Fat, Sick and Sad

So I've been fat for a while. 12 years to be exact. I struggled with being a chubby girl but was always able to stay "just slim enough" to not be labeled fat. I always wanted to lose ten lbs. Then it became 20. Then 30. And now, today, at 38, I have 140lbs to lose. I would like to say I'm not sure how that happened, but I know how it did. It happened in 30-40lb chunks. One day I was struggling at 176, desperate to get back down to 150, and then, I was 210. And after a few years of maintaining 210, I was suddenly 250. Weight gain does happen over night for me. I am not the gain a couple pounds here and there girl. I either maintain, or pack it on faaaaast. Like supa fast. And it usually happens when something big is going on in my life. New move, quit smoking, another miscarriage, mom dies.




So, that leads me to this part. My mom just died. It's been almost 3 months. And I am swimming in a sea of grief, swallowing huge gulps of salt water as I try to catch my breath. My eyes are stinging, I'm sunburned, and sick of eating sand. I'm freaking exhausted. And this ocean is big, and there doesn't seem to be a lifeguard working anywhere nearby. And so I eat. And cry, and then have another piece of birthday cake. I've eaten more birthday cake in the last 3 months than I think I've probably eaten in my entire life. The cashiers have stopped asking "Ahh, so whose birthday?" and just ring up my cake now.


My mom died due to type one diabetes complications. She was just a teen when diagnosed, and it just pooped her body out. Amputations, constant hospitalizations, ongoing battle with staph/MRSA, neuropathy, partial blindness, quadruple bypass surgery, congestive heart failure. It was just a hard road. And oh how I wanted her to be healthy and how I nagged and nagged her to eat better, to follow her diabetes diet. And she just couldn't do it. She wasn't overweight, but she just couldn't seem to manage the balancing act of nutritious meals and the right amount of insulin. Her blood sugars went sky high and wayyyy too low. Oh it made me MAD! But here's the kicker: 9 months ago I was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. I cried, my mom cried harder, and we both vowed I would change, lose weight, do better, be healthier. And now I weigh 30lbs more than that day.


A couple of months before my mom died, I decided to think about getting Lapband surgery. I started the insurance mandated 6 months medically supervised weight loss trial. I'm four months in. I am pretty sure I am going to do it. I am also thinking about gastric bypass. I waiver between the two. But one or the other is going to happen, hopefully by the end of the year. If I could do it on my own, I would have already done it. I am not happy being obese, nor does it feel good. I am terrified of being ill, just like my mom was, and I have too much to live for. My girlie (4), my hubs, and for my mama looking down on me from Heaven.


I know surgery can't keep me from eating birthday cake. And so, I am also enrolling in grief counseling and hopefully some emotional therapy to work on why I turn to food for comfort. I know it isn't just my body that is suffering, it is my mind too. My body is just the part where it shows the most, as I waddle around, trying to fit in places that are too small for me. But it is my mind and emotions that made those seats at the theatre too small, and the jeans at regular stores too tight. It was my mind and emotions that got me this double chin and prevent me from jumping on a trampoline with my daughter.

I don't want my daughter to break into my home one day and find me slumped over, and to press her hand to my back and try and hold me, just to find I am ice cold and dead. And so, I've got to stop this way of life I've got. And get a new one. One where I nurture me, so I can love others, and LIVE.