Friday, June 29, 2012

Turning Stumbling Blocks into Stepping Stones


These past few days that were supposed to be my grand restart for a new, healthy life have been... well... crap. My downfall? Taco Bell Cinnabon Delights. They're cinnamon and sugar donut-type holes filled with this creamy cheesey frosting goodness that makes angels sing in the background every time I take a bite. No, seriously you guys, I eat like 12 of these a day; they're just so damn delicious. But they're SO BAD FOR YOU. In Weight Watchers points, one serving is 11 points. That means for breakfast, I eat at least 34 points worth of food; I'm only allowed 40 points a day.... Shit. All I can say is that it's a good thing these aren't served all day, because I would literally have a bag of cinnabons on hand at all times. And I'd also be 3,000,000 pounds. 


My point in telling you this, is to be honest with you, and with myself. I know I'm not going to be perfect with what I eat, or how often I exercise. I know eating 12 donuts every morning is not the way I'm going to get healthy. But I'm picking myself up right now, and I'm going to keep going. I'm not going to give up, and start again another day like I always do. I intend to fight through this till it's no longer a fight anymore. Until it's just a part of my life.

Also, here are some before pictures... ... umm... enjoy??

Notice the flip flops. They're my standard issue footwear. I can't wear shoes other than these, or tennis shoes; it just hurts too much.




Wednesday, June 27, 2012

A long post where I speak openly and honestly about my body image


My name is Jayme. I weigh 230 pounds, and I am considered to be morbidly obese. I am at a point in my life where I can stay like this forever (and likely gain MORE weight), or I can get healthy. I just… don’t want to. I love eating 3 orders of cinnabon delights every morning if I damn well please, or having french fries and large coffee drinks for lunch. I don’t like controlling what goes in my mouth, because I feel like I’m depriving myself (first world problems. I know). If I don’t get my act together soon, however, I have a more than 70% chance of getting type 2 diabetes says the doctor. I could also suffer from heart problems, knee issues, arthritis, and a whole slew of other issues. Also, if I’m being entirely honest, I’m slowly killing myself with food. Let’s say that again so it sinks in, I’m committing suicide with food. I will eventually leave my husband and my baby boy, all because I lack self-control. I know this is ridiculous, and for the the life of me, I can't tell you why I'm doing it.

There are some things I love about being fat. I love eating till every part of me is full. Feeling so full, I could just go to sleep. I love wearing loose, comfortable clothing. I love eating enormous amounts of delicious, fatty food. I love late night snacks of any candy I'm craving at the moment. I love having an entire pizza all to myself.

But, there is so much more I absolutely hate about being this obese:
-         My bones literally ache every time I get up.
-         I can’t be on my feet for more than a couple of hours before the pain is unbearable.
-         I can’t cross my legs, so I’m stuck sitting like a man; feet flat on the ground with legs spread at a comfortable distance.
-         I feel self conscious every time the subject of going out comes up.
-         I feel unworthy of my husband, family, friends and just people in general because I’m fat and that must mean I’m undeserving of their time, or love.
-         I feel ugly.
-         I spend a lot of money on clothes that fit loosely to hide my rolls, and I don’t even feel or look that cute.
-         I’m always hot, because I’d rather wear long sleeves than show off my arms. Oh how I wish I could wear a sundress in the middle of August, and just be comfortable.
-         I’m tired All.The.Damn.Time.
-         Going to any body of water that requires I wear a bathing suit, or summer-type clothing, is abhorrent to me (Keeping in mind that I used to LOVE the beach).
-         There are about 3 or 4 positions I’m comfortable doing during sex. Thus making sex kind of repetitive.
-         My boobs pull me forward, and I’m convinced I’m giving myself a hunchback.

Basically it comes down to the fact that although my life isn’t completely devoid of enjoyment, that pleasure is dampened by the fact that I feel uncomfortable with my entire body.
 “Well do something about it!” you say, and you’re right. I can bitch and complain all day long about hard it is to be huge, but nothing will change unless I say, “enough is enough” and just stop what I’m doing.

So here’s the game plan:
I signed up for Weight Watchers. I’ve tried so many plans in the past and this seems the most logical for me; control my calories, without having to say no to certain foods. Exercise! I used to play volleyball, softball, water-ski, wakeboard, and I don’t even remember what else. The point is that I used to be ACTIVE.  Not existing in a sedentary life where I live vicariously through characters of trashy romance novels. I’m 27 years old; I’ll be 28 in September. I am getting past the point where my age is my best ally. So here is what I want before I turn 30.

In two years:
-         I want to be at a comfortable healthy weight. Ideally, 125-130 pounds.
-         I want to be in the habit of exercising regularly. Maybe running… I don’t know.
-         I want a cute wardrobe that's comfortable, complements my figure, and that I’m proud to wear.
-         I want to no longer be a slave my cravings for food.
-         I want to feel happy and confident when I walk out the door every morning.
-         I want to feel flexible and strong again.
-         More than anything, I just simply want to feel at home in my own skin again.

And to help, I want to write about my struggles every day. Some of the posts may be scattered, but mostly it’ll just be a running dialogue of my journey, which I’m sure will include a lot of bitching. So we’ll see, but I have to do it. I can’t imagine anymore about how awesome I could be, and I just need to start being awesome. These past seven years have been my caterpillar phase, and now it’s time for me to become the butterfly I know I can be… I know that sounds lame, but dammit that’s just how I feel.