As a child I was always skinny. Like underweight, doctor concerned, smallest kid in the class little. I hit puberty early at 10, period at 11 and started gaining. This happened around the same time my dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer's at 49 and my mum got seriously busy with him and my 6 year old sister. She went into a depression and I was left to my own devices.
What had been a healthy diet of home cooked meals with lots of variety turned into take out and boxed frozen fried stuff. Having not really been allowed to gorge on treats, it's all I did. I suppose it turned into a comfort thing as well. I handled my dads illness mostly with denial, food, then alcohol.
Looking back in my early teens I was a healthy weight for the first time in my life, but with little support from my (honestly very supporting and loving) family, coupled with self shame and lots of "my haven't you grown" well meaning comments, I thought I was huge! I then got into a bad three year relationship with an abusive boyfriend and ballooned. Gaining 80lbs by the time I was done highschool. He fed me telling me that if he made me fat, that no one would want me and I wouldn't cheat on him.
Dad died when I was 21, my inheritance paying for me to go to Nursing school where I came to terms with my obesity. In my 20's I tried many diets. Spent thousands on expensive shakes, Dr Bernstein starvation, but ultimately the self loathing took over. My mum started having strokes secondary to unchecked atherosclerosis and high cholesterol. I became caregiver to my future as an obese person. I had a long string of short relationships where I broke things off before they got too serious. Fast forward to 28.
I "met" my now husband in a bar where we had been going to for years and years. He and I had grown up together, been very good friends and knew everything about each other. Things moved fast, he moved in with me and we moved in with my mother who had had another stroke. I quickly got pregnant.
When I was 8 months pregnant with my first, I fell down the stairs and separated a joint in my pelvis, like breaking it, but ligaments and tendons don't heal as well.
Two babies later I was up to 230 lbs, then 250. My immobility from a bad pelvis was my excuse to do nothing, but seeing 250 on the scale was a reality check. I started weight watchers (again) and with the support of two of my sisters, lost almost 90 lbs. I had hit 162 lbs and had a breast reduction to celebrate.
After the reduction, which was my long time goal, really threw me for a loop. I had expected to look and feel skinny. Beautiful. But I didn't. Body dysmorphism. I started self sabotaging and focused so much on the last 20 lbs that I didn't see that I was already there. I was in a car accident which started my pelvic issues again and had massive mental breakdown, lost my job as a result and went up to 180 lbs. I was then experiencing full body pain and debilitating fatigue and mental fog. I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia three times by three different doctors before I would accept it.
I am now 40 years old, at my highest weight at 265lbs with a body that won't cooperate. I'm on cholesterol meds to prevent what is happening with my mother, though there is already atherosclerosis changes in my heart. I'm on the verge of blood pressure medications. I'm trying to keep my life/health together, but my bodies limitations are hampering the effort.
I'm seeing my family doctor in January to discuss a referral to the Guelph Centre for bariatric excellence in hopes that I am a good candidate for weight loss surgery. Enough is enough.