Beverley75
Silver Member
Dear All,
I've decided to jump in with both feet and start my own diary thread; I'll try to be consistent because I find Minimins such a useful tool on those days that the 'mind is willing but the body is weak'. I'll try not to bang on about food because that is so hard to read when you're trying to stick to SS 100%. I hope this diary is some use to others as well: maybe you can identify with some of my challenges along the way
.
So. Here I am. A self-aware woman, an adoring mother, a loving daughter, and (I reckon) an amazing friend. So what could possibly be wrong with this picture? To the outside world I'm funny, accomplished and up for a challenge so why am I here at 19 stone? But wait! Every good story starts with a 'Beginning'... I wasn't born overweight; I didn't thud into this world like a baby hippo with bingo wings and Buddha's stolen fat tummy.... so again: why? Why am I nearly EIGHT stone over weight? I had my fifteen year old son at the age of 23 and dropped the baby weight instantly ... so what happened? My ex-husband happened. Now I know that is hugely over simplified, because I've come to believe I had a tendency to be an 'Emotional Overeater' anyway so his infidelity, mental and emotional abuse and general ass-y-ness (ahem, excuse the made up word!) simply led to and reinforced a psychological calculation that has been killing me slowly ever since:
I was fit (size 10/12) despite having had a baby six weeks before + I was pretty + I did what my parents said and got a fabulous degree + I had an engaging mind + I had a loving heart but all of that equalled = being married to a man with his own serious issues that fatherhood turned into a monster of epic proportions overnight.
So my genius level brain came up with a solution that looked like this:
Eat + eat + eat = get fat: which meant be unattractive and get safe from this man QUICK.
My inner child hit on the most simplistic of solutions; I couldn't not be a mother to my little 'Sunshine', I couldn't be less smart (tried that when 'He' mocked my degree and intelligence - it didn't work. I can't not be me), I couldn't turn off my soft heart, but I could insulate myself and stop him looking my way .... I divorced that sucker with pride thirteen years ago: I need to tell my inner child the war is over.
I say all this because I was going to make this diary all airy fairy giggles for 'stranger consumption' but lets be real. No. Really: lets all be real on here; as real as it gets. You don't know me, and I don't know you. I've never been to your home, I don't know your favourite colour, nor first pets' name, but I know YOU. each and every person on here wants to live a better life, a better, healthier, whole life. Your stories are my stories. There's an old saying: 'An army marches on it's stomach' well unless soldiers break dance to the front lines, I say poo on that. This weight loss army on here marches in lock step with their friends. I won't 'Un-friend' you (stupid word) for being 20 stone, for slipping off the 'diet' train, for having a bad day, for being cross at yourself, for having a 'cheat/treat/timeout' and you won't unfriend me for being human.
A couple of weeks ago a massive change started in my thinking. You see I had: started on Lipotrim in 2007, switched to Cambridge Diet in 2008, reached goal in 2009, moved house and county in 2010 and regained all the weight lost, constantly dabbled/struggled/fought back to CD SS, got a stone from goal in 2011, had a burst ovarian cyst 2011, was diagnosed with a teratoma on my left ovary December 2011, and lost my beloved and adored Dad in 2012. Here's the realisation I had in September 2013: If not now, when? I can only be me; everyone else is taken. So which 'me' would I like to see when I look in the mirror?
Being fat (lets call a spade a spade) has cost me: my job (I'm now suffering periodic bouts of epic haemorrhaging - TMI but worth mentioning all the same - which make it impossible to continue my four hour commute to work), lost opportunities to be social, embarrassment, a man I really (and I mean reeeeeally) liked, promotions (too shy/ lacking confidence and that dynamo spirit) and years of not being the best me I could be in this world. Losing my father taught me that there are no 'do-overs', no second chances to get this one life right and no guarantees about tomorrow. I have today. This second. This moment. This shake. This cup of water. To get me to where I want to be. Life will still suck at times - but I won't be fat; there will still be battles - but I won't be fat; the recession will still make me have to ration my heating and stand slack jawed in Morrisons marvelling that the prices have had a quantum leap overnight (since when did corned beef and tuna become luxury items!!???!) - but I won't be fat. I can have my surgery - because I won't be fat. Challenge my Sunshine to a game of footy - because I won't be fat. Hop on a plane to 'sunshiny-beach-anywhere' without luggage that weighs more than the England Rugby team - because I won't be fat. Change my career and live my dreams - because I won't be fat..... you get the idea
So. 11lbs down and 106lbs to go, but I can do this; because I have to. I want to start living. I'm a recovering 'Food Addict'. Yes, I said it. And why does any addict become addicted to abusing themselves and over indulgence? Because I did. Simple as that. Yes I adore savoury food, yes I was abused by a bully in some fashion, yes, yes, yes. But I have a challenge all other addictions don't: I need to eat to stay alive. So I have to retrain my brain: food isn't pleasure, it's not comfort, it's not my friend, it's not my reward and it's not my solace. It is simply fuel to power this amazing machine I was gifted with ....
Here I go!
Bev x
I've decided to jump in with both feet and start my own diary thread; I'll try to be consistent because I find Minimins such a useful tool on those days that the 'mind is willing but the body is weak'. I'll try not to bang on about food because that is so hard to read when you're trying to stick to SS 100%. I hope this diary is some use to others as well: maybe you can identify with some of my challenges along the way
.So. Here I am. A self-aware woman, an adoring mother, a loving daughter, and (I reckon) an amazing friend. So what could possibly be wrong with this picture? To the outside world I'm funny, accomplished and up for a challenge so why am I here at 19 stone? But wait! Every good story starts with a 'Beginning'... I wasn't born overweight; I didn't thud into this world like a baby hippo with bingo wings and Buddha's stolen fat tummy.... so again: why? Why am I nearly EIGHT stone over weight? I had my fifteen year old son at the age of 23 and dropped the baby weight instantly ... so what happened? My ex-husband happened. Now I know that is hugely over simplified, because I've come to believe I had a tendency to be an 'Emotional Overeater' anyway so his infidelity, mental and emotional abuse and general ass-y-ness (ahem, excuse the made up word!) simply led to and reinforced a psychological calculation that has been killing me slowly ever since:
I was fit (size 10/12) despite having had a baby six weeks before + I was pretty + I did what my parents said and got a fabulous degree + I had an engaging mind + I had a loving heart but all of that equalled = being married to a man with his own serious issues that fatherhood turned into a monster of epic proportions overnight.
So my genius level brain came up with a solution that looked like this:
Eat + eat + eat = get fat: which meant be unattractive and get safe from this man QUICK.
My inner child hit on the most simplistic of solutions; I couldn't not be a mother to my little 'Sunshine', I couldn't be less smart (tried that when 'He' mocked my degree and intelligence - it didn't work. I can't not be me), I couldn't turn off my soft heart, but I could insulate myself and stop him looking my way .... I divorced that sucker with pride thirteen years ago: I need to tell my inner child the war is over.
I say all this because I was going to make this diary all airy fairy giggles for 'stranger consumption' but lets be real. No. Really: lets all be real on here; as real as it gets. You don't know me, and I don't know you. I've never been to your home, I don't know your favourite colour, nor first pets' name, but I know YOU. each and every person on here wants to live a better life, a better, healthier, whole life. Your stories are my stories. There's an old saying: 'An army marches on it's stomach' well unless soldiers break dance to the front lines, I say poo on that. This weight loss army on here marches in lock step with their friends. I won't 'Un-friend' you (stupid word) for being 20 stone, for slipping off the 'diet' train, for having a bad day, for being cross at yourself, for having a 'cheat/treat/timeout' and you won't unfriend me for being human.
A couple of weeks ago a massive change started in my thinking. You see I had: started on Lipotrim in 2007, switched to Cambridge Diet in 2008, reached goal in 2009, moved house and county in 2010 and regained all the weight lost, constantly dabbled/struggled/fought back to CD SS, got a stone from goal in 2011, had a burst ovarian cyst 2011, was diagnosed with a teratoma on my left ovary December 2011, and lost my beloved and adored Dad in 2012. Here's the realisation I had in September 2013: If not now, when? I can only be me; everyone else is taken
. So which 'me' would I like to see when I look in the mirror?Being fat (lets call a spade a spade) has cost me: my job (I'm now suffering periodic bouts of epic haemorrhaging - TMI but worth mentioning all the same - which make it impossible to continue my four hour commute to work), lost opportunities to be social, embarrassment, a man I really (and I mean reeeeeally) liked, promotions (too shy/ lacking confidence and that dynamo spirit) and years of not being the best me I could be in this world. Losing my father taught me that there are no 'do-overs', no second chances to get this one life right and no guarantees about tomorrow. I have today. This second. This moment. This shake. This cup of water. To get me to where I want to be. Life will still suck at times - but I won't be fat; there will still be battles - but I won't be fat; the recession will still make me have to ration my heating and stand slack jawed in Morrisons marvelling that the prices have had a quantum leap overnight (since when did corned beef and tuna become luxury items!!???!) - but I won't be fat. I can have my surgery - because I won't be fat. Challenge my Sunshine to a game of footy - because I won't be fat. Hop on a plane to 'sunshiny-beach-anywhere' without luggage that weighs more than the England Rugby team - because I won't be fat. Change my career and live my dreams - because I won't be fat..... you get the idea
So. 11lbs down and 106lbs to go, but I can do this; because I have to. I want to start living. I'm a recovering 'Food Addict'. Yes, I said it. And why does any addict become addicted to abusing themselves and over indulgence? Because I did. Simple as that. Yes I adore savoury food, yes I was abused by a bully in some fashion, yes, yes, yes. But I have a challenge all other addictions don't: I need to eat to stay alive. So I have to retrain my brain: food isn't pleasure, it's not comfort, it's not my friend, it's not my reward and it's not my solace. It is simply fuel to power this amazing machine I was gifted with ....
Here I go!
Bev x
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