When I joined Weight Watchers, I weighed 273.4 pounds. According to them my maximum healthy weight is 205 pounds. Basically I have to lose about 70 pounds.
For the first six months I lost weight, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. Occasionally I'd gain a small amount, but it was all easily absorbed by the general downward trend in my weight.
Losses became harder and harder and the incremental weight loss each week became smaller and smaller. However I eventually reached an all-time low weight of 208. Only a few pounds short.
Then I plateaued. Except it wasn't so much a plateau as it was a series of moguls - ten pounds up, ten pounds down. And you know, if I had stayed that way - if I fluctuated between 5 and 15 pounds overweight for the rest of my life - that would have been OK. Except that's not how it's happened. I started gaining weight. Slowly at first, but accelerating as time goes by. I gained ten pounds before Cuba. Ten pounds during Cuba and ten pounds since Cuba. I'm currently sitting at almost 240 pounds. Basically halfway between the horror I was and the healthy weight I want to be. And I can't seem to stop it. At this rate I'll be back at 273 in about two months. Years of work will all be for naught.
On the one hand, I do want to lose the weight. For no other reason then because it's been the major goal of my life. More then university, more then a reasonably affluent job. I've wanted this since I was a child. I've cried myself to sleep and gotten sick with anxiety over it. I feel that if I can do this one simple thing then nothing would be beyond my grasp.
The corollary to that is that if I can't do this, then nothing is within my grasp. That's not a healthy thought, but It sits there in the back of my head, unbidden and unwanted.
So I do have a fierce determination to lose the weight. I feel that if I can just reconnect with whatever it was I had three years ago I can finish it off. I just with I knew what that was.
On the other hand, I know from sad experience that determination is something I cannot sustain for long. Eventually I get tired and relax. Can I sustain it long enough to lose (or rather, re-lose) 35 pounds?
I worry that there's a part of me that's afraid of losing the weight. After all, If I'm a healthy weight and I still can't achieve the things I want in life, then it must not have been the fat that was preventing it.
On the gripping hand are the toxic thoughts: It doesn't matter if you lose the weight. Your life isn't going to change. You're not going to achieve love or even regular sex. A partner is simply never going to happen so why add ten lonely years to your life-span while never being able to indulge in pleasures that are available to you. Hell even the thought of a one-night stand disgusts me right now - I can't make myself believe that someone would find my blob-like flesh attractive.
I've locked myself into a vicious circle. I wake up late, so I skip my morning run and more times then not I drive to work instead of biking/running. Getting to work late means I work late, often to seven in the evening. Working so late the time between lunch and supper is long. When I finally leave work I'm famished, so I either grab convenience food or go to a restaurant to eat. Then I'm usually up late because I can't sleep on a full stomach. I stay up late and can't get a good night's sleep, which puts me right back where I started.
On weekends I'll often get up at the crack of noon, thus screwing my sleep cycle up more.
I feel bloated (because none of my clothes fit any more, and not in the good way) and sick all the time. My motivation is shot and I'm tired. I spend all my time in front of a computer. My metabolism is downright sloth-like.
I know what the first steps are (get moving, stop and think before I put anything in my mouth, record everything) but it seems like an impossible effort with a goal that is so far away as to be impossible. Even the short term goals (40, 45, 50... pounds) seem pointless because they're less like positive thresholds and more like constant reminders of how far I've fallen.
About the only motivation I have right now is schadenfreude - there are people I haven't seen in years and I'd love to be slim just so I can think "See, I'm better then you fuckers" at them in the unlikely event that we meet again. It's not a particularly healthy thought to indulge, but right now it's about all I've got.
Fuck I need to take about six months off.
Or I can try to go to bed early and go for a run tomorrow. I wish I could remember how much I enjoy running at 6 in the morning, but the thought that comes so easily now seems impossible when I'm trying to drag myself out of bed.
For the first six months I lost weight, sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly. Occasionally I'd gain a small amount, but it was all easily absorbed by the general downward trend in my weight.
Losses became harder and harder and the incremental weight loss each week became smaller and smaller. However I eventually reached an all-time low weight of 208. Only a few pounds short.
Then I plateaued. Except it wasn't so much a plateau as it was a series of moguls - ten pounds up, ten pounds down. And you know, if I had stayed that way - if I fluctuated between 5 and 15 pounds overweight for the rest of my life - that would have been OK. Except that's not how it's happened. I started gaining weight. Slowly at first, but accelerating as time goes by. I gained ten pounds before Cuba. Ten pounds during Cuba and ten pounds since Cuba. I'm currently sitting at almost 240 pounds. Basically halfway between the horror I was and the healthy weight I want to be. And I can't seem to stop it. At this rate I'll be back at 273 in about two months. Years of work will all be for naught.
On the one hand, I do want to lose the weight. For no other reason then because it's been the major goal of my life. More then university, more then a reasonably affluent job. I've wanted this since I was a child. I've cried myself to sleep and gotten sick with anxiety over it. I feel that if I can do this one simple thing then nothing would be beyond my grasp.
The corollary to that is that if I can't do this, then nothing is within my grasp. That's not a healthy thought, but It sits there in the back of my head, unbidden and unwanted.
So I do have a fierce determination to lose the weight. I feel that if I can just reconnect with whatever it was I had three years ago I can finish it off. I just with I knew what that was.
On the other hand, I know from sad experience that determination is something I cannot sustain for long. Eventually I get tired and relax. Can I sustain it long enough to lose (or rather, re-lose) 35 pounds?
I worry that there's a part of me that's afraid of losing the weight. After all, If I'm a healthy weight and I still can't achieve the things I want in life, then it must not have been the fat that was preventing it.
On the gripping hand are the toxic thoughts: It doesn't matter if you lose the weight. Your life isn't going to change. You're not going to achieve love or even regular sex. A partner is simply never going to happen so why add ten lonely years to your life-span while never being able to indulge in pleasures that are available to you. Hell even the thought of a one-night stand disgusts me right now - I can't make myself believe that someone would find my blob-like flesh attractive.
I've locked myself into a vicious circle. I wake up late, so I skip my morning run and more times then not I drive to work instead of biking/running. Getting to work late means I work late, often to seven in the evening. Working so late the time between lunch and supper is long. When I finally leave work I'm famished, so I either grab convenience food or go to a restaurant to eat. Then I'm usually up late because I can't sleep on a full stomach. I stay up late and can't get a good night's sleep, which puts me right back where I started.
On weekends I'll often get up at the crack of noon, thus screwing my sleep cycle up more.
I feel bloated (because none of my clothes fit any more, and not in the good way) and sick all the time. My motivation is shot and I'm tired. I spend all my time in front of a computer. My metabolism is downright sloth-like.
I know what the first steps are (get moving, stop and think before I put anything in my mouth, record everything) but it seems like an impossible effort with a goal that is so far away as to be impossible. Even the short term goals (40, 45, 50... pounds) seem pointless because they're less like positive thresholds and more like constant reminders of how far I've fallen.
About the only motivation I have right now is schadenfreude - there are people I haven't seen in years and I'd love to be slim just so I can think "See, I'm better then you fuckers" at them in the unlikely event that we meet again. It's not a particularly healthy thought to indulge, but right now it's about all I've got.
Fuck I need to take about six months off.
Or I can try to go to bed early and go for a run tomorrow. I wish I could remember how much I enjoy running at 6 in the morning, but the thought that comes so easily now seems impossible when I'm trying to drag myself out of bed.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-02 04:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-02 05:07 am (UTC)Or maybe hire a personal trainer?
Just having someone willing to phone and remind you to get up and that this is what you want to do might make the difference.
hmmmmm.... I've been wanting to get up at 6 to go swimming...
maybe that will give me the motivation I need to do that... want a phone/guilt buddy?
no subject
Date: 2008-05-02 02:37 pm (UTC)Routine was critical in getting you down to 208 lbs in the first place, but routine ceases to be opportunity after a certain point. Indulging yourself or taking a break from the routine, on the other hand, never ceases to feel like one.
The next time you get up late and drive to work, I have a favour to ask you: before you drive home, take a walk up to Nose Hill. Go as far up as possible, then stop to take a good look around. Take your time. Stretch. Then walk back, maybe stopping at Safeway for fruit, vegetables, or something. If you want something hot for when you get home, make it something simple but unpackaged. (A microwave dinner isn't that much more convenient than steamed vegetables or grilled fish, unless you want it to be. And if you want that to be the case, it's no longer routine, is it?)
The next time after that, pick something up by walking to Safeway at Market Mall. Third time, do the same at North Hill. Fourth time, consider taking one of several routes down to the Bow River.
I suppose I should make it clear that these are all "for examples". Go where you want to go after work, but please go. I'm asking this because it might help to convert the excuse ("I was late.") into an opportunity ("I've never walked to x from here before.")
no subject
Date: 2008-05-02 03:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-02 03:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-02 04:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-02 11:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-02 11:42 pm (UTC)Join me up here on the wagon.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-03 12:09 am (UTC)It's also hard because my husband doesn't think like this and says I should just do it and that I can not eat certain foods, or feel the way I feel, like I can change these things like the flip of a switch. He's a psychologist and he thinks differently from anybody I've ever met.
I wish he'd join me on this journey, 'because it'd be so much easier. I've tried, but he just won't. I've inspired so many people around me and I've run out of will power and all that's left is the guilt.Right now I'm doing the best I can.