Hi. I need to let some things off my chest today apparently. So, about a week or so ago I decided that I’ve had enough of dieting. I’m done. I asked my boyfriend to hide my scale and vowed to stop obsessing over the stupid fucking number that would dictate how I was going to feel for the rest of the day. I’ve decided that I’m not going to be a slave to calorie counting or sugar content, or any other diets that robbed my of my sanity or my love for food. I want to love myself. To accept myself. To stop this stupid obsession that has gotten me absolutely nowhere. The only thing that dieting has accomplished was lost time, depression, anger, frustration, self loathing, self hatred and denying myself happiness. Why did I spend 26 fucking years of my life letting my weight ruin my life? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY? I am so angry with myself right now. I want to be happy. I now know that I have never been happy because I let that bitch (the scale) dictate everything that happened in my life. I’m done.
I’ve been on diet since I was probably 8 years old. I am 34 now. Some of my earliest memories where of me comparing myself to other kids my age. I for some reason thought that I was chunkier than them. But when I look back at pictures of me, I was just an average size kid. I WAS NOT CHUNKY. Why did my brain tell me otherwise? What the fuck was wrong with me? Anyways, that is what set off my obsession with losing weight and being skinny. I always believed that I lost weight I would be happier and people would like me more. This thinking is exactly what made me fat. And over the years I started hating myself more and more. I tried everything to lose weight. Every diet. Every drug, including prescription, over the counter and herbal supplements. In my teens I started starving myself and binging and purging. I even used to chew and spit. That went on for a few years into my early 20’s. I’m glad I stopped that. I would lose some weight but then gain it all back and became super defeated with everything I tried. Then in 2010, the worst thing that could have ever happened to me happened. I actually succeeded in losing weight! Yes, that was the worst thing that could have ever happened to me. I discovered the HCG diet. I still today love the HCG diet. It has literally been the only thing that has ever successfully helped me lose weight and keep it off. I went from 181 pounds (not my heaviest weight) and got down to the lowest weight I had ever become while on my weight loss journey, which was 138. I was so unbelievable happy! For a little while anyways. This incredible weight loss was like smoking crack or doing heroine for the first time. I’ve never actually done either of those but this is how I imaging the comparison. That number 138 is something that I will never forget. It was a high. It was what I strived for every time I wanted to lose weight. I just wanted to feel that high of the number 138 again and to stay there forever. But it would never happen. I kept trying and failing. I eventually settled into a comfortable 150 and stayed there for a few years but little by little the scale began to creep back up. I was getting my BA in film, right after a messy break-up with my boyfriend, being on my own and again being a single mom. All of a sudden during a 9 month period (my senior year of college) I gained 50 pounds! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??? I graduated at 200 pounds. It messed me up good. How does that even happen? Well it did.
I say it’s the worst thing that happened because I got to taste the skinny life. Believe it or not, people treat you differently when you are skinny. People notice you more. And not to mention the fact that everyone tells you how great you look after losing all the weight. For the first time I could buy clothes and I loved how I looked in them. I felt comfortable in my skin (sort of). I say sort of because still, somewhere in the back of my mind I was still a fat girl. I knew I looked different but most of the time I still felt fat. It’s weird and hard to explain. My mind hadn’t caught up with my body and it never actually did. So, after I gained back all that weight, I look back at pictures of me and it makes me want to cry. I was so skinny! Like almost anorexic. Even though I was at 150, I looked like I was 120. I don’t know why but that’s what happened. People who I thought were smaller than me would tell me how “tiny” I was. Obviously, they don’t say that now. So, now, that’s all I want… to be that skinny again.
But lately I’ve come to the realization that that will probably never happen again. I should be thankful that I at least got to experience what it was like to be thin. I’ve realized that I have some kind of mental affliction that causes me to obsess over weight loss and being 138 again. Oh, wait… it’s called being an American. It’s disgusting really. Our society shoves this notion down our throats that being thin is what will bring you happiness and make you healthy. That you are fat because the number on the scale says you are. That you must pay for these pills, and these diet foods, and these workout programs to achieve weight loss. It is fucking everywhere. It’s disgusting and I’m tired of it. I haven’t weighed myself and I feel free. I worry though that I am gaining a bunch of weight. I wish I could stop that. It is defeating my self love and acceptance.
Okay, now I feel a little bit better. I guess I just needed to write and get it off my chest a bit. I’m going to continue with intuitive eating. To push out those negative thoughts in my head. I love you self. Because it’s just you and me. Or just me really. I’m sorry I abused you for so long. I’m really, really sorry. I will never do it again. I love myself.