Today, I woke up somewhat on time. I got out of bed, I walked down the hall to use the bathroom, noticed mom was in the bathroom and walked down the stairs to the other bathroom as I muttered to myself about how I can't wait to move out, and I sat down to relieve myself. Being tired and not wanting to just go and get right back up, I sat there for a few extra seconds, maybe even a minute, and I looked around the bathroom. I checked to see if any spiders were hiding in the nooks and crannies. I checked to see if there was any socks left behind after a load of laundry. That's when I noticed what was sitting on top of the washing machine. I guess the washer and dryer and some kind of a storage area for things that have no where else to go and that's how the bathroom scale ended up there. I don't know what I was thinking, I don't know why I didn't just pan over it and then go about my business for the day, but I did. I looked right at it and I paid attention to it, and a false sense of confidence told me to jump on there and see how much weight I've lost since I last weighed myself. Lately, I've been eating whatever I wanted because my clothes have been fitting the same. I didn't think there would be any precautions for eating what I'd wanted because I was under some kind of impression that my body had hit a steady weight and it wouldn't move no matter what I ate. Well, I was wrong. My body weight is not steady. My confidence was out of no where and way out of line. And, at 7:20 in the morning, I woke up, for real.
I don't want to go into detail. There's an immense level of shame and guilt keeping me from admitting how high my number actually is. What I will say, though, is that I've hit a mark that I never thought I would hit. For the past two years, every time I weighed myself, I would feel kind of bad about the number but I'd make myself better by saying, "Oh, it's high but at least it isn't ###." Today, I couldn't say that because, by 0.8 lbs., I went past the weight of my worst nightmares.
I'll be honest, I got pretty mad at the scale at first. I picked it up, tossed it onto the washer where I found it and stomped up the steps. I became annoyed at mom when she tried to talk to me and seemed to be picking a fight. And I went upstairs and tried to go about my morning, ignoring what I just found out about myself. I made my bed, I talked baby-talk with the dog, and I looked in the mirror to do my makeup. That's when my self-conscious was through with denial. I looked in the mirror at the girl looking back at me and, not for the first time, I was disgusted. With the messy hair I'm too lazy to take care of and look after. With the double chin getting bigger and bigger. With the cheeks getting so big there's only a shadow of a face underneath. With the fat on the arms hanging down like wings. With the gut that gets forced into pants that try to slim it down. With the fat fingers that are outgrowing the engagement ring. With the fat legs that ruin pants from rubbing together. With the fat calves that make buying boots of any kind nearly impossible. And, even with the fat feet, that have bunions at twenty years old because no shoes fit right on a foot that fat. I was disgusted. For the first time in my life, I looked in the mirror and had an actual conversation with myself. I poked around at the double chin that seemed to have grown since I last paid attention to it. I poked the arm fat that wiggled around in protest. I put my pants on and observed the way my gut makes the pants look miserable and punished. And I decided I can't keep doing this.
As I continued to get ready with a new take on my body image, my mind raced in all kinds of directions. I thought about how this would be a bad time to be healthy because there's a whole bunch of leftover Chinese food in the fridge from last night's dinner. That's when I stopped myself and realized that I make too many excuses and that's how I wedged myself in this position in the first place. Just because Chinese food is there doesn't mean I have to eat it. Even if I want some, I need to set aside a small portion and not eat until it feels like my stomach is going to burst open. After I got some makeup on and started to pick out my outfit for the day, I thought about how it really is a bad time to be embarking on this journey because of the holidays coming up and how people get offended if you don't eat their desserts. But you know, that's when I thought more about it and realized that anyone in my family knows I've had a weight problem since I was a kid. If I decide to not eat their desserts one year because I'm trying to better myself as a person then I think they'd be a little less offended by it. Honestly the holidays will probably be more enjoyable this year if I decide not to eat myself sick and constantly want to take a nap. Maybe if I take it easy on the food I'll have a better time. Maybe just generally in life, if I stop eating so much and being lazy because I ate too much, things in life will start to pick up.
I finished up my morning walking to the kitchen after brushing my teeth and deciding that I'm going to have to take this journey one meal at a time. Some days when I'm home and can snack, I'm going to have to take it one hour at a time. There will be mistakes, there will be cheat days, and I will disappoint myself. Honestly, though, I need to take control. It would be great to look at current pictures of myself and think that I look great instead of deleting all but one because I feel that I look terrible. I don't want to look at pictures of my in ninth and tenth grade and wish I still looked that way. It's time to do something about my weight once and for all. It won't be easy. It's going to take a lot of hard work and self control but I have to start now. I want to wear a beautiful wedding dress and not some sort of lumpy frumpy one they make for plus sized brides. I don't want to have to spend tons of money on clothes because the only high end clothing stores for plus sized women are expensive. I don't want to hate being intimate with Wes because I feel insecure about how I look.
Lately, Wes has been giving up soda. You used to see him fill a trash bag with empty soda cans in a few days. Lately, he's been drinking a lot of water and I've noticed it becoming a natural thing. He doesn't even think about it anymore. He has soda he could drink, he just reaches for water instead. His face has been clearing up a lot and he seems to have more energy.
