Style, confidence, and thank you's!

I'm constantly trying to get used to the new me that I am creating through my weight loss. First, I have been trying to learn to accept compliments without adding something self-deprecating afterwards. For example, here is how it usually goes: "Tonya, you look amazing!" Then I say, "Thank you. I feel really fat in this....maybe I'm bloated." I want to learn to just say thank you, but it's really hard for me. I have been trying to figure out why I say this, but have yet to come up with a reason other than the fact that I'm not used to really heart-felt congratulations. I guess I will need to work on that much more. Second, CLOTHES. Need I say more...okay, STYLE. I have always looked okay, but have lacked a certain sense of panache. As I have been shrinking down and really looking at my clothes, I have come to find that my wardrobe was really dated and boring. I know that part of that is due to the truly limited selection that is the plus sized world. I could go to Lane Bryant and buy some cute clothes, but how often can I really pull off an off-the-shoulder lime green tunic with sequins and beads (which has to be hand washed and line dried by the way). Then there is my new fave Torrid. I find lots of clothes there, and many with panache out the wazoo, but my wallet hurts at the thought of going there. I bought a dress for $90, a pair of jeans for $48 (best jeans in the world), and a pair of underwear for $12. Let me go on about the jeans for a quick minute. If you are a plus size woman you must go try on the Source of Wisdom jeans that they sell there. I absolutely love them. They make me feel like a million bucks, and I look like two million. They are a must have!!! Basically, if you have a mass of disposable income you can be a fashionable full figured woman. I have spent most my life shopping at the bargain stores: Ross, dd's, Walmart, etc... I have found great bargains at these places, but I was so big that there wasn't much one could do to make me truly fashionable. I was a size 28. I am very proportioned which is nice, but I was really big. Have you ever looked at the clothes for big women at these types of stores. It's either shapeless, stretchy so it will fit anything...including a refrigerator...black, neon colored (cuz every big girl wants to be a specter in vivid orange who can be spotted across a football field), or has a picture of a Disney character on it. There have been so many times that I have walked in to find a basic item only to leave feeling enraged at the lack of options I have. Currently I am a size 20, I guess. See I just did that self-deprecating bull shit! "I guess." Okay, let's try that again... I am a size 20. I fit into my sister's jeans that she gave me (20), and I just got a really cute pair of Capri's (20), and a new dress (20), so yeah...I'm a 20. YAY ME!!! I have been feeling really low about myself the past few weeks. All my clothes were too big and I don't have the money to be buying complete new wardrobes, so I was a down because I felt ugly. Two important people in my life refused to let me feel this way. First my BFF bought me this really cute dress from dd's. It is white on the top, grey on the bottom, and separated by a thick black elastic band that makes it empire cut, and it's short... so cute ($13.99). I went to Ross and Target yesterday with my husband and here is what he got me... A really cute, short, multi-colored, spaghetti-strap dress which is way casual due to the knit-cotton fabric, but it can be dressed up as well ($14.99); a black, open-front, soft, cardigan-like jacket/cover-up which is really sexy and flowy without covering up my weight loss ($9.99); a short-sleeved, grey blouse with ruffles up by the neck which is somewhat reminiscent of the 40's to me ($10.99); a cute pair of size 20 Capri's that have a cute cuff on the bottom and even cuter pockets that button ($15.99); a sweater-like short-sleeved top that has a faint design on it, and a ruffle that starts at the collar and goes down the length of the front which comes with a really cute black belt that makes it an empire waist ($9.99 and my husband would not let me even think about putting it back); and a beautiful green dress that criss-crosses in the front down to the empire waste and then flows down to just below my knees ($6.24). These additions to my wardrobe not only make me feel beautiful, but I am gaining a style that I never really had the chance to hone before. It's important to feel confident and that is what the $80 spent yesterday bought: my confidence. I am shapely, beautiful, and the world needs to watch out. Just think, once I hit my goal weight all hell is going to break loose and my wallet will definitely feel it. (253)

One Week!

A lot can happen in a week. Your world can turn upside down, and it can turn right back up again. A week ago yesterday I got married to the love of my life. A week and a few days ago I ended my four month weight-loss competition at work. Within this time I ended something that has kept me going towards my ultimate goal of reaching 175 lbs, and I began the rest of my life as a new me both in name and relationship. These changes have left me reflective. I'm afraid that without the competition I will slip into old habits and start gaining weight back. I'm afraid that I will not be a good wife. I'm afraid that once I conceive a child I will not be a good mother. There is no basis for these fears, but they are here just the same. I haven't been eating like I should. I let myself eat however I wanted during my wedding weekend. Hell, I was in Vegas! I didn't do as much damage as would be expected, but the fact that I handled myself pretty well made me think I could extend this behavior just a bit since I got back; I have had pizza, chips and salsa, and a carne asada burrito. Damn the little Mexican place by my house and their great salsa. I have tried and tried to make it, but I can never make it as good, which means that I also get their chips while I'm there... yummy... grease coated fried tortillas! Okay, so I know I have to wake up out of this carb stupor and get my ass back to the gym. I plan on going to work out at least three times a week starting this week. I am not going to ever go back to the weight I was; I am going to continue to lose this weight. I know I am a good person, and my husband loves me, so I have no reason to believe that I won't be a good wife. However, I'm still afraid that this relationship will end because I'm not good enough. All my relationships have ended badly, sans the relationship I had a couple years ago... it just ended. Throughout losing weight I have had to open my eyes to the fact that I deserve to be happy and I deserve good things in my life. In order to have these things we have to feel worthy enough to accept them. My husband makes me feel worthy. He tells me I am all the time. I am so honest with him about who I am and what I have been through, which means that I must also be honest with myself. I am worthy of a healthy, happy relationship. I am going to be a good wife...I AM a good wife. I also have no reason to believe that I will be anything but a good mother. I have had plenty of examples of what not to do with a child, of how not to act, so I have always planned to do things my own way. I have always known the things that I would do differently than my parents. I think as humans we all do that: pick what worked with us and throw away the rest. Somewhere in growing up we do become our parents in a way. I'm afraid that I will treat my children in a way that will make them feel unworthy of happiness. Everyone I know, almost everyone, tells me that I'm going to be a fantastic mother. I know that I instinctively will protect, nurture, and love my child, but is that enough. It is time for me to look at myself in the mirror and say, "I'm not going back to who I was. I'm a great wife, and I'm going to be an even better mother." This is just the beginning of everything...every day is a new beginning. It's strange to know what I'm feeling, allow myself to feel it, all the while knowing that I need to get over it and move on. Negative thoughts and feelings are just as destructive as positive thoughts are productive. It is so important not to give in to the negative feelings, but there is a point at which I believe we need to feel them. We need to know the lows in order to truly appreciate the highs, but now it's time for me to cast off these negative fears that keep creeping up on me and that means I need to shed the relationships that cause me to feel this way as well. Do not ever let anyone make you feel like you deserve anything less than happiness. I have every reason to be happy right now and I won't allow myself to feel any other way than that. (262)

I'm not a lemon...I just hide them!

I've come to the realization with the increase of weight throughout my life there has been an increase in the amount of true emotion I suppressed. While shedding pounds I have had to confront these deep lying emotions. I have to let go of the past, but in order to do this I must feel, label, and forgive. It's hard to forgive when almost all of those people who must be forgiven are not even aware that they need forgiveness. I have been stuck on this last idea. Do these people really need to know that I harbor resentment? I believe that forgiveness is about my letting go and not about people feeling punished. I am ready to let go... for myself rather than for anyone else. This is not always due to things done by me or them, but due to life in general. Life gives us all lemons. Some of us make lemonade. Some of us sell the lemons on the side of the road. Some of us eat the lemons til we're sick. Some of us, like me, hide the lemons anywhere we can find. I have lemons under my bed. I have lemons on the bottom of my closet. I have lemons everywhere. With each pound I lose I pull out some lemons and create something beautiful out of them. I've lost so much weight that I am now starting a batch of limoncello! Martini anyone? Before a lemon can be used, I must hold that lemon. I must slice it, smell it, taste it. Each lemon has a different taste, it has a different feeling, and it requires a new perspective from which to view it. I cannot deal with a childhood lemon without reverting back to that hurt child. I must let myself feel that lemon in the state of mind that it should have been dealt with in the first place. These lemons are also of different weight. I have a 50lb lemon hidden under my shirt. Even though I'm aware of it, I am not ready to cut into it just yet...and that's okay. I know that once I am ready to pull that lemon out it's going to make a hell of a lot of limoncello martinis!!! (260)

Where have I been?

It's amazing. I am down 54 lbs. Wow...54. When I started this my doctor had told me that I needed to drop 60 lbs before even thinking about trying to conceive a child. I didn't want to be a woman who was so big already that once she was pregnant people couldn't tell. I also didn't want to be asked when I was due before I even started trying to conceive. I thought that this would be harder. I thought that I would try and fail, but I haven't. I have always had what it takes, but I was never really ready to trust myself. Trust is so important. Trust between people, and trust in yourself. I not only have trust in myself, but I have trust in those that are in my life: my friends, my family, and my love. I never really thought that I could do this. I am surprising myself every day. I have spent so much of my life not happy, but with a smile on my face, that it was hard to recognize the fact that I was destroying my life with food. It hasn't been until recently that I have come to understand what happiness really is. Happiness is being able to say that your "skinny" jeans are too big. Happiness is finding that almost every item in your closet is loose and does not show off your figure. Happiness is eating a half a baked chicken breast, a half of a cup of wild rice, and a cup of steamed veggies and being full. Happiness is being able to say, "No thank you, I don't need that doughnut." Happiness is being able to tell people that you don't want a birthday cake and really meaning it. Sometimes I look in the mirror and just think, "Hello there! It's nice to meet you!" I am meeting myself every day. I am learning just how strong, intelligent, and safe I am. Don't get me wrong. I am the same girl I have always been. It's just that my clothes don't fit, I like going to the gym, I eat a balanced diet, I don't need to have a drink to loosen up, and I don't need to fake being happy. There have been a lot of changes in my life recently. I went through profound sadness for my best friend's lost relationship, and found bliss in his new one. It's amazing to go from being pissed because my clothes were too tight to being pissed that I have to go out and spend a bunch of money on new ones because they are all too big. I gave up on true happiness along time ago; just another myth perpetuated by sappy romantic comedies. I'm beyond happy...I'm ecstatic. I'm ecstatic for my body, my mind, my relationship, and our future. Don't give up. If you're reading this and thinking about your own pathways just make sure that your head is in the right place, that you're surrounded by those who will love and support you, and that you trust yourself. That is what has made all the difference for me. (260)

Is your child safe?

I would like to start this post by saying that I am not a doctor, nor a psychologist, but I do know about fat. If you have a young child who is overweight you have a major problem. I don't mean you have a problem on your hands. I mean that there is a major issue in your child's life and either you don't know who or what it is, or it's you. First, have your child checked out by a doctor. Have them do all the major tests so that you can find out if it is a physical or mental issue you're dealing with. Next I would look for any signs of abuse. Is your child left with anyone at all for long periods of time? How much do you know about their day care provider? Look for physical signs and emotional signs. You should know your child well enough to notice a change, if you don't then that might be part of the problem. Is your child sexualizing their game play? At one time I played strip tag with my friends when I was in 5th grade. My mother caught us and called us "silly." She asked who thought of the game and I told her I had...she just laughed. This was a sign. Are they playing dirty with their dolls or action figures? My dolls were dirty all the time, which was kind of funny to me looking back until I took a psychology class in college and found that this is also a warning sign. Now, sometimes this is natural, but again you should know your child. My stepmom (who I just call Mom) once told me that when I was a child I would sit in a drawn up position and just rock myself back and forth. She also told me that I used to daydream and they would really have to snap me out of it when they asked me a question. This is not normal. I don't care who you're child is, this is not normal. It could have been a signal that I was being sexually abused by the teenage son of my day care provider, but then again my rocking could have happened after the boy had been arrested for abusing a number of kids there. I never got the full story of what happened with him. I do remember going to court ordered psychology sessions, which I assume were used in court. I don't know if he went to jail. I don't even know his last name. I do remember he gave me my first french kiss when he rode me home on his bike once...I think I was about 4 or so. The truth is that fat is a barrier. It helps guard us from all the evils in the world, or that is how it feels. It's better to be fat and unappealing sexually then to be skinny and violated; however, many pedophiles are aware of this fact so they see obese children as an easy target. If someone can do it to us once, then they must be able to also. When we can't control anything else we can usually control the amount of food that goes in our bodies, which means we either become anorexic, bulimic, or fat. Nice choices there. I also know that when we feel abandoned food is there...food is always there. I can count on my peanut butter, honey, and banana sandwich, or my pint of Haagen-Dazs. I could never count on my mother. I could not count on my family. I could not count on men. There is a correlation between abuse, neglect, and obesity. If you can rule out physical ailments and sexual abuse then it is time to look at the type of life you provide for your child. Are you super controlling? Do you allow them to make any decisions for themselves? Do you sign them up for every type of activity you can find: dance, volleyball, violin lessons, girl/boy scouts, etc. Your child may be trying to defy you by eating, or they may be trying to make themselves feel like they have control in their own life. This can start very early, so it is important that you have a balanced relationship with your child and that you make their lives as stress free as possible. The last thing you need to check is the type of food that is available to your child. Do you eat fast food and feed it to your toddler? Do you make fruit and veggies a part of every meal? Do you buy fruit by the foot or apples? Do you make home made meals, or is boxed process foods like Hamburger Helper? Your child cannot protect themselves. It is your job. It is your job to make sure that they are never violated. It is your job not to control every aspect of who they are so that they have more to control than what they put in their mouth. It is your job to create a safe environment with open communication. If your child is fat, there is a reason. It is your job to find out what that reason is...no matter how painful it is for you or them. I will do anything I have to in order to never have to apologize to my child for allowing them to be put in harms way! Can you say the same thing? (269)

Naked much?

I went to the doctor today. I was supposed to get new medication for my shoulder because I would like to one day be able to use it again, but ended up talking about my weight loss. Last time I saw the doctor I was 297lbs, and that was only a little over a month ago. It was priceless. She walked in the room with my chart already open, and then said, "Shall we see how you're doing?" as she flipped to the front of the chart. Her draw dropped and her eyes went wide. I blurted out "I think that new scale is wrong." When I got on the scale I swear it looked like it said 284. How could I gain 10lbs in the course of one day? She said, "278?!? Wow, that's really good." In my mind I was wondering why I couldn't just take off all my clothes and weigh myself naked...that always makes me feel good. I don't think they allow that seeing as the scale is in the hallway, open for all to see. Why the hell would they put the scale somewhere that everyone could see?!? Just what an overweight person wants... I feel like saying, "Yeah, I'm a fatty...but not for long!" It's so weird to stop and reflect on the fact that this is a daily battle. I am fighting for my health, and I am winning. I can't believe how strong I am to not give up. Tonight my friend took pictures of me at a Hookah bar, and for the first time in a long time I didn't feel disgusted with myself. I can start to see the difference in my face and arms. I felt my collar bone for the first time in years too. The things you take for granted...Who ever really thinks about their collar bones? I never realized it was gone, covered by a dense layer of fat, and it wasn't until my fingers ran down my neck to the bottom of the V in my shirt that I felt it. I didn't know what it was...that's how long it's been since I felt it. I'm just now feeling comfortable with myself that I don't mind seeing myself naked. Sometimes I wonder if my neighbors ever catch a glimpse of me running from my room to the kitchen in my barely there undies, using my hands as a make-shift bra, to weigh myself. Doesn't everyone keep their scale in the kitchen? I feel pretty safe in my nudity as this happens around 6AM and most of the neighbors keep their blinds closed 24/7. Then I wonder if there is someone who watches this daily occurrence, "Is Naked Girl going to be running? Hmmm...she must have not heard her alarm." I hope they at least notice that Naked Girl is getting smaller. Then there are the bouts of paranoia. The last thing I need is to be in the news: Teacher Indicted for Nudity. I am finding a sort of confidence in this shrinking body of mine. I still have pockets of fat, otherwise known as bat wings, and my skin is sagging in a way that makes me rethink this losing weight thing, but then I remember that this body is in the middle of a metamorphosis. I am spinning my cocoon, and I will slumber, but when I break through I will be a beautiful butterfly and if all else fails I will wear the shit out of my spanx. (274)

SCREW 280!

I have been told that when you write in all caps it means your angry, so yes, I'm angry! It wasn't long ago that I was happy I was in the 270's just a bit ago, but my happiness was fleeting as I quickly went back up to 280. I have since been stuck at 280. What the hell. I have been doing well. Okay, so just because Skinny Cow ice creams are in my calories doesn't mean I should have one every day, but every now and then I need a Skinny Cow. I have tried lowering my calories: 280. I have tried raising my calories: 280. I have walked more: 280. I have walked less: 280. I have hiked: 280! I have done almost everything I can think of only to wake up in the morning and weigh myself...a small glimmer of hope on my face as I think, "This will be the day!"...and then 2"freakin"80!?! I am in a competition. I need to get it together. I know that I should be happy with a 34 pound loss so far, but I'm not. I like a contestant on The Biggest Loser who loses 9 pounds in a week, yet is in tears because it wasn't a double digit. I wonder when this will stop. Will I become one of those dieters that is never satisfied??? Who am I kidding? I can't wait to meet goal weight so that I can eat a fattening meal without feeling guilty. I can't wait to be the girl that goes out to dinner, eats a beautifully fattening meal, and then goes home and gets into her swimsuit (maybe a bikini after my list of skin reducing surgeries are finished) and swims laps with her man or woman. I chose swimming because it's sexy and I figure it will lead to more exercise outside of the pool. With all of this said, here is what I vow to do: keep track of all of my calories, walk 3 miles on the treadmill at the gym every day this week (staying above 3.0), no Skinny Cows, and varying my choice of snacks daily. If this doesn't work I will be forming the "Forever 280 Club." It's times like this that I wish I was on a spin off of The Biggest Loser and Project Runway so that Bob could give me food tips (Extra Sugar Free gum anyone?), Tim Gun could tell me to "Make it Work," and Jillian could kick my butt in the gym. I'm tired of 280. I loathe 280. I despise the way it taunts me from the face of my masochistic scale. I want to dig a hole and bury it, but really I'm just going to kick it's freakin' ass!(280, Duh)

The root of my fat: Part 2

Last night I dreamt about my mom. I haven't dreamt about her in a long time. My mom died about 4 years ago. She killed herself by overdosing on a number of prescription pills (not all of them were hers...addicts can always get their hands on what they want). I had not had contact with her in over four years. My dream was about when she worked at this bar in the Ulpand/Ontario area. I didn't know why I was dreaming about that. I loved it when she worked there because I had fun, and then I remembered "Bill" (name obviously changed). It also came to me that the last blog probably prompted me to think about it. See, when my mom bartended at that bar I was able to go in on weekends with her. They had a huge TV Screen that they projected music videos on, and a stage up front for people to do Karaoke. On the weekends I was there I got to dance to the music videos and the men paid me after each song. Some weekends I could make up to $100 each day. It was fun. It made me feel pretty. I was in fourth grade, so how could it possibly be dirty?!? One guy in particular, Bill, was a regular of mine. He would pay me up to $20 for a song. He was sweet. He brought me gifts: a gold bracelet, clothes, stuffed animals, and every weekend it was different. He became friends with my mom and stepdad, and would come over for barbecues. He honestly was not a bad guy. I had started to put on weight at this point and didn't feel particularly attractive. WHY WAS I WORRIED ABOUT THIS IN FOURTH GRADE?!? One night Bill stayed over because my parents and he had been drinking and he didn't want to drive. My mom was running late for work the next morning, so Bill offered to wait for me to finish getting ready. He was nice that way, thoughtful. I went into the bathroom and finished my hair. I walked back into my bedroom and Bill was there. He was looking out my window. I felt awkward, but thought nothing of it since Bill was just Bill. He turned and looked at me. He walked over to me and put his arms around me and he held me for a long time. I could feel him becoming aroused. I pulled away, and he caught my wrist and said to not be afraid. I told him that I didn't think my mom would like what he was doing. He told me that I was beautiful and that he liked chubby girls...he thought that their curves were womanly and beautiful. I kind of liked what he said. I felt fat but he told me the opposite. I eased my tension. He walked me to the bed and sat down. He undressed me and looked at my body. I turned in a circle. He kept telling me how beautiful I was. I believed him. He shut my door and then had his way with me. I was ready for touching...that had happened before, but when he told me what he wanted I resisted. My fight didn't last too long. He was about 6'3" and 215 lbs, and he was very, very strong. Afterward, I got dressed and he took me to the bar. I tried telling my mom when I got there, but she was on cocaine at the time, so I danced. I earned $125 that day, most of which was from Bill. (279)

The root of my fat: Part 1

I have gone to a therapist enough in the past that I can sort through my issues and name them. There has always been a disconnect between naming my issues and working through them. My fat is definitely an issue and through this process of losing weight I am working through it. The beginning of working through any issue is to find the root of the issue and articulate it verbally. For me, it is important to articulate it in writing. There are many roots to my fat. One root occurred when I was in the fourth grade. I really wanted a birthday party that I could invite all of my friends to. My mother, whom I lived with at the time, put a lot of energy into planning my party. I wrote out invitations for about 20 friends. To save money, my mother decided to hand deliver them one day instead of mailing them out. I stayed home because my mom had other errands to run after. That night I couldn’t sleep because my mom hadn’t come home yet; it was midnight. I started calling some bars that I knew that she went to. My mom was a drug addict and an alcoholic, so I figured I was on the right track. One of the bartenders that I called put my mom on the phone. She was drunk, and I knew that she shouldn’t drive home. I walked from our house to the bar which was about a mile away. I walked into the bar and the bartender recognized me (no, this wasn’t the first time I had to do this) and pointed to my mother who was in the corner making out with this guy who wasn’t my stepdad. She got mad at me for coming to get her. She yelled at me telling me that I was the daughter and she was the mother. I told her to act like it then, and I walked out. I waited outside because I knew that she would follow, but I never expected the make-out guy to come out too. He offered to give us a ride home because my mother was drunk. I just wanted us to walk home, but my mother was too far gone to walk. She opened up the door to the backseat and lied down, which left the front seat next to make-out guy for me. I climbed in very hesitantly and started to tell the guy how to get to our house. As he was driving he kept looking back to check on my mom. I started to hear her breathing slow, so I knew she was falling asleep. It was at that time that the guy put his hand on my leg. He said that I was beautiful; I was the skinniest I remember being at that time. He said that I would be turning into a woman soon, and it would be hard for me to keep the boys away. He tried to touch me more and I pulled away while also pushing his hand away. He went to reach for my chest and I bit his hand. He slapped me in the face. I made him pull over by screaming. He dumped me out about halfway home. As I started walking, I saw him pull over again and my mother stumbled out of the car. I ran up to her and helped her walk home. She yelled at me the whole way for being mean to make-out guy. It was my fault that we were walking, according to her. When we got home I changed her, got her water, an aspirin, and then tucked her in. I went to bed and fell quickly asleep after that. About a week later it was my birthday. I got up and put on my new birthday outfit. I helped my mom decorate the house, and finish my beautiful birthday cake. My party was to start at 1:00 PM, and at 3:00 when no one had showed up I picked up my birthday cake and a fork and I ate the whole thing. I sat alone outside eating my entire birthday cake and crying. How is it that not one of my friends came? Didn’t anyone like me other than make-out guy? It wasn’t until about two weeks later that I found out why no one came. I was in my mom’s closet looking for a purse to use when I picked up a purse from the bottom of the closet to find the stack of invitations that my mother had said that she delivered. It seems that she went straight to the bar that day instead. My mother wasn’t home when I found them. I thought about taking them out and putting them on the kitchen table so she would know that I knew, but that was a pretty fruitless idea. It wouldn’t change her. I just wasn’t as important as the drinking was. So, instead, I went to the kitchen and started making dinner. At dinnertime, when my mother again wasn’t home, I ate the whole thing. Food has always been there. Food was constant when everything around me was in turmoil. I didn’t want boys to touch me like make-out guy did, so getting fat started to look pretty good. At some point fat went from a safety mechanism into my reality. I am losing it now, the fat and the self-loathing that I felt. It’s a process, but it’s important to name the root and let it go, so I do. I let go of anger towards my mother. I let go of the fear of being loved. I let go of trying to please others. I let go of everything that this memory brings, and I grab a hold of what I know to be true now. I am strong! I deserve happiness! I am loved! (278)

Is it a gift or an insult?

Have you ever known someone who has lost weight, and when they get down smaller than you they offer you their clothes? Sometimes, from the right friend, this is seen as a gift, and other times it is an insult. Take friend A: the day she got smaller than me she showed up at my doorstep with clothes in hand. I was then prompted to try on the clothes, which could be fun, but it was accompanied by comments like, "Wow. That looks really good on you. I could never fill it out all the way!" Is that supposed to be a compliment. Isn't this the same as "Wow, Fatty! You have all the fat that's needed to fill every inch of the fabric. I was never fat enough to do that." Now, some may say that I am jumping to conclusions, but that is the way comments such as these make me feel. That friend even went on to give me clothes that were too big for me (Yes, she was bigger than me at one time!) accompanied with comments like, "If you gain more weight that will look really cute on you!" Seriously?!? How can anyone take this in a good way? Then there is friend B: while trying to lose weight in the past I had a friend who was also trying to lose weight, and she was about three sizes below me at that time. She had gone through her clothes and invited me over to her house. She had healthy snacks and a movie that we were going to watch; it must be said that even though I'm getting healthy, snacks are always a good idea. Being fat is like being an alcoholic: your only one bite of a cupcake away from falling off the wagon. She started out by letting me know that she didn't want me to take what she was going to say in a bad way, but that she had some clothes that were my size and she thought I might want some of them. I had already lost some weight, so the clothes were definitely needed, and she made it a point to say things like, "That looks really good, but you'll probably only be able to wear it for a month at the rate that you're losing." Wasn't that nice? That is the way to do it! It's easy to see that Friend A gave insults, and Friend B gave gifts. The most surprising gift of all came from my sister. My family has been supportive in the past, but it always seemed as if they didn't truly believe that I could do it. It's not what they said ("Come on. You can have one piece of cake!"), but more the lack of support I have felt in the past; however, about a week or so ago my sister gave me two pairs of jeans that were practically brand new. She said that she knew I had been losing weight and she thought I might be able to use them because they were too big for her. Now, this normally could be considered an insult, but when you take into account the fact that the jeans are two sizes smaller than me it's a whole different story. My sister actually believes that I will continue to lose weight long enough to drop at least two sizes. Wow...that really means something. Now it will be my turn to give "gifts," and I need to make sure that I do it in a constructive way. I never want to turn into that bitchy, I-used-to-be-fat-but-now-I'm-skinny-and-better-than-you person. I don't want anyone to feel the way that I have, and sometimes still do. I know I don't have all the answers. What works for me may not work for you, so I will do my best not to become the know-it-all that drives everyone crazy either. Anyway, if you have clothes that you would like to "gift" to me, make sure that they are size 24 or below and that you pair them with a morale inspiring comment. After all, dieting is easier when you surround yourself with positive people, so if you have any Friend A's cut them out now. You'll feel a whole hell of a lot lighter.(283)

Sick or Obsessed?

Okay...so I have been laying in bed for the last few days with strep throat. I wasn't going to mention it, but I realized halfway through my sickness that I missed my weekly blog. Darn it! Since realizing this fact, I have had many different ideas about what to write. I was going to write about the root of my fat; however, that is a long, long sad story. I then thought about gifts and the motives behind them, which I will write about soon, but then I was inspired to take a different route. It all began the second day of my sickness. There was a bright, friendly sun shining on the scale that morning. As I stepped on to my companion piece I truly believe I heard Angels and birds in harmony together as I saw 283. I was elated. Leave it to sickness to help me break my little slow down. Now I should have, at that point, chalked it up to the fact that I was too weak to eat or drink anything, but instead I decided to jump on the happiness bandwagon. I mean, it was all freakin' around me. Fast forward two days. I stepped onto the scale that morning hopeful to be in the 270's. I knew it was asking a lot...3 pounds in two days...and as I stepped onto the scale (holding my stomach so that I could see the deity that was the digital display) I looked in horror to find 292. Seriously?!? How could this happen?!? I know, I know.... the meds both named water retention in the information pamphlet, I had basically been starving myself via mother nature's strep-throat-conspiracy. The big problem here is that weighing myself is making me become this paranoid, scale-watching teenager who needs to drop one more pound to make the cheer squad. I constantly have to remind myself that this is a journey, and like all journeys there will be hills and valleys. There is a fine line between level headed direction and obsession. There are times when I become obsessed and that is when it's important to have someone that will notice the onset of obsessive behavior and remind you that this is for life, it's not a quick fix. I am renewed knowing that although my body is in flux from being sick, I will continue with my diet and exercise plan and I will see the results on the scale. The one thing I don't want to become is the person who thinks back on their life and the only anecdote they have to tell is about walking to school and back, uphill both ways, in the snow. In my anecdote there will be a downhill, or at least a downsize. I don't walk to school anyway. I'm an adult damn it. I have a car. (290)

Trying not to be psychotic!

Okay, so I must start out by saying that this post is not meant to offend anyone who suffers from, or know someone who is suffering from any type of mental disorder, but I do believe there is a psychosis involved in being fat. With that being said, I am doing my damnedest not to go crazy again, and when I say crazy I mean "Do not do this! You know you can't do this! Damn it, I deserve it, so I'm going to do it!" crazy. For example, I know that drinking alcohol is not looked at in a positive way when dieting, actually there is science to back that notion up, but I thought to myself that since I love to go to the bar and hang out with the regulars, and since I have been doing well for over a month, I could go and enjoy myself while watching my caloric intake. This is exactly why I have had problems with my weight for so long. Notice the long conversation I had to have with myself in order to give myself an excuse for blowing off my diet for a night. It must be said that I did drink within my daily calories, and I only had five drinks. Here is where my psychosis traps me... I was 293 the night I went out (Saturday), and it took me five days to get back to that number. I don't know if it was the alcohol, or maybe my natural womanly cycle which caused this problem, but I don't care. It was a message to me that this can't continue. I have done this type of thing in the past. I started my first try at weight loss with a company that rhymes with schweight schwatchers. I did well on that program by losing 30 lbs, but once I realized I could do it I stopped doing it. It's like when my mom would take antidepressants when I was a kid. She would change into this loving, level, healthy mom, but then she would tell herself that she was so well she didn't need the drugs anymore; at that point she would revert back to the mom that I knew on a daily basis. I do that with diets. I start losing weight and then I go back to things that aren't good for me. The difference is that this time I won't allow myself to be enticed by the thought of going out with the girls for drinks until I am at a more manageable weight. I won't say that I will never give in to things I want to do because this whole journey is taking place so that I can do just that, and I want to make a life change and that means that I will give in sometimes, but if you're at the bar and you see me lifting that Absolut Blue Monster to my lips just stop me and say, "Wow...you look great...what have you been doing?". Hopefully at that point I will put the drink down and order a water! (290)

How do you swallow a skinny girl?

I am tired of being told that people can see the skinny girl inside of me. I am not Zeus, I cannot swallow people; however, I have heard this so often I'm starting to believe that I might have actually done it and just blocked it out. I know that people are just trying to be nice. They think that this type of comment is somehow going to motivate you to get on the right path and get healthy, but it just drives you crazy trying to remember how that skinny girl got inside... "What did I have for dinner last night? A skinny girl? No.... not a skinny girl." I put this comment in the same category as the almost as infamous, "You have such a pretty face." Seriously ?!? I mean come on... God forbid I have an ugly one because those people would have nothing positive to say; they were really grasping at straws to get that "pretty face" in there. People who have always been skinny, or skinny people that have gained weight in adulthood, do not understand the plight of those who had to go through the cruel, gauntlet of horror that is adolescence, or the scars that it causes. Truth be told, I don't know what is the right thing to say to someone to try and inspire them to lose weight. I have listened to people my entire life tell me that they want me to lose weight, that I need to lose weight, and I have never really heard them. Weight loss cannot happen because someone told you to do it. It has to come from within. You have to be ready, and I finally am! I don't know...I think it's just that I finally feel that skinny girl I swallowed trying to claw her way out. (Currently 294 pounds)