This is not my first rodeo. Not my second or third. At 37, I honestly can't remember a time, even during my childhood, when I wasn't considered fat and I didn't have some kind of food restriction going ( not aided by my ongoing resistance).
My mom would tell you about the hundreds and thousands she has spent trying to "fix"me. Well, no shocker to read that there was never a "fix". No wraps, pills, trainers, teas, herbs, massages, etc were able to change my habits and make all my pounds just melt away and my inner skinny magically appear.
Over the years, I have successfully lost weight (10,15,30,etc) but would end up gaining it back and then some. I struggled with bulimia in my teenage years, causing an insane amount of damage not only to my GI system but also to my sense of self worth and respect. When my GI system went bonkers, I still continued to eat like I had when I purged. However, binging and not purging caused me the biggest gain in the shortest amount of time.
I also trained in a very stressful demanding field. My extremely long hours (12-18 h days) and bad habits continued making things worse and worse when it came to my weight and body. As I finished my training, my dad was diagnosed with Cancer. That made me spin out of control, from there on I do not think I have really cared or really put in a continued effort to get healthy until about a year and a half ago.
Right around my 36th birthday, I decided this would be it. That I would finally change my habits, lifestyle and stick to it for real. I was doing great, it was my first foray into blogging thinking it would be a great tool for accountability. I lost about 45 pounds before I spun out of control.
Do I have excuses as to why I lost control? yes, several. My precious dog, who I loved liked a daughter tore her ACL that summer, after 2 failed repairs and weeks of rehabbing her, she was diagnosed with hemolitic anemia. As she tried to recover from that,they found incurable cancer. I had to put her down and my heart shattered in a million pieces. A month later, my american mom as I liked to call her had emergency surgery, a very hard recovery and due to medical negligence suffered and aspiration and consequent heart arrest. She was put on life support for a week before we had to do what was best for her and let her rest. My already shattered heart shattered once again.
When I am happy, I eat. When I am sad, I eat. When I am worried, I eat. When I am excited, I eat. To celebrate, I eat. When in defeat, I eat. Do we see a pattern? I eat, eat , eat and then eat some more. Remember those 45 pounds I lost? Me too, I can see them and feel them every time I am in front of the mirror or trying to move around.
However, I am once again fed up with myself and my lack of understanding and doing what is best for me. I am so good about taking care of other, I do need to take care of myself. This time, I decided to try Weight Watchers. Why? I am not sure. I figured I needed some structure ( like counting points) but not insane and unsustainable food restrictions. So here we go....Again!