This is a difficult blog for me to write, but it needs to be addressed. It’s a subject that I’ve not really addressed, and I don’t like talking about it, but it’s time.
My weight.
In case you haven’t noticed, I’m fat. Or full figured, chunky, extra curvy, or whatever politically correct term people are using these days. In clinical (and more uncomfortable) terms, morbidly obese.
I could spend a whole blog post documenting the reasons why I’m so heavy, but what’s the point really? It’s really not that complicated. I love food, exercise sucks. There are some underlying things about how being fat keeps me safe, and the whole sexual abuse, hiding myself from men thing, but I’m dealing with those. To be honest, those things aren’t as big of an issue anymore.
Oh, and being diagnosed with diabetes, which could possibly KILL ME is a pretty big deal too. Since I have fear of death and all.
More simply though, I’m tired of being fat. Yes, I’ve said that before, but it’s become clearer now.
I’m sick of having to go to specialty stores to buy clothes, clothes I don’t even really like. I’m sick of not being able to walk more than a mile without wanting to pass out and/or punch someone. I want to have energy to move around, to dance (I really love dancing), even to RUN.
I want to be pretty. I know that people have told me that I’m pretty now, and while I’m grateful for the compliments, I don’t really believe it. I have a pretty face, and of course my hair is FANTASTIC. The rest of my body leaves something to be desired. I want to date guys that can see the real me, and not reject me immediately because of how I look. I am smart, funny, and I mostly have my life together. But guys can’t see that, because I don’t have confidence in how I look. Yes, there are guys that are into heavier women, and I’m down with the whole fat acceptance thing. But if I don’t like how I look, then I will always be suspicious of why those guys really like me. I’m tired of being the desperate fat chick that guys will only just sleep with. I’m tired of sleeping with guys like that because I need some kind of attention. I’m better than that.
So, what am I doing about it? Not a lot really. When I was diagnosed with diabetes last April, I went all out, started walking a lot, and seeing a nutritionist. While I’m still walking, I’m not really controlling my eating as much as I should. I love food. I LOOOOVE carbs and I’m especially obsessed with chicken nuggets and ramen noodles. I am not eating late at night, and I rarely eat sweets at all. I’ve lost thirty pounds so far, and it’s kind of just stayed there.
An option that has been on the table for a long time is weight loss surgery. It’s not really something that I’ve seriously considered, because of the health risks (death!), and people can see it as an easy way out, a cure. I know that it’s not, and it can’t be seen that way. But let’s face it, I need help. I’m more than 200 pounds over my suggested weight, and while I don’t want to get down to that weight,
I really think that losing 100 pounds or more would help me.
So, I’ve been thinking about having the Lap Band procedure done. It’s less evasive than a typical gastric bypass, and it allows for a gradual weight loss. It is expensive, and my insurance will cover ninety percent of it after I have documented at least six months of serious weight loss under a doctor’s care. I’m planning on joining a gym (no, seriously), so that I can take a water aerobics class. Water aerobics is a great way for people of my size to start exercising, because it’s not as excruciating on our bodies. At some point, I’d like to get a trainer. I need to cut drastically the amount of carbs from my life, which is a daunting task. I’m not sure how I can live in a world where chicken nuggets(damn you Wendy’s!) are not a part of it, but it can be done. And it has to be done, on a budget, because I’m not rich.
So, that’s where I am. I’ve done a lot of thinking about it, and it’s not something that’s going to happen overnight. And I’m not really asking for your support/help, but if you want to help keep me motivated, I’d be grateful. At the end of the day, the only one who can motivate me is me. I’m one of the laziest people EVER, but I know when enough is enough.
Diabetes runs in my family, and I’m scared. My grandmother died from it, my uncle died from it, my mother WILL die from it, and I don’t want to die from it (I actually don’t want to die at all really, but that’s another subject for another day). I have sleep apnea, and sleeping with a C-Pap machine is uncomfortable as hell.
To be honest, it’s just TIME. I know that I joke a lot about my weight, but it’s no joke. I look at myself in the mirror, and I see just a blob of fat and stretch marks, and, to use a cliché, I see a smaller girl in there, waiting to get out.
It’s time to let her out.
