Saturday, November 2, 2013

Hello, World

I’m a fat chick. Not chunky. Not a-little-more-to-love. Not chubby, tubby, plump, voluptuous, or heavyset. There is no nice way of putting it. I am fat. The past eighteen years have been spent yo-yoing. In 2007 I lost 80 pounds, but I've gained them back and they brought friends. I weigh 113 pounds more than I should. It’s shocking and disheartening because the blame lies solely with me, and I’m not sure why I’ve allowed this to happen.

I’ve tried every diet out there. My bookshelf is laden with books on how to eat properly (or not so properly) and lose weight. I read every website I come across on the topic. I know so much about nutrition and its effect on the body that I deserve a masters degree. I know exactly how I should eat, I just don’t know how to do it long-term. It’s very easy for me to lose 10-20 pounds; it’s very hard for me to keep it off. I lose momentum. From my stand point permanent weight loss seems like a Sisyphean feat.

Last night we ate for the first time at a highly recommended restaurant. The food turned out to be rather bad. They served me the worst pasta salad I have ever had in my whole life. It tasted like rotten socks dipped in vinegar. It was so bad that the restaurant should have closed it’s doors permanently as an apology for serving this awful concoction to its patrons. Terrible. Disgusting. Gross. Yet, I had to push it all the way across the table to keep from eating it. Because it was “food” and in front of me, I couldn’t stop eating it. Even though it was gag inducing. That is a snapshot of how bad things have gotten.

So what to do? I keep waiting for some life changing epiphany to draw me off this path, but I’ve had many epiphanies. I’ve realized they don’t change my life. I’m lucky if they change my day. I seem to keep stumbling across the same lessons over and over again without the benefit of them sticking. I can’t fathom that this is my destiny, that I’m going to continue my life thusly, yet I can’t seem to make the right choices to create another outcome. It’s a loss of control which, as a control freak, doesn’t make any sense to me.

And so we come to the point of this blog. I’ve read repeatedly that people who keep a diet journal are more likely to lose weight and keep it off. I’ve tried it in the past, but have never put much effort into it. That’s what needs to change. I have to put the effort into being successful at this. It isn’t epiphanies that will make the difference. It’s hard work.