"Cake no longer just calls your name, it full on smacks you in the face"

This is what my new psychiatrist told me when I met with her today as we were discussing my lack of a hunger gauge and how I realize when I have the shakes and getting a headache that I haven't eaten all day. I smiled when she said it but inside I was full on laughing. Yes, she nailed it on the head and that is the truth of it...a cookie called my name being the title of my blog--well because for me while in a healthy meaning way it was a cookie that became my "drug" of choice.

 Back in 2000 I had just come home from my mission to So. Korea. I was SKINNY. Too Skinny actually hitting between a size 4-6 which on my body frame is not healthy. Ideally my perfect size is at an 8. a loose 8. Which is my goal. I had been unhealthy most of my mission. and completely limited on what foods to eat--in fact there was food for fuel and a treat maybe once a week...that was it. and it was perfect. Perhaps unrealistic to live that way with a family, but when you are just you and one other person and you're on your own for food choices (No I will not eat KimChi for breakfast...or dinner food. I just couldn't wrap my mind around that) I'd have cereal and eggs and some fruit most mornings. A good healthy choice. I knew if I didn't have some protein in there I'd be starving before lunch. Lunch and dinner were often with contacts or members of our church. The korean people love food and they love to share their food and they also assume that if you are american you are fat and need to eat lots and lots and lots of food and that we are fat because of all the milk we drink. (there may be some truth to that if you take milk in all its forms...and replacement forms)  I also walked miles and miles every day. We rode the bus, and we walked. We'd walk from one end of the city to another tracting or making it to appointments. and it was great. I loved it.
Coming back to the United States, I remember getting off the airplane in San Fransico and thinking holy crap! American's really are fat. And lets face it. We are.
I swore I would NEVER let that happen to me. I'd always worried about my weight. I was a bit curvy I carried the extra freshman 15. but the next year it was all gone. I thought I was fat. I grew up thinking how fat I was and I was just going to get more fat.
Some guys I hung out with in High School ignorantly talked about how they always wanted to meet a girls mom to see her FP. Fat Potential. If the momma was a big gal, don't date her. If you marry her you'll have a fat wife.
I thought it was judgmental and rude...and inside I was afraid. I thought. My mom is fat. (barely, and she had 13 children) My dad is fat. I'm doomed. (he was also barely overweight...not morbidly obese)
Back to coming home from my mission--that year was a wonderful year of adjusting to life. I thought I could conquer the world. I took 21 credits worked 3 jobs. and pushed my body beyond the limits I should have.
I have suffered from depression off and on throughout my life. as 2001 came into full swing my depression was heavy. I found myself planning ways to die where it would look like a freak accident, like driving through a light as a semi is coming down a hill and has no way to stop. The thought of how traumatized that semi driver would be is what stopped me. That and a phone call to my dad. He asked me what makes me happy. I said nothing. (when you have clinical depression and you are in full swing nothing does) he said, okay what is something you enjoy. And I thought of a cookie. A soft sugar cookie that a local bakery sold. Something about that cookie was special. He told me go get the cookie. It will break this downward spiral, doing one positive thing will help break the spiral.
He was right.
I couldn't finish the cookie, but that wasn't the point. (although it is the point now) I found myself about once a week going for a cookie just to break the spiral. and I went and got on some meds. That was also a big help and so was group therapy I did that summer. Hard, brutal, raw and honest. It helped.
the problem is that I didn't stop to see that the cookie didn't have to be a cookie. it could be anything, a game of tennis, a walk in the park, petting a friendly dog (petting unfriendly dogs tends to not make moods better) nailing jello to a tree...I'm kidding but thinking about nailing jello to a tree come on, that makes you smile...
When I lost my first baby it was a pan of lemon bars. I ate the whole pan. I felt so sick and miserable, I forced myself to keep eating it. Why? at the time I didn't analyze it. I think I just wanted to shove all that pain and sorrow I was filling back down inside of me. I even made a new pan and ate the couple of pieces that were missing that morning so Korey wouldn't know. And then I told him what I had done, making it even sillier I had done that--but shows the mindset I was at. Guilt and shame.
I didn't often go on a binge like that which is perhaps why it stands out so clearly to me.
But I learned to turn to food for a sick kind of comfort.
After I had my sweet Jilly, I worked hard and lost a lot of weight. I went from 213 down to 185. down to 176. down to 164. I was within 30 pounds of my goal weight. and I lost another baby.
My weight spiraled back up and has yo yo-ed since then.
So in the brutal honesty I am looking at myself with I now share where I am today.
I had a doctors appointment yesterday where I was weighed...and one again today. 252. I'm a line backer. I'm two people. If I were a 6'4 man I'd be in great shape. but I'm not. I'm 5'6. I should weigh 135. That is a healthy comfortable weight for my frame. I have to lose a person.
daunting yes. impossible? no.
I also found out that while my cholesterol is great and my blood pressure always shocks the nurses who take it because being as fat as I am they expect it to be high...my labs came back showing that I am pre-diabetic. I'm not diabetic now, but to stop it from happening, there need to be some big changes, and they need to happen now.
I've been making baby steps. I've been emotionally and mentally preparing myself for this big push. and the time has come. So holding nothing back, here are my pics.

Am I embarrassed? Yes.

Do I need to make changes? Yes

So If I'm embarrassed why post the pictures?

I can record my journey without them.

 But I need to be honest. Completely honest. and stop hiding because I have surpassed my FP. I haven't had 13 kids. I've had one. I've lost 2.
Am I obese? yes. I'm not just fat, I'm obese. In fact some godawful person named it morbidly obese. How is that helpful to anyone? But there it is.
Does this define who I am? No. It is something I am dealing with. I cannot change the past. I do need to work to understand it. So that going forward is a positive trajectory.
For now, I'm working with my therapist, my psychiatrist, my pcm (family doc with military acronyms) and next week I meet with a dietician and go into the bod pod. I'll post pics and results of that. Its May 10. So watch for that.
When I first went in the nurse took my stats. my weight, my blood pressure which was 123/95 (yesterday at two different appointments it was 139/75 and 99/95) she then asked me when my last pap was. Yesterday. My last eye exam? Last week. My last dental check up? January. She said "boy you're on top of things!" I said that my health is now one of the top priorities in my life. and it is. I'm putting it on the front burner. Where I can watch it and take care of it. Baby steps to a healthier me.
My goal? to be at my target weight of 135 by my birthday next year when I turn 35 years old. 135 for 35!

I started taking Metformin today. 500mg which is the low dose. Its a drug used to help regulate insulin. I've got the extended release which will hopefully ease side effects.








at any rate Leo is excited for the changes I'm making. :)