Wednesday, July 03, 2013
As I sit down and write the first entry of this blog, I barely know where to begin. I've been trying to remember when I started changing, when I started to become this person that I no longer recognize in the mirror.
I know that I big part of what goes on inside my head is remembering the past. I remember the person I used to be... how I felt beautiful inside and out. I was courageous, strong, driven, sexy and felt good about who I was. I remember that I could simply look at a guy I found attractive and chances are that was enough to get his attention. I remember walking into a job interview for one of the top advertising agencies in the world and within 20 minutes I had the job. I would be invited to dinners, parties and any night of the week I'd have something exciting to do with friends if I wanted. I laughed a lot, told stories of great adventures and threw amazing, quaint dinner parties for friends. The main thing is that I felt alive.
That wasn't so long ago... six years maybe. Yes, six years is about the time I started changing.
I think it was a heartbreak that sort of got the ball rolling slowly downhill. I fell in love and although we had an amazing chemistry, were incredibly alike, had immense passion and got along well, he chose to return to someone he dated before me. She was nothing like me, but she did make a heck of a lot of money. I didn't lose myself after the breakup through. I did what I always did and remained strong... determined to pull through and come out a better person because of it. In fact, I went on to land an awesome job, a new car and things definitely seemed to be looking up. But I threw myself into work and realize now that I hid away my pain by keeping so busy I didn't have time to heal. Instead, I had a hand full of bad relationships after that only added to my ever building insecurities.
There's much more to this story... so much more, but I want to say where I'm at now because it's relevant and important.
In six years I have gone from 119 pounds to 204 pounds. For every extra pound, I carry a world of fear, insecurities and lack of confidence to do anything. Deep inside I know I must still exist in this body somewhere... the real me. But I am hidden behind layers and layers of fat and a person that looks sad, angry, insecure and tired. Needless to say, it's no way to live. I know this and have known this for a very long time. Looking back, I see that my life in the past six years has been a serious of excuses for why I am not working out, why I don't go out, why I don't date, why I don't go swimming or dress up, or have friends or eat healthy. And yes, my heart is probably incredibly fearful of getting hurt again. Yes, I've probably put on and kept this weight on to protect myself from ever having to get hurt again. But really the only person I'm hurting is myself, because I feel more alone than I ever have.
So this is today. Did I work out? No. Did I eat healthy? Not especially.
But like an alcoholic trying to confront their own fears and reality of having a drinking problem... this is my way of acknowledging that yes, I am overweight. No one is blame to blame for where I'm at now except me. Do I want to change my weight and get off my ass and do something about it? Heck yeah I do. But the very thought of what's next terrifies me.
Maybe tomorrow will be different...