I awake on Sundays with a combination of dread and excitement because it’s the day that I weigh myself. Because I’ve been very unaware of what I’ve been eating this week I felt that I might not have a loss this week, but to my surprise, the scale read 215.5 today. I was about 218 last Sunday, so it’s roughly a 2.5 pound loss.
Two pounds is the minimum amount of weight I want to lose each week, so I’m perfectly happy with 2.5. As I get nearer my goal I naturally expect to hit plateaus and lose less each week, but I’m still so overweight that I don’t expect that now.
It’s finally here. I have crossed the 50 pound weight loss mark and that feels good. Total weight loss as of today is 51.5 pounds. When I saw “215.5” on the scale, however, the first thing I thought of is that I’m creeping near the 199 mark, so I can’t celebrate, I must get under 200 pounds!
I cannot recall when I last weighed as much as I do now. Possibly 10 or 12 years, maybe more. I am one of those fat people who almost never weighed themselves because it depressed me. In fact when I was weighed at the doctor’s office I often told them not to tell me what the scale read! I was really out of touch and in denial about my weight and I avoided mirrors at all costs. From here on out I will always weigh on Sundays to keep myself in check, especially once I reach my goal weight.
I’m also one of those fat people who ran from cameras or was the one always taking photos of other people. I haven’t yet begun to search for a “before” photo of myself.
I began to read my ACT book last night and feel that I will get something out of it. I have a problem where I read paragraphs but my mind is somewhere else and I can’t recall a bit of what I’ve read. It’s so annoying because I am a fast reader, but I have to re-read often two or three times using all my concentration to make sure it has sunk in. I guess I’m what you’d call a reluctant reader, or a reluctant absorber.
I wrote a short note to my husband last night telling him he had until this Friday to give me the proposal from him and his attorney and that he’s the one who has put me in this uncomfortable position so “don’t get mad at me.” To my surprise he responded with “sorry” and promised again that he’d get it to me. I absolutely HATE playing hardball with him or anyone. And when his tone became apologetic, I began to feel so sorry for him.
I’ll never know what happened to the man I love, the sometimes vulnerable and needy man, but this hard, unfeeling person took his place. I do feel love for him, or perhaps it’s just human compassion. I probably should not call it love in the husband and wife sense, since he’s done so many cruel things to me I could never take him back. But I miss who he used to be, that is, when he was a good man.
Even at the best of times he was a very complex person, but he did have his sincere moments and I like to think I knew him better than he thinks I did. He was always adamant that he knew me better than anyone, but would not give me any credit for knowing him.
Even though I mistrust him now, it wasn’t always that way. I think the more things went badly for him, the more I felt pity which I thought was love. I know at his core he’s a man who wants to be generous, who wants to be the patriarch of his family and provide for all, he wants to be well known and respected in his community. That core has gone into hiding as of late and there’s no telling if it’ll ever return. In some ways I hope it doesn’t. If he started behaving again like the man I loved, I wouldn’t know how to react. I could never say no to him.
What’s even sadder is I might be the only person who knows that side of him. It’s terrible that that vulnerable person can no longer be reached. I pray he does move away when he gets his money. It would be too hard to run into him in town. For heaven’s sake, I already have an ex-husband I try not to run into, and he was a good man until the end and we were married 18 years. This town is too small for me and two ex-husbands!
At the same time, if he goes, I’ll never know a thing about him or his daughters and that is so bizarre. I don’t know what I want. It’s out of my hands anyway.
My face is becoming drawn from the weight loss. My round chubby face no longer has some of the fat that kept me looking sort of youthful. I now have those lines from the corner of your mouth to your chin and I’m so focussed on them. If I look in a mirror that’s where my eyes go. It’s so dumb! I’ve actually entertained the idea of a facelift if I could ever afford it and I’ve always been against that stuff!
I saw Sharon Stone on the cover of Shape yesterday and she’s my age. She’s 56 and has the body of a 25 year old. She has no lines from her mouth to her chin! I know, I know, she’s photoshopped, but still, she’s gorgeous and slender.
I think more than not liking how these lines look, when I see them I feel they betray my sadness. I feel they represent the suffering of the last 10 years and I don’t want to be reminded, I just want to move on. I am fairly certain that as I continue on my weight loss, fitness, and mental health journey that I will focus less on them, especially when my life becomes more meaningful.
I also feel that the smaller I get, the better people treat me. But I am not sure if that’s actually happening or if it’s because I like myself more. I’ve said on this blog more than a few times that I was (still am?) a resentful fat person. That my outer shell did not convey who I really was and that drove me mad. I felt trapped in that body and I knew no one could see who I really was. I’m sad that I wasted so many years being fat.
Last night, while reading the ACT book, I also felt sad that I wasted so many years being highly depressed. What a waste of a life. I’m embarrassed that I’m only now taking control.
I was always oversensitive and pouty as a kid and I never really outgrew it. My first lame attempts at suicide were when I was about 15 years old. It was near that time that I began to get into my parent’s booze cupboard to take a sip from several bottles if I felt nervous about a social situation. I was already medicating myself.
I was pretty and had a nice body and I was smart and funny when I wasn’t being ridiculous, and so it wasn’t too hard for me to get the boy I wanted. My claim to fame in high school was that I dated a water polo player for six months who I still feel to this day was the handsomest boy in school. And it was a graduating class of 500+. He was the epitome of Southern California male beauty. I never felt deserving of him, however, and when we broke up due to my jealousy, I never recovered. My life began to go down hill at that time. I was 17.
I began to date (on the rebound) a man (barely) I worked with who was two years older and not very bright and I got pregnant and married two weeks after high school graduation, and two weeks after I turned 18. My daughter was born in January 1976. She’s 38 now. I have a ton of guilt with how I raised her as well. There’s just so much baggage. Everywhere I look, more baggage.
It’s best if I concentrate on the here and now or I get overwhelmed and even more depressed. I don’t want to waste time looking back and seeing where I went wrong. I want to move forward.
It looks like it will be another nice day. I am seeing blue sky out my window! I think, since the pool is still closed, I will go out and do some yard work for my dad.
Overall, I don’t care for days when the pool is closed. It makes me feel I have no purpose My life is still in limbo and I’m still trying to baby myself a bit, I’ve had a lot of reality to deal with this last year. Thank goodness I have the luxury to do that here at my parent’s home. Hopefully in the coming year, my life will becoming more full and more fulfilling.
Starting weight: 267 (mid October 2013)
Today’s weight: 215.5
Total weight loss to date: 51.5 pounds
Goal weight: about 150