Going back, back to 2010, reading many of the posts on my blog from when I was consistently losing weight, I am overcome by so many emotions. I feel waves of every sort of feeling: pride, wonder, anger, sadness, joy, compassion, and mourning. It is very complex, the way I feel as I read. My blog allows me to go back and re-experience how it felt to hit new lows, to feel new sensations, to stall and struggle, to succeed. I am truly so proud of myself back then... the self who decided, at 278 pounds, to get up and stick to something and DO it. The self who, when some of the weight came back on and stayed on for a solid twenty months, never gave up but kept working so hard, hoping, trying, crying in frustration but always and ever getting right back up to fight. The self who took the risk of trying something new... Medifast... and then stuck with that while battling mental demons, learning not to binge, finally understanding that it IS possible and I have it within me. And yes, even the self who regained part of *that* weight loss and has fought and struggled and REFUSED to give up and die, refused to go back to morbid obesity and slip into the old oblivion that is so much easier than this.
As I read, yes I am proud. And I mourn. It is like a death, in some ways, when I read about my 35-pound-lighter self swinging with my daughter, walking for miles, raking leaves, and going roller skating. That self was wearing size 12, size 14 clothes and *looked and felt normal.* I remember it, as faded as it sometimes becomes, I do remember it. It wasn't so long ago. Yet it feels like a lifetime that I have been trapped in this fatter body, in pain, withdrawing, going back inside my head because reality is just too hard sometimes. I let it go, and I am so sad, sometimes, for the loss. It hurts. I even get angry. I want to beat my fists on the floor as the tears run down my flushed face and scream, "how could you let it go? How could you give that up for a cookie?" Yet I did... I got tired of the plan, I thought I could do it better my own way, I stopped being as strict with my eating and when I started having pain in the spring I became sedentary... and that was the nail in the coffin of my "maintaining" anywhere near the 190's. Yeah, it makes me angry and I feel like something, someone, died... but then I realize what a GREAT GIFT it is that it is *not* a death. It is, in fact, reversible. It isn't over. I didn't gain back all, or even most, of the weight. I can get back there again, just as I got there in the first place. It takes work. It takes commitment. It takes being on plan just like I did it the first time, and it will take me extracting myself from living inside my head and putting the focus back on life and living, where it should be.
I've not discussed what difficulties, emotionally, have caused me to struggle. It doesn't matter, really, to anyone but me. You know I have a couple of kids with health issues. Two have been in what I'd call medical crisis over the past couple of months, and it has been very, very painful and distressing for me to deal with. *I am not blaming my kids. I love them very much.* It just is what it is and that is where my focus has been, and still is.
Many things are not in my control, but what I put into my mouth *is.* I am doing Medifast 100% and am hoping I will get the kind of results I got before. I understand this time what I did not fully grasp last time: that I cannot EVER go back to a high-carb way of eating... that I need to be very careful when and how I transition off Medifast back to regular foods. I *cannot* add back in fruit, potatoes, milk, cheese, corn, beans, peanuts, and grains the way I did last time, which resulted in a rapid regain and a return of cravings. I believe I am carb sensitive. I need to transition to a Paleo-style way of eating at the end of this. I will probably always have to watch my carbs very carefully in order not to regain the weight. I won't make the same mistake again.
I am leaving this place and I never want to be back here again.
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