As I write this, I am staring at a picture of myself that I took just this morning. Fresh out of the shower and naked. Boy, have I been lying to myself. Drooping breasts meet the first of two rolls on my stomach forming some sort of grotesque Muppet eyes and a smile. Following it downward, I can’t see between my legs. A tuft of hair is swallowed by two gigantic thighs. Turning to the side so I could judge my rear end, it just gets worse. I am amazed that I was able to squeeze into an airplane seat this past weekend. The buckle barely fit. I am also astounded that I haven’t knocked over more small children when I suddenly turn around.
Size 22 jeans don’t fit anymore. In fact, none of my clothes do. As I stood there waiting for the timer to expire on my camera, I thought how horrible it would be to have to go buy, bigger clothes. The thought makes me sick to my stomach.
I am fat. I am gigantic. I am the heaviest I have ever been. I am scared. I am fed up. I am angry with myself. I wanted to type the word, “depressed” there for just a moment, but it’s not depression anymore. I have been making excuses for myself for far too long and it’s time that they fucking stop.
I’ve attempted weight loss before and have been successful, but I usually stop as soon as progress is made. It is a hangup I can’t quite seem to understand. My first week of Weight Watchers yielded a seven pound loss. Seven pounds! I gave up the next week, perhaps thinking I was Supergirl and I could see those results without really trying. As with any yo yo diet, I go down and then get even heavier than I was to start with. Four years ago, I was hovering around 285.
My weight today is 320 lbs. You may throw up now in disgust. I already have.
So what’s the plan? I’m going to treat this like any 12 step program. Today I have truly admitted that I have a problem. I have rejoined Weight Watchers. I am planning out my meals for the week. I have rid the house of anything tempting. I am going to the gym tonight and tomorrow night and the next.
I have always been able to fight for things that I believe in. It’s high time that I starting believing in myself.