I am not even sure where to start. This is my first blog post. Although I have threatened to blog of my travels around the world, once I am traveling that false promise falls to the bottom of my priority list. This is my "FAT Blog."
As my profile states, I was once a very thin girl. All the girls in my high school always commented on how skinny I was. I was 5'6 1/2" and weighed about 110 lbs. It doesn't sound terribly thin but considering I was large busted and each of my melons probably weighed a couple of lbs on their own, I was thin. I think that added to my skinny appearance. I looked like a 2x8 with boobs.
I am now 45 years old, still the same height, more or less but I weigh significantly more than I did in my teens. I am not even going to state my current weight at this point. I will say that I need to lose 50+ lbs.
I am not sure exactly when I started considering myself fat. I still know I was still healthy and attractive in my mid thirties. Somewhere over the last 10 years I have put on more and more weight with the majority of it ending up on my frame over the past 5 years. I kept telling myself I just had a "large frame" and that I "carried my weight well."
In the past 4 years I have suffered 4 major deaths of friends and family members. Because of these losses I have become depressed and unmotivated. I am an emotional eater and drinker but then feel even worse after eating poorly and drinking too much alcohol. It seemed to be an endless cycle that had me caught up in a downward spiral. The recent terminal illness and then death of my mom really threw me a curve ball and I was eating and drinking even moreso that before.
My clothing has gotten bigger and baggier. My shirts and jackets have become longer to cover up my ass. I have been fooling myself into thinking that if I conceal my body, people won't notice I am fat, after all, I still feel like a thin person inside! I think one thing that cured me of my delusion of not being overweight was when some a-hole punk downtown ran smack dab into me as I was walking down the street. I asked him to be careful and he called me a fat bitch. Yeah, it was beginning to sink in that no amount of clothing was going to hide the fact that food had become what I turned to for comfort.
Now I am facing the bitter and somewhat hard to swallow fact; I am obese. My Body Mass Index is 35.3. It should be between 18-24, according to my height.
Being fat has changed my life in so many ways. I used to look forward to spending weeks dressed in skimpy summer clothes and bathing suits in the Caribbean, Mexico or other sunny destinations. I began planning my trips to places that I would not have to be seen in anything that showed my weight gain. I used to choose active vacations and now I dread the thought of trying to climb a volcano in Nicaragua or go sand surfing in the Sahara. If the destination involves any sort of strenuous activity I cross it off my list.
Well, I need to change my BMI and I know I am not going to get any taller. The only choice I have if I want a better and longer life is to lose this weight. I need to learn how to be comfortable in my own skin again. My only real solution is eat better, exercise more and gain my health back. On the long road to recovery...
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