something just isn’t right. No human body is meant to be like this. No one comes to be this gross, miserable, and fat, because they want to be. It just happens, and then one day…like today…you wake up. You wake up and realize you are dying, literally, in a coffin of fat. You wake up and smell the horrific smell of death and see the sight of rotting flesh which has become what you know as life, but isn’t really life at all.

So today, I am prying open the coffin of fat one fingernail at a time. There are glimmers of light, small as they are, creeping through the cracks. I can see them. I have hope. I have hope that today is not just another promise to myself that tomorrow I will do better. No, I have hope in today. It is only today that I can get through. I will deal with tomorrow tomorrow. As I pull myself out of this dark, desperate coffin of fat, I will leave behind, to be buried forever, all of the emotional crap I have stuffed with food so as to avoid dealing with it. Yep, life for me begins today. So, here’s how I got this way…

I cannot remember being skinny…ever. There are pictures of me as a small child in which I was not at all overweight. I don’t know when it actually started…the fat that is. I just know that around 3rd grade, I wasn’t like everyone else…skinny that is. My father would tell me I was the most beautiful girl in the world. The world told me differently. School was hard. No, it wasn’t hard; it was horrific. I was tormented daily. I was called elephant girl, fatty, and big ‘un by my classmates, who I so desperately wanted to like me. They drew pictures of me, picked me last for teams, heckled me, hit me, and made me cry. I hated myself. I hated them. I hated my life at home. I hated everything and everyone around me. And yet, I always smiled, pretended like nothing bothered me, and was the jolly Angie I thought the world wanted me to be, except I was fat. I thought would hide the shelter of fat that would eventually become my grave. My dad, who I lived with, had remarried. My step mom, as much as I wanted to love her, never really bonded with me. I think I was resentful that she had taken my dad away. I manifested that resentment by being an intolerable brat towards her. I am certain I was not easy to love.

My stepbrother, on the other hand, was perfect in every way and bonded quite naturally with my father, which caused even more resentment on my behalf. I was so jealous of him. He was cute, dressed in hip clothes, and was skinny. I, on the other hand, was forced to wear handmade fat clothes that my stepmother sewed. Buying clothes for me in department stores was difficult. I was too fat. The kids at school would heckle me by saying that my mom must have had to use a parachute to make my clothes. Clearly they liked me…ha! Much of junior high school was the same. I ate when I was lonely. I ate when I was happy. I ate when I was sad. I hid my eating and felt tremendous shame. I wasn’t conscious of my emotional eating, because it was all I knew. I was so lonely, and food was my only non-judging friend. I hated food, though. But I loved it, too. After moving away from home, I did what any sensible thinking food addict would do. I went to culinary school. What better way to feed an addiction than to surround yourself with an all-consuming presence of food? I hated it there. Once again, I felt insecure and out of place. I had no desire to learn. I just wanted to eat.

Food has been the only constant in my life. When no one else was there, food was. I have tried to lose weight before...lots of times. I have done every diet there is and done quite well at many. But like so many others, I only cared about losing the weight rather than dealing with what made me gain it all in the first place. 

I have had several good jobs since culinary school. I went back to college, not once but twice. Somewhere in the midst of jumping through hoops in the working world and attempting to complete college, I just gave up...on me. I lost sight of what could be and became complacent with what was my reality...my coffin of fat. 

Nearly 10 years ago, unable to see through my haze of fat and self-loathing, I met a man who showed me some attention...you know the kind of attention any girl wants. He was married. I have always had strong Christian morals, but again...I was just lost and so wanted to have someone...anyone love me even if it was a married man who only wanted one thing.

For one night, I let down my guard and nine months later, I had a child. Now, let me just say right now that I don't condone my behavior one bit. I have wished a million times that I would have had just one ounce of enough self-esteem to stand up for myself and say no. But the truth is, I didn't. The only good thing that came from that night was my beautiful soon-to-be 9 year old son. 

Having gotten pregnant, unmarried, and by a married man of a different race kind of put a strain, to put it nicely, on my relationship with my parents. They severed ties with me when I told them I was pregnant. However, regardless of what I knew I would lose by keeping my son, I loved him whole-heartedly from the moment the doctor shocked me by saying I was pregnant. 

And...well, I have lost everything...everything that is except my weight. I have gained nearly 100 pounds in the last 9 years. I have continued to eat and gain and eat and gain until I am disgusted by the reflection of myself in the mirror. If I thought I could get clean by showering with my clothes on, I'd never get naked. 

I have been homeless, broke, broken, and nearly drove my son and I off a bridge when he was an infant, because I couldn't see how anyone could ever love us. But God...well, God loved us and loves us still. I have seen Him do things that only He could have done. 

So here I am today...I finally have a home with bricks and windows and a working stove and a refrigerator that has an ice and water dispenser. I have a working car and a job that pays the bills. My son has clothes and name brand shoes. I have struggled to get here. Nothing has been easy! Why, then, would I continue to punish myself by living in a coffin of fat? 

Don't I deserve more? Doesn't my son deserve more??? We both do! And I am ready. Yes, I said it. I am ready! I am ready to get off my lazy, tired, sweaty, stinky rear and do something different. 

So why in the world would I put all of this out there into cyber land knowing that someone would see my personal battle? Because I know without a doubt, I am not alone. There are other girls who pretend to be living, but are really dying slowly one fat cell at a time in a coffin of fat. While, I would like to believe that the road ahead will be easy, I already know it won't be. The difference this time, is that I would rather suffer through the journey of trying, then leave my son alone in this world because his fat mama was just too sorry to try.

So here's my journey...all 387 pounds of it. Yep...I really did just put it out there. And for once, I am ok with it, because that is who I am. I am the fat girl. But I don't have to be her anymore. I choose today to  crack open that fat coffin and begin life. It took me nearly 40 years to get to this weight, so I know full well that nothing will happen overnight. But by gosh, I am determined to live. I mean it...really start living. 

I will post here regularly as a way to hold myself accountable. I am what I am, but I have hope and total faith that I can do better. 

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11