Jenci S.

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Last week I was talking with a co-worker about working out.  She was trying to get me to go to the gym with her.  I told her I was walking, and trying to take my transition into working out easy.  She said, "No offense, but don't you think you've BEEN easy on yourself for the last 29 years?" 

Wow.  At the time I let it roll off my back, finished the conversation and moved on.  But all day long her comment bugged me.  I kept coming back to it.  I feel like that comment came from a woman who thinks struggling with weight is gaining a pound.  If she honestly thinks I was easy on myself she doesn't know me.  Nothing about my life before January 11, 2010 was easy.

It hurt to walk.  I lost my breath in the half block walk to my car at night after work.  I never allowed a hostess to sit me at a booth.  I couldn't shop in stores, I was too big even for Lane Bryant clothes.  I was ashamed to take my kids to the park.  Don't even get me started on going to the doctor for myself or one of my boys, that was pure torment!  And then there is almost dying during my second c-section because I was so huge the doctors were struggling to put me back together.  And who can forget my constant brain struggle.  Knowing I shouldn't have a second slice of cake, but doing it anyway.

So no, I haven't BEEN easy on myself!  One of the toughest decisions of my life was to have gastric bypass surgery, so please excuse me if I take the rest of this journey a little slow, and make decisions when I am ready to make them.  For the first time in my life my primary goal isn't to please everyone around me first, I am taking care of me.  I am deciding what is right and wrong for me. 

I have been slacking!

I have gotten used to being the size I am.  I am comfortable.  I have lost so much weight, so fast that now that it is slowing down I am ok with that!  As of today I am 195.4.  I am comfortably wearing a size 14 pants and a 12/14 sweater.  I feel good.  I have pep.  I want to get out and do things!  I enjoy walking, it is no longer a deterrant to going places and enjoying myself.  Who would have thought not driving endlessly around a parking lot looking for a closer spot could be so liberating! 
So that brings me back to slacking.  I think I am finally happy.  I am ok with who I am today.  I don't know who I'll be tomorrow, and I am ok with that.

So sorry for the silence.  I am still here, I am just a little more content to be me.  Not negative, angry, lost me, but upbeat, happy, grounded me.  Check back tomorrow, this  me might not be here!  Which reminds me of a quote "I have gone out to find myself, if I should come back before I leave please keep me here until I get back."

My life now:

My pants are size 14, and they're loose.

I can walk into any store and shop.

Men do double takes when I walk by.

People are always commenting on how great I  look.

My boys can sit on my lap because I now have a lap!

People are amazed at my decision, in both good and bad ways.

I have baby hair sprouts from my hair growing back after months of awful hair loss.

I sing in the car, at the top of my lungs, and don't care of people stare.

I feel like a professional.

My sex life is off the charts!

My wardrobe has matured (who knew purging could make such a difference!)

I can walk.  I can walk without getting winded.

My feet are shrinking.

I have "pretty" hands, not pudgy baby ones.

I have a strong jawline and visable cheek bones.

I dance around the house with my boys.

My husband, even thought he loved me before, is constantly making physical contact, he can't keep his hands off me.

My 2 year old son can wrap his arms around my legs.

I choose to eat a bite of bread, or choose to have a lick of ice cream, it is no longer a need.

Learning to make better food choices has spread into other parts of my life, I don't always just say yes to everyone.

I have learned I am just as important as anyone else.

So my pouch is disgruntled.  Crabby, grouchy, angry, all of the above.  And it is all my fault.  I haven't been eating right.  Or I haven't been eating at all.  I have had liquid poop, or have vomited.  Good fun.  So yes pouch, I know you're still there!

Ok, enough of that.  Done with the pity party.  Need to move on.

So, today I took my boys to the pumpkin patch, it was awesome!  I walked around for 2 hours, easily rode on the hay ride, carried my 2 year old on my shoulders, and a pumpkin in one arm.  Nice! 

Days like today make me feel "normal".  I can do anything anyone else can do.  I can go anywhere and be comfortable.  Life is good.  Crazy, but good.

So despite the happiness, and normalness, I am not myself.  My husband told me last night he's noticed that I am trying really hard to be myself, but my depression / stress is strong enough that I am not able to pretend.  Although I have said this before, it is time to go to the psychiatrist and get my meds checked, and then to a counselor to get my brain checked.  Long road.  LOOOOOONG road.  I need to get going on this, and I will.  Honestly, admitting things on here is the best jump start I can give myself.

Honesty not only with myself, but with the world.

I love the "new" me.  I love having people tell me I look great.  I love people telling my how beautiful I am, and then following it with, but you were always beautiful, now you have to body to go with it, or so on and so forth.  I love that I can walk into any store and buy something straight off the rack.  I love ordering food in a restraunt and leaving with a to-go box.  I also love walking into a restraunt and knowing I can sit at any table or booth without worrying about not fitting.  I love being "normal", and not the biggest person in the room.

So if I love all those things why am I starting to creep back into old habits?  Why do I find myself "grazing" as the doctor calls it?  Why do I think it is ok to eat cupcakes?  Why do I feel the need to have a Diet Pepsi when for the last 8 months I have gone without!  Why do I mindlessly eat?  Why do I just keep putting "things" in my mouth?  Why is onederland not the haven I thought it would be?  Why do I find it so easy to sabotage myself?  Why am I not walking anymore?  Why do I always "forget" to take my calcium and iron?  Why am I not worth meal planning?  Why do I feel like I am "entitled" to eat whatever I want because I have done so great thus far that I can just keep doing so great without even trying?  Why is this so hard?

So the more whys that come rushing through my brain the more I realize I need help.  Real, tangible, serious help.  It took 28 years to reach 345 pounds, and a little over a year to drop down to 198.  Needless to say, my brain has not caught up with my body.  I spent the last year breaking old habits, and then in the last three weeks I have left my will power by the way side, and gone back to those familiar, friendly old habits.  The difference is, I know what I need to do.  I know how successful I can be.  I know how to keep losing.  So the struggle continues, reaching onederland isn't the end of the road, it is the beginning of the next 30 years of my life.  I am determined to continue to grow emotionally, intellectually, and physically.  Not physically in that I want to gain my weight back, but in that I want to grow long dormant muscles, and challenge ones that have been neglected. 

Onederland isn't the end of the road, nor is it my climax.  In fact it almost seems like it is the bottom of a very steep pit, thus far I have been headed downhill, fast and effortless, now the real work begins.  Who knows if I'll ever climb all the way up this steep pit to the other side.  The grade might be slighter than I realize, and I might reach the top before I know it, nothing is for certain as I trudge forward.  One thing I do know is I have seen the view from the top of the pit and it is filled with cream puffs, and candy corn, hopefully the other side has some of those too, but is also full of plane rides, booths, skinny jeans, and protein shakes.