275 - Why Don't Fatties Just Get It?

It has been a busy week (or couple of weeks) and my weight hasn't done much. That's probably a good thing, though I'd rather say I was so busy I forgot to eat and (YAY) I lost weight, but maintaining is good too.

Actually, I guess I lost a pound since the last check-in. Good for me.

I haven't done great on eating, but I haven't gone off the wagon - I guess that is what the scale shows.

But I have to reiterate to myself: I FEEL FANTASTIC IN MY SKIN

Maybe not literally "fantastic" but I feel so much better in my clothes. So. Much. Better.

It is good to be back here. This 20 pounds make a huge difference in the way my clothes feel. I'm curious what another 20 will do. I'd really like to know, so I have to get back on track. I'm still 10 pounds away from my lowest low, and I want to break through that.

I'm going to get some bloodwork done to see if there's anything going on with me (polycystic ovaries, blood sugar issues), so that should be interesting. It's something I've needed to do for a while. I don't know if that has any issue with me having such a difficult time losing weight, but better to know than to ignore.

I do have to admit a little disappointment when they aim me at a nutritionist. Years and years of being overweight and battling my weight has nearly made me a nutritionist. It isn't nutrition for me that is an issue. It is my head, my heart. I've been to a nutritionist and it was a waste of time. It was one more (thin) person looking at me, thinking if I'd only eat right I wouldn't be a cow. I don't need to hear or experience that any more than I already have in my life - (some) thin people that think they have something over the fat people of the world because they've never had a weight issue.

I'm not trying to bash on thin people. But there's something in some of them that will never understand the BATTLE. Not to take away from the hard work that many people do in the gyms. There are plenty of thin people that work their butts off, and I salute them. Go thin people of the world.

It's like having a balance of $1000 in your checkbook, keeping the same income and expenses, and maintaining that amount. (thin people)

OR

Having $500 in your checkbook, trying to reach $1000, but getting paid less and having to work more. (fat people)

The thin people think they have the formula, and wonder what is SO WRONG with the fatties that can't simply get it.

This didn't start off with a rant, but it seems to be ending on one. When I started thinking about my experience with nutritionists, it hit a nerve. My doctor telling me that brown rice and whole grains are better than white rice and white breads, that hit a nerve.

...Backing off this track. It's Monday and I want to start it off right. My clothes fit well, I'm still going at it. Results will come. I'm doing good.

Ups and Downs

I was sick with the stomach flu, which knocked me down to 269. After I regained my health again, I went back to 270. I'll weigh myself next week to see where I'm falling.

I've also been doing some fun summery things lately, which is great for the spirit, but not always so good for my eating. I can't pre-pack a lunch where the calories are all accounted for when we hit a baseball game, or picnick with friends. I have to just allow myself to either skip counting that day or try to figure it out later. I watch my portions. Normally I'd be going for walks, but it is so hot out that my walking has been decreased. Knowing this, I have to figure out what I will do to ensure I don't explode.

But the great thing is, I met up with some of my lady friends last night and one kept commenting on how good I looked and how I'd lost weight. It was validating. Because the week before I about murdered my husband.

We met up with some of his old work friends for a little tailgaiting and a game. I was feeling pretty good, my clothes fitting nicely, hadn't seen them for a while. Surely they'd notice, right?

Never assume.

We get there, say our hellos, huggy, huggy. My man trails in behind me and that's when our friends start in. Man, you have lost weight!!! Wow. You look great, dude. You've really slimmed down. I literally wanted to step back a few yards, get down low, sweep my foot out behind me and snort a few times before I ran at the group and knocked them all off of their little chairs and coolers. And then do it again. And then barrel over my husband.

It was like that. No. He's not been struggling, journaling, denying of self, weighing in, sacrificing. No, no. His wife is just doing that. He just loses weight because of it.

But I can't concentrate on it too much or my blood boils.

So instead I think on the gathering with my girlfriends last night and the multiple compliments from one of the ladies, questions on how I was doing it. And THEN, a few days ago, I saw an old friend who lives miles away who I hadn't seen for a year and she kept telling me how great I looked. How much she noticed I had lost weight. God love both of them for noticing.

With my husband's work friends, bless their hearts, but they're all kind of centered around my husband. I'm just part of the package. So honestly, I wasn't surprised that they didn't notice anything different with me. With MY friends, they're so sweet, and they noticed because they notice me.

At any rate, that's better than what the scale is telling me. And it is motivation to continue the slow, but sure progress that being intentional, holding myself accountable (with journaling) brings.

Oh, I'm Still Kickin'

I suppose after my last post it might be assumed I jumped off the wagon and into a warm vat of gooey chocolate. With caramel. Pecans, extra please... oh, and vanilla custard. Whipped cream. And a cherry.

Wha-- Huh?

I'm sorry, was I drooling?

One of those days, I guess. :)

Thanks for the sweet, supportive comments in that last post. I'm still dealing with the stress. Trying not to eat/drink it away/pill-pop it away. I sure wish I'd be one of those freak people who exercise or clean like a nut when they're stressed out, rather than turn to food. At least it's productive. I like to drink sometimes, but wouldn't want to be drunk 24/7, so that is good. The pills, I'm scared of getting addicted to, and they apparently have a decent street value because of their ability to charm.

So I'm working on walking on the sidewalk, not the curb, and definitely not right down the middle of the street waiting to get hit. There are times when I don't know how I do it, but taking it day by day helps. And then it messes you all up, too. But whatever. I'm not trying to be all pity party me, "I've got stress" woo-hoo. It is what it is. I realize the whole world out there has pains of its own. Mine are not unique. Maybe I will get into it more sometime, maybe not.

The good news is: I LOST 2 MORE POUNDS!!!

I'm not entirely sure how it happened, really, but I guess even when I'm pigging out now it isn't to the level of pigging out from a few months ago, and, for the most part I'm eating within my boundaries. It was scary there for a few days, though, because I wasn't sure if I was taking a one-way trip off the wagon or what.

My body has settled pretty well where I am. I could, technically stay here for a good year, letting my body adjust. But I think I really would rather sit at about 250-something, or below, then what I'm at right now. I don't feel like stopping just yet. I'm slow, but somewhat steady. My pace allows me some mess-ups, but not too many. Today I'm kind of taking one, and maybe tomorrow. Graduation parties, end-of-year stuff... we'll see, though. We'll see.

One thing I have to say, though, that bugs the living bagoodles out of me is that my husband is now pulling his belt a couple notches tighter. His pants are looser (looser than mine are). He has visibly lost weight, no questions about it. No waiting for people to ask, "Have you lost weight?!" No fat-blogging, calorie-counting. Nothing. This happens, literally EVERY time I am being conscious of my eating and working towards being healthier.

When I say it bugs the living bagoodles out of me, I mean you could take each one of those letters, pretend they are glass, and smash them on the ground screaming, and that might equal the frustration that I feel when this happens. And I poo-poo you not, it happens EVERY TIME. I don't know why it happens either, but it's not fair and it needs to stop.

Scared to Lose?

283

That's the number on the scale as of yesterday. I thought that's what it was last time I weighed in but apparently not. There was a little fluctuation between weigh-ins, and the mind gets foggy.

But here's the thing between me and you: I'm scared.

I don't know. When I plugged in my weight here, and changed my numbers, my tummy did a little flippyflopping. I'm pretty sure that's not normal, pretty sure I'm a freak. Most people are happy to lose weight. Goodbye fat!!! see ya later!!!!! -- But not me. I mean, I'm happy. I like to see that my sacrifices and changes are working, but I'm kind of scared to change.

I've been fat for so long. Not that I'm worried about not being fat, 'cause as I've said before -- I'll always be a "big girl" by society's standards. My goal isn't 150, or 125, it's like, 175 and that's not "skinny" in most eyes.

It's a commitment, it's a change. I'm accustomed to stuffing my face wherever I go. I'm accustomed to being fat, having a fat buffer.

It's like losing your hair, even if you hate your hair.

I can't put a finger on it. I'm trying to. Give it time. Maybe it is the commitment. If I lose this, I need to continue to work on keeping it off. Like getting a new job. If I take this new job, I can't just quit whenever I want to. I have to continue to work.

In the end, I'm not complaining. I'm interested in the changes I see in my body. They aren't wildly different. Not yet. Little things, though. Like, riding in the car and being able to rest my forearms on my legs. Normally they'd fall on my big pillow tummy, obstructing them from falling to my lap. My shirts all feel loose in the shoulders. Basically I keep my spare tire midsection, and lose my narrow shoulders and breasts. Sexy, I know. My legs, when I'm standing I can cross them farther and easier than 20 pounds ago (which is where my body adjusted recently).

You know what, though? I can't believe I'm 5 pounds away from being the lowest I have in YEARS. It is exciting and frightening at the same time.

Mochachochafattywattylatte

Something interesting to note.

A coworker was telling me about a friend of hers who stopped drinking all liquids besides water for Lent. No coffee, soda, beer, wine, juice. Just water. And guess what?

She loses weight. 10 pounds so far.

Don't worry, I'll try not to get hysterical. So as my coworker is telling me this I'm thinking in my head how I've been counting calories and exercising, refocusing, being thoughtful... and have lost, well. Less than TEN POUNDS. My eye started twitching a bit, and my smile felt like a tight rubber band, ready to snap. My throat began forming words that had no way of coming out kind.

I continued to hold my grimace, "oooh-aaahed" at the fact that this person had simply given up drinking water, and WOW!? - then blurted something about how I could not believe that people are so ignorant to consume half of their daily caloric intake in liquids and totally NOT REALIZE IT. And then I remembered that, I may be fat on the outside, but I'm probably about as nutty as a food-conscious anorexic on the inside.

I'm not a "oops, I drank 1000 calories of Mountain Dew a day" fatty. I'm an "emotional-eater, obsess-about-food, body-likes-me-plump" fatty. I actually eat healthy. Healthier than anyone else I know (and I'm bigger than them). My body/brain likes to be fat, and works to keep me there. I don't sit on the kitchen floor with 5 chickens, a liter of soda and a tray of Oreos, eat it in 5 minutes, and then cry about it.

I don't really know why I'm saying this all, besides the fact that I'm on my period and sometimes I lose my grace a bit. But come on, now.

I get the part that she said that certain things don't taste the same when you're drinking water, so you're less prone to eat them. So instead of having a soda and pizza, she'd drink water and eat less pizza. Instead of a tea at night, she'd drink water and go for a walk. I'll give her credit for that. And I'll slap her upside the head for not realizing that drinking a mochachochafattywattylatte three times daily can probably keep you in your fat pants. Duh.