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Diariesofafatass.com

Light and Heavy

9/27/2017

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We've made it once again...Hump Day. Downhill slide....enjoy the ride.

We started a weight loss competition at work today. Actually, I really hate to think of it as a competition, but I'm super excited about it. I believe we ended up with 14 people. We all threw in $10 and will have to throw in a dollar for every pound gained. It's a really diverse group of personalities, sizes, approaches, and that makes me happy. I'm hoping we can really support one another and that we are all uber successful.  

For someone, who really has finally begun to place a lot less emphasis on the scale, I've found myself in a situation where I'm weighing in three times this week. Oh, I still weigh in every day....and I need to stop, but actual weigh-ins. There is the thing at work, the weigh-in at the place I've been at nearly a year (two weeks from today will be exactly one year), and the boot camp competition I'm doing. I know the scale isn't owning me anymore, and I hope it's just not that I've turned things around again. I hope I've finally just gotten to a comfortable place in my head about it. Case in point, I haven't pooped in a couple days (TMI? then you're reading the wrong blog), and normally that would have me frantic for a weigh-in day. Today, I really didn't care. I was also wearing a long sleeve shirt. No, not the tank top I'm usually stripped down to, but long pants and the long sleeve shirt. Another sign, it didn't own me today- I don't know exactly what I lost. I think it ended up being close to two pounds, but I can't remember the last time I didn't know it to the exact ounce. I didn't ask my last weight. I'm just going off of this terrible memory. Oh, and this....I've always been completely ashamed of the number on the scale-in 5th grade when we had to weigh-in at school, when I was skin and bones to a weight that was probably close to killing me (I mean, coupled with the stress I hold onto). Lately, I've loosened up. While still far from being happy from the number, I've actually told a couple of people my weight recently-after they've shared theirs. Those same two people stood there today, while I stood on a scale at work. And I didn't feel like I was going to vomit, or shake, or cry. Today, it was just a number. I pray this attitude continues. Oh-and I nearly forgot, I'm winning the boot camp weigh-in thing. This makes me terribly uncomfortable. I don't want to win. I want to fly under the radar. I want to get out of it, what I sought and no more. If you know me at all, you don't believe this. In my entire life, I have never not wanted to win something. It's such a weird feeling. I found out I was winning last week, just after eating half a piece of cake at 8:30 A.M. Look, I planned on this cake for two weeks. I was allowing myself to have it (co-workers birthday). It was wonderful, as I knew it would be. I was saving the other half for dessert (to have after the salad I was having for lunch-lol). Upon getting tagged in our boot camp group as winning, I knew I couldn't eat that other half of the cake. I eventually gave it away. I'm still grieving the loss of that half piece of cake. I know, it's good I didn't eat it-but at the same time, I need to get to a place where I know it's okay to have a piece of cake, that I'd planned on for two weeks. 

A friend of mine quoted me the other day on Facebook from a conversation we'd had days earlier about emotional eating. She credits our conversation with changing the way she viewed things, and turning it around. I was touched that my words had an impact, and thought I would share, in case they could help you, too. She was explaining that her diet had been poor, because she was depressed. We'd talked a little bit about what she was going through in the past week. I'm not sure what I've shared with her in terms of my own struggles, but I told her that depression beats me at nearly everything, but I won't let it defeat me in diet. I actually say it out loud: you can't take my diet from me. -This is 100% true. I usually speak to a situation or person, but I say it...and it works for me. The thing is, depression has the power to own me at times, to swallow me whole. I hate it more than anything. I can't express to you how much I hate it. I feel guilty for having it, because I know I shouldn't. I have a good life. But it gets me, and lately, out of nowhere, it has stolen my spirit. It has knocked me down and has its foot on me holding me down, only letting me up for brief periods. Thankfully, it doesn't stay really bad for too long, but the fact that it has blindsided me three times in as many weeks-frustrates the fucking shit out of me. This isn't comfortable to talk about, but some events lately, have been too big to pretend they aren't there. I had already been going through this, and late one night last week, just before going to bed, I learned someone I know (but certainly not well), took her life. It shook me hard. Suicide is always a horrible thing for any of us to hear about, but I know what it feels like to think everyone would be better off if I weren't here, or for it to be the only way to escape pain. Thank God, I always know that it will pass. I will get better. It's exhausting sometimes, but I always, always know-I will get through it. I'm writing about this-because I remember this girl "liking" this blog a time or two, back when I wrote a lot. It always sticks out to me, when people I don't know well, are reading it or have a response. I've been thinking about her, but a few times since finding out about the suicide, I've had very vivid dreams of a good friend of mine who died, really of her body breaking down from chronic prescription pain pill addiction. She could be the greatest person, and she could be a prisoner of her inner demons. In fact, I always viewed her as one of my favorite people I'd ever known. She was probably the best conversationalist I have ever encountered. Her addiction, I'm sure was tied to her inner issues and insecurities. I've thought of her death, as a form of suicide, as well.  Anyway, these two have been on my mind a lot lately, and although this is so very uncomfortable to write about- I just want you to know- if you ever get to a place of pain that you don't know you can climb out of. You can. I know you can and you will.  Please take this from someone who know what that pain feels like....and if you ever need someone to listen, I'm here.

Big sigh....I didn't know how to write any of that, but I just felt it was important. 

I'm going to CO to visit the BFF this weekend. We had tickets to see Sheryl Crow next weekend at Red Rocks, but the concerts was cancelled. Super bummer. We kept trying to figure out when I could come out instead, and there was always one reason not to do it on any given weekend. I assumed it would just fade away, and I would got next year, but she stepped in. She told me to come this weekend, and I listened an bought a ticket yesterday. I'm hoping those mountains and the lakes will do me good, as nature always does. I'm looking forward to seeing her and thankful for a friend who tells me what to do every once in a while. haha.

I hope you have a wonderful rest of the week and weekend. You know what...go see your best friend, whether down the street or across the country. You deserve it.

~Jen


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    Jen

    Age 47
    Married 24 years
    2 boys, 18 & 15
    email: diariesofafatass@gmail.com


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