Week 5 Write Off: Open Topic
I was always "the skinny girl". Even at nine months pregnant I never went over 120 pounds. And I lost the baby weight immediately. So immediately that I actually wore normal clothes home from the hospital. So of course I got all of the jokes from my friends and how jealous they were that I lost the weight so easily.
In school I was picked on from being skinny. Everyone called me toothpick. And even my home ec teacher made a comment about "hating" me as we were measuring ourselves for our sewing project. I was accused of anorexia, bulimia, all of it. Truth was, I ate like a horse. I just didn't gain weight.
At work the others were constantly asking me how many hours a day I exercised and what diet I used. I didn't. I'm the girl who flunked gym class. No way was I working out. I just had a fast metabolism.
My mom kept telling me that after babies I'd gain weight. I didn't. That after I turned 30 I'd start to gain weight. I didn't. And I was completely comfortable in my skin. I posed for nude photos and got the enormous compliment of being included in one of Scott Church's books. I was confident. But not stuck up about it. It was just the way I was built.
Then several years ago I was put on an antidepressant called Remeron. Within just a couple of weeks I started putting on weight. I was wearing my husband's jeans because I couldn't button mine. It took me three months to get the doctor to take me off of that med. And in that time I went from 135 pounds to 160 pounds. I bought a treadmill. I dieted. Then my husband and I split up and with all of the stress I was under, the weight melted away. I could wear my favorite clothes again.
Eventually though I gained weight back. The constantly changing cocktail of medication for anxiety and depression had my weight on a roller coaster. And I tried every weight loss supplement and diet that came out. I'd lose a little and gain more back.
A few years ago I decided enough was enough. I refused to buy bigger clothes when mine stopped fitting. I joined a gym. And I went every single day. I altered my diet and started counting calories. And I got within ten pounds of my goal weight. And then I started having "female issues". (I'll spare you the TMI) My weight started to go up again no matter what I did. After an extremely embarrassing event at Hobby Lobby I made a doctors appointment. The doctor told me then that I was about 30 pounds overweight for my size. I told I knew that and that I had been working out and dieting. He told me to keep it up and made some other suggestions.
In August of 2015 I had a hysterectomy to put an end to those horrible lady issues and I had hopes that would also help with my weight loss. It made it worse. I've gained more weight. Another 43 pounds in a year.
I have two pairs of jeans that fit. One pair has an elastic waist so I pretty much live in them. I tried leggings but felt way too self conscious in them. When I'm in pictures now, I try to be at the back. Or just a head and shoulders shot.
I know some of you are reading this and thinking I don't know what being overweight really is. So you need to remember that this is my story and I'm not judging with anyone or competing with anyone. I am 78 pounds overweight. And I just can't lose it. I went back on ADD meds specifically to try and lose the weight because they kill my appetite. I lost three pounds.
I hate the way I look. A man at the store let me go in front of him because he thought I was pregnant. All of the weight is in my stomach. I do look pregnant.
I am so uncomfortable with how I look that I've only had sex once in the last 9 months. I don't want anyone seeing me naked. I avoid seeing myself naked. I wear the baggiest clothes I can find. I'm not comfortable in my own skin any more.
I've joined a gym again. I just need to start going. I need to try to curb the night time snacking. But Ambien gives me munchies worse than smoking pot ever did. I get up and eat without even knowing it. I don't eat a lot of sweets. I stopped eating meat awhile back hoping that would drop some of the weight. Nope. No change.
In a few weeks I go in for a colonoscopy and an egd. Hoping to find a reason for the weight gain and all of the bloating. My doctor thinks I may have internal bleeding somewhere and they're hoping to find that too if there is. I hope they do find what is going on. I'm bloated, I run out of breath doing even the smallest things, I weigh entirely too much, and I am miserable.
Everyone has their own definition of fat and I am living with mine. And if one more person tells me that I "carry the extra weight well" I may just go postal. No, I don't carry it well. I'm not blind.
I'm not the skinny girl any more. And every time I see someone who knew me when I was, I want to hide. I want to hide from myself.
But this is it. This is holding me back from things I enjoy. It's making me more depressed. It's keeping me from having any intimate relations because even in the dark that bloated stomach is still there. I have to find my way through this so I can go back to being ME again instead of being the numbers on the scale.
In school I was picked on from being skinny. Everyone called me toothpick. And even my home ec teacher made a comment about "hating" me as we were measuring ourselves for our sewing project. I was accused of anorexia, bulimia, all of it. Truth was, I ate like a horse. I just didn't gain weight.
At work the others were constantly asking me how many hours a day I exercised and what diet I used. I didn't. I'm the girl who flunked gym class. No way was I working out. I just had a fast metabolism.
My mom kept telling me that after babies I'd gain weight. I didn't. That after I turned 30 I'd start to gain weight. I didn't. And I was completely comfortable in my skin. I posed for nude photos and got the enormous compliment of being included in one of Scott Church's books. I was confident. But not stuck up about it. It was just the way I was built.
Then several years ago I was put on an antidepressant called Remeron. Within just a couple of weeks I started putting on weight. I was wearing my husband's jeans because I couldn't button mine. It took me three months to get the doctor to take me off of that med. And in that time I went from 135 pounds to 160 pounds. I bought a treadmill. I dieted. Then my husband and I split up and with all of the stress I was under, the weight melted away. I could wear my favorite clothes again.
Eventually though I gained weight back. The constantly changing cocktail of medication for anxiety and depression had my weight on a roller coaster. And I tried every weight loss supplement and diet that came out. I'd lose a little and gain more back.
A few years ago I decided enough was enough. I refused to buy bigger clothes when mine stopped fitting. I joined a gym. And I went every single day. I altered my diet and started counting calories. And I got within ten pounds of my goal weight. And then I started having "female issues". (I'll spare you the TMI) My weight started to go up again no matter what I did. After an extremely embarrassing event at Hobby Lobby I made a doctors appointment. The doctor told me then that I was about 30 pounds overweight for my size. I told I knew that and that I had been working out and dieting. He told me to keep it up and made some other suggestions.
In August of 2015 I had a hysterectomy to put an end to those horrible lady issues and I had hopes that would also help with my weight loss. It made it worse. I've gained more weight. Another 43 pounds in a year.
I have two pairs of jeans that fit. One pair has an elastic waist so I pretty much live in them. I tried leggings but felt way too self conscious in them. When I'm in pictures now, I try to be at the back. Or just a head and shoulders shot.
I know some of you are reading this and thinking I don't know what being overweight really is. So you need to remember that this is my story and I'm not judging with anyone or competing with anyone. I am 78 pounds overweight. And I just can't lose it. I went back on ADD meds specifically to try and lose the weight because they kill my appetite. I lost three pounds.
I hate the way I look. A man at the store let me go in front of him because he thought I was pregnant. All of the weight is in my stomach. I do look pregnant.
I am so uncomfortable with how I look that I've only had sex once in the last 9 months. I don't want anyone seeing me naked. I avoid seeing myself naked. I wear the baggiest clothes I can find. I'm not comfortable in my own skin any more.
I've joined a gym again. I just need to start going. I need to try to curb the night time snacking. But Ambien gives me munchies worse than smoking pot ever did. I get up and eat without even knowing it. I don't eat a lot of sweets. I stopped eating meat awhile back hoping that would drop some of the weight. Nope. No change.
In a few weeks I go in for a colonoscopy and an egd. Hoping to find a reason for the weight gain and all of the bloating. My doctor thinks I may have internal bleeding somewhere and they're hoping to find that too if there is. I hope they do find what is going on. I'm bloated, I run out of breath doing even the smallest things, I weigh entirely too much, and I am miserable.
Everyone has their own definition of fat and I am living with mine. And if one more person tells me that I "carry the extra weight well" I may just go postal. No, I don't carry it well. I'm not blind.
I'm not the skinny girl any more. And every time I see someone who knew me when I was, I want to hide. I want to hide from myself.
But this is it. This is holding me back from things I enjoy. It's making me more depressed. It's keeping me from having any intimate relations because even in the dark that bloated stomach is still there. I have to find my way through this so I can go back to being ME again instead of being the numbers on the scale.