I've been avoiding posting any "world's biggest loser" posts because well, I haven't really lost any weight. After three weeks of healthier eating, smaller portions, appetite suppressants, frequent runs, beach, outdoors, activities and even a freakin food diary, I have lost 2kg. How the actual hell? Seriously... WHY? My clothes have not loosened at all, 98% of my wardrobe has been completely abandoned and today I completely, utterly and indefinitely gave up.
I was on my way to the shops and thought to stop by at my doctor and although he was fully booked I convinced the receptionist that I could just "run in real quick and literally jump on his scale and run out" which is exactly what I did. Honestly, I was hoping to at least be back in the 60-something-kg wonderland of hope, but GUYS.
73kg.
Man it was awful. So completely devastating and UN-rewarding. I walked out and around the corner straight to kentucky fried failure. I sat in a corner inside with my brown paper take-away bag, sunglasses on and I just cried and cried and cried. The more I ate, the wetter my face.
Wait stop. Look, I know that I am not super duper overweight and according to my BMI I am still in the safe zone, but do you even know how this feels? I feel gross every day. I feeeeeel fat, sluggish, heavy and unattractive. I don't hop up to play with the boys, I don't feel sexy or confident or strong or healthy. And I feel completely out of control. I cannot control my appetite, my metabolism - and even after everything I tried it didn't really work. It's so demotivating. It's so... unforgivable. I just want to sleep and be in my bed and eat and eat and eat or drink wine or just make myself not feel my body.
Somewhere down this rabbit hole I feel like I've let myself go. Stopped caring as much about my appearance and more about my kids and my business. Maybe I stopped being attractive. Sexy. Maybe with my ambition I stopped being fun. I have reached the level of self loathing and am completely lost in bat country. I just want to give up.
I'm in a dark place man. I don't know how to sugar-coat this or make it socially acceptable and I'm not trying to get you to like me because right now I'm not really a big fan of myself. And I haaaate it when people say "don't be so hard on yourself... it will get better... you're not this and you're actually that and..." it just makes me feel even worse because I don't want people feeling sorry for me because I already feel sorry for me. And if you don't like yourself, then it's actually impossible to be aware that other people like or even love you. Dead hearts don't beat.
I went to the shops and instead of buying strappy, summery dresses and cute vests, I came home with cardigans and shrugs to hide my body. I cried in the dressing room when I tried on this adorable cream lace dress that pulled up to my thighs instead of my knees and wouldn't button up. Then wouldn't come off. And I just stared at myself at every three-dimensional angle and I cried again. I went home with my stupid cardigans and felt sorry for myself. Unable to subject my beautiful, happy boys to my sulky face, I grabbed the littles, dressed them in their new super hero capes and trotted back to the doctor. Mommy got an injection and two little tubes of blood have been sent off to pathology to check my thyroid and investigate a full blood count. The boys were really impressed at how brave mommy was with the needle and loved seeing the bloody specimens. They're going to scratch around in my blood for answers, and if nothing comes from that then we take it from there. WHEREVER that may be.
I really, really appreciate the abundance of emails, suggestions, messages and referrals since my initial post about my weight, I do. I know that I am not alone - thank you for wrapping your big, warm digital arms all around me. That post sky-rocketed for all the right reasons and I'm glad that we're talking about our bodies a bit more - even if it is mine. Raising Men is not here to impress and give you a smoke-and-mirrors view of an average woman's average life. This is real. I am unhappy with my body right now and I am trying to do something about it. While I appreciate the suggestions on programs, diets and meal plans I really just want to do this the honest, normal, fuss-free way. I KNOW which foods are bad for me, and which will make me gain weight. I know about sugar and carbs. I know about exercise. I don't want a quick diet that will give amazing short term results.
I want to eat the normal way. Salads, grains, fiber, nuts, fruit, the odd pasta, fish, white meat, sashimi - I want to feed my body with nutrients and water and fresh air. I want to strengthen and build muscle and not deprive myself of anything or weigh my food or write down everything I eat. The truth is, my body is getting older. I'll slowly lose my metabolism, my energy, my youth and my bounce-back. If I don't embrace this change and punch it in the face while it's still coming, then I'm not going to win here. And I sort of like winning.
I just want to be healthy. I want to jump up when my kids call me to see their new drawing and spend hours at the park and run and play and be a happy, energetic and confident mom. I want to put on a bit of red lipstick and feel sexy. I want to try on a dress and think I look beautiful.
Anyway.
This is not over. This little engine could, can and will. There will be tears, there will be frustration and disappointment and there will be more fried chicken weak moments, but I'm not giving up. 2kg down. 13 to go. I quickly snapped a few pictures. It's bad lighting, dark, it's messy, it's all thighs-in-your-face... but it's ME, and I'm a-changing.
