Hello blog. Long time, no see. I could go into a long winded explanation of why I stopped posting on here 8 days after I started, but there's really no better explanation than that life just got in the way. But I'm posting now because I wanted to write all these things down so I would remember them. I wrote most of this while falling asleep over the past few nights. I've proofread it, but if it seems nonsensical at times, you know why. This is my lifelong struggle. It's something that's very personal and hard to deal with, but I thought it would be good to share this with anyone who wanted to read it.
It's no secret that I've had a weight problem for most of my life. Even when I didn't REALLY have a weight problem, I still had one, because that is what I believed. I recently pulled out a few journals, dating all the way back to 1996. (I was quite the prolific writer as a kid, but since I grew up a little, I haven't written nearly as much.) I wrote constantly (even as a 7 year old) about how nobody liked me, everyone thought I was annoying, and I didn't know how I could stop myself from being so annoying. Fast forward a few years to about 11-13, and the entries become more and more depressing -- so much so that I broke down into tears several times reading about my own past. I wrote about what my ideal guy was (at the time was a tall, good- looking RM who could sing well), and that I would never meet this guy until I lost weight, because that guy would never, ever be interested in me if I was fat. A few pages later, I talk about my best friend at the time, and how I would tell her that no boys liked me. She would say the usual consoling things such as, "Whatever!" and, "Of course they do!" I wrote about how I knew better, and that she was just saying those things to make me feel better... but that she and I both knew that no one liked me because I was fat and ugly. It breaks my heart that this was the way I felt about myself at a time when I should have been more carefree and fun loving. I hate that this was something I constantly worried about. I hate that I am still that girl, 10+ years later.
Moving from Georgia to Utah has not been an easy thing for me. Since moving here 2 1/2 years ago, I've gained about 70 pounds. I'm more overweight than I've ever been before in my life. I have to wear plus size clothing, shop in special stores, and order a lot of stuff online. And even after doing all of that, and spending hundreds in the process, it is still very hard to find clothing that fits and is comfortable. Also, it's hard not to be in denial sometimes. For several years, I lived with the convenience of always fitting in a junior's extra large. No, it wasn't ideal, and I hated that my size was an "extra large"... just because all it says to me and others is that I'm too big of a person. Anyway, sometimes, even now, I just want to go to the juniors' section and pull out the size 17 pants and xl shirts, because that is what I wore for many years (what's interesting, is that while that's pretty much the end of the line as far as "normal" junior sizes, I have some pictures that I'm wearing size 17 jeans in and I look so good! No, I've never been skinny, and since I was 14 I think I managed to put on a pair of size 12 jeans and zip them up once. But one thing that I have learned about my body and society is that even though the sizes I wore were big, I'm a big person. Not big as in fat necessarily. But hey, I'm almost 5'10". I have big bones. I will never be little and petite.) To get to the point, I've been lazy. I've been comfortable for too long gaining weight, and all mostly because the idea of limiting myself makes me anxious. I often rationalized that because I had so many other stressful things going on in my life, food and exercise and losing weight were not things that I should make myself worry about. I feel like a lot of people, as they gain weight and become more and more out of shape, start to notice how badly this weight can affect them when their endurance levels are so much lower and they can't do as much. The thing is, even when I was much thinner, I've never been able to run or do any other high endurance activity. My endurance has always been terrible. So, getting more and more overweight has never really affected me in that way. I've never been athletic, or into sports, so I was never "missing" anything.
I recently went to Lagoon. It's been a while since I've been to a theme park, probably almost 3-4 years. And if you know me at all, you know I absolutely LOVE roller coasters... the more thrilling, the better. So at Lagoon, I was almost too big for a couple of the roller coasters. On one ride, I had two different ride attendants come up to me and ask if the lap bar couldn't possibly go any further down on me. It was more on the tops of my legs than my lap. My legs were too big for it to come all the way to my body. The first attendant made me get up and switch places with Rachel so I wouldn't be on the end. I of course immediately started crying. I'm also ashamed to say, that I told the guy "thanks for embarrassing me" and then as we were leaving, I flipped him off. I know he was just doing his job and trying to keep me safe, but when I get hurt and angry, I do and say things I don't mean (my family knows this well). The second time (same ride) the attendant (different) asked me to pull it further down on my lap... I of course told him there was no way it was going down any further. So he asks me if it's all right if he tries. So he pushes (with his whole body) to get it tighter, and yes, it did get tighter. It also felt like it was pinning me into the roller coaster. The roller coaster was fun, but the getting on it... not so much.
The other roller coaster that I had trouble with, no attendant said anything, and I was a little surprised. It's probably because it was the wooden roller coaster and wasn't as fast or "dangerous". My butt did not go all the way down into that seat. I had to awkwardly sit with one hip higher than the other, and the lap bar was pressed hard against my higher hip, and then there was probably a good 3-4 inch gap between my other hip and the lap bar. It was also a fun roller coaster, but not a fun experience. It's also not pleasant to come to that realization... Oh, I'm too big for this.
Every other time I've tried to lose weight, my main reasons have been things like, I want boys to like me, and I want to buy cute clothes in small sizes. But now, everything has come to a head. I now know I need to lose weight not only for my health and wellbeing, but so that I can continue doing the things that I love. My weight has never really restricted me from doing that much, because I've always been just on the edge of being overweight: not fat enough to really be that fat, but not thin enough to be thin. Well, I am obese now. I've cried a lot about it and felt like it was impossible to change myself. But if I don't, I'm in for a lifetime of many more unhappy and unpleasant experiences.
I've tried losing weight almost every possible method, sometimes I've been successful and sometimes I'm not. I've learned more than anything, it's not the diet or exercise plan that I choose, but my overall commitment and willingness to keep trying. I'm going to join weight watchers, actually go to meetings and all of that. I don't want to live my life on the sidelines anymore. I don't want to watch my twenties flash past with nothing to show for it. So here's hoping my next blog post will be with some better, happier news; that I will follow through with what I've said here and will remember how awful this has always made me feel.
