I used to see a very nice therapist. (imagine that me going to a therapist :P) He told me that losing weight had to become my number one goal. One of the tasks he assigned me was weighing myself everyday. It has now become a ritual I go through every morning. Visit the room of rest, dispense with clothing, hop on scale. Some folks say, not good to do, not motivating, can be unhealthily. According to my very thin therapist he said that in a study where patients weighed themselves three times a day vs. once a week the patients weighing themselves daily lost more weight. Who am I to argue with my therapist and a study?
I hopped on the scale this morning to my delight to see 304. I know you weight can fluctuate as much as 2 pounds either way every day. Holy hot pockets batman 304! Even if it was just down 2 lbs due to dehydration that still leaves me at 306, which is down from yesterday. I weighed myself four times in a row to make sure it was not a fluke and each time 304 came blinking up at me.
One of the things I discovered back in therapy that denial is not just a river in Egypt. I was in denial up to my eyeballs. Being a size 32 (perhaps bigger), weighing 350 and feeling like poop was not enough to make me realize I was fat. I know that sounds completely insane, but it is true. I didn't think I was one of "those people", you know the ones that they show on TV from the neck down when they talk about America's Weight Epidemic. I wasn't that fat yet. (Warning stupid self talk to follow) I can pull it off, I am tall enough, if I wear just big enough clothes. '
I was so big that I didn't want to admit it to myself even though it was staring me straight in the face. I couldn't look at myself in the mirror. It was just too hard to see this other person I didn't know staring at me. After all, that couldn't be me, I am not that big yet.
I guess I was not ready to break down and admit the truth. It is so funny when I think about my self talk it sounds like an addict doesn't it? "I can quit anytime I want." "I only drink on the weekends." "I am a drunk, alcoholics go to meetings." "I don't have a problem, I don't drink that much."
I had so many warning signs and flags popping up left and right but I just went right on ignoring them. (Warning more stupid self talk coming) After all you could attribute the smaller pants to the dryer shrinking them. The smaller bra was because it was cheap and worn out. I couldn't fit in the booth at the restaurant because they had crammed too much seating in one small area. The reason I am having to buy a bigger size is because the clothes run small in that store. Bad ankles are hereditary in my family, it is in my genes. I am tired all the time because it is winter and your body naturally slows down. Gastric reflux disease is hereditary I am getting this because my sister got it too.
Good God call me Cleopatra Queen of Denial! I had an excuse and a reason for everything. It was easier to laugh at it and make something up than to face the hard cold truth. I was killing myself one bite at a time.
When I finally saw myself in the cruel light of truth, cried, stopped beating myself up, asked for help, and got serious about weight loss, I started seeing results.
Rock bottom turned out to be good solid ground.
Two Days, By The Numbers - Hours spent in Philadelphia, total: 27, ish Hours spent on trains: Three Hours spent waiting for trains that were late: One Hours spent in meetings: 12 Hou...