Weighing In

I've always been extremely hard on myself.  I'm a perfectionist and have very high expectations.  If I don't meet my own standards or I break some secret rule I've set then I feel terrible.  Terrible meaning my thoughts start spinning into "Why do I bother? or My mom would be so disappointed. or I'm so glad nobody knows this about me." It's a nasty cycle and I know it. 

I've talked about my anxiety in the past. I've had lots of different triggers over the years- usually tied to my unreasonable expectations.  This time has been no different, but for funsies my anxiety has decided to fixate on a new expectation- my weight. 

After the twins I struggled with losing the weight I'd gained during my hellish pregnancy.  It hung on for so long it began to affect my health and suddenly I was a type 2 diabetic.  Off to the endocrinologist I went.  During my first visit we had a brutal conversation.  Something like "Nice to meet you- you're too fat- choose between this weight loss drug or insulin- have a good day."  I left there resolutely against taking the drug.  It scared me and a part of me felt like it was cheating. I decided to join Weight Watchers since I'd been successful with it in the past. No kidding, I gained 10 pounds using their program.  Suddenly the weight loss drug didn't seem like such a bad thing.  Fast forward two months and I'd lost over 30 pounds using Qysmia.  THIRTY pounds in TWO months. For someone who has to "win" at everything this was amazing.  I began getting lots of praise and attention for my weight loss.  I couldn't go anywhere without someone commenting about it.  I never felt ashamed about my methodology.  I tried doing it with diet and (some) exercise and just couldn't.  Whenever anyone asked how I'd had such quick success I was honest.  I didn't see the point in hiding anything.

Last fall things changed for me.  My blood pressure crept higher and higher. I was having constant headaches and felt awful.  My doctor and I assumed that it was stress from having lost mama. We realized it was due to the Qysmia after I'd made some changes and it didn't resolve.  I was told to quit taking it and warned that my metabolism may slow down. Within a week I'd gained back 5 pounds. Within a month I'd gained another 10. My metabolism didn't slow down it shut down. Here we are 9 months later and I've gained back every bit I'd lost. I've started and stopped several diets and several exercise programs. Just like before the weight isn't budging.  

Along with the weight came shame. I feel like I failed. I feel like I let people down. I dread seeing friends because I don't want them to see my weight gain. I have a hard time looking people in the eye because I'm embarrassed. I hate getting dressed because I don't see the point.  It doesn't matter what I put on I'm still going to be overweight.  There's no hiding fat. 

 Social Media has been taken over by a self love revolution. I've read the blogs and articles about accepting yourself.  I follow plus size influencers in hopes their body positivity will rub off on me. So far it's not working.  I'm still ashamed of my weight, but knowing I shouldn't be forces me to take pictures with the kids. I make myself strip down to my bathing suit and swim in the river.  I keep the dates with friends. Maybe its a fake it 'til you make it thing? I'm not sure.  What I do know is I'm sick of this.  I'm sick of making food deals "If I eat this I'll walk for this long".  I'm sick of seeing pictures of myself and wanting to cry. I'm sick of reading packages and calorie counts.  I'm sick of hearing about things like macros, portion size, and intermittent fasting.  Basically I'm sick to death of thinking about food and my size. 

So I quit.  For this entire summer I'm going to eat what I want and move when I choose to. There will be no weighing- of my food or myself.  I may regret this decision in the fall, but for the good of my mental health I have to change something.  I know I'm worth more than my weight, but until I truly believe it the voice inside me will still say I'm not enough.