My senior year of high school I weighed 225 pounds and was a size 20. I refused to wear a 20 though...I would squeeze myself into an 18 and have trouble breathing because of it.
I was actually quite athletic as a child. I biked everyday and I practiced Karate. Though I did eat very unhealthily back then as well. So when I was a kid, there was a nice mix of muscle and fat, which translated to me being thicker.
However, when I gave up on Karate, my muscles were slowly replaced by fat and I just grew and grew and grew. Mainly because I really did not eat well, and I only continued to eat worse and worse. As a matter of fact, I became addicted to food. I would eat, even when I wasn't hungry. I would gather joy and relaxation with just the act of eating. Much like people become addicted to the act of smoking, so was the same with me and my eating habits. I would crave eating...for the act of chewing and swallowing...for the taste that would thrill me...for the need to consume food. I had become a chronic liar and hid my obsessive and addictive eating by replacing anything that I overate so that my mother would never know; and she never did...I never realized how bad this was until I looked in the mirror and saw what I had done to myself.
My eating disorder didn't end there, I was also an emotional eater, like most women are. And there were many reasons for me to dunk food down my throat...from an abusive father to being who was embarrassed to have me as a child and being terrorized (not just bullied) at school. I was told by nearly everyone in my life how worthless I was and how I will never be loved because I am too fat and ugly to ever be cared about. I slipped into depression so deep that I had no desire to ever leave my room. And I didn't...until I had to...like having to go to school...otherwise, I stayed in my room. I began to develop online relationships with people...people who couldn't see me...I could be myself and be cared for because they couldn't see how fat and ugly I was.
I had already been low enough to want to kill myself, and to be honest, I was that low again. But after attempting suicide, I realized that I could never do that again. There is so much pain in the act of suicide and that is what you are trying to escape. I just decided to hide and be alone so no one could ever hurt me.
The other sad thing about this time was that I was the one that everyone turned to on a bad day, I was the one that had to be strong for everyone else. There was no one in my life that ever cared enough to listen to what I was going through. I had to put a smile on my face everyday and had to act like everything was alright. Even to this day I have trouble ever letting anyone know I am upset about something, because I am the strong one...I am the one that is supposed to help and never let anyone else have pain.
My wake up call from this prison I had created for myself in my own body was when I simply walked up stairs and was winded upon getting to the top of the flight of stairs. It only took that one time realizing it to know that something needed to change. It was my senior year and I vowed to change the way I lived my life...I vowed to lose weight and to be healthy.
The question was, where do I start? The answer was quite simple, I was fit once, and I could become fit again. I contacted my old Karate teacher (who I had stayed in contact with off and on) and signed back up for Karate. This time I vowed to stay with it. With just that alone I lost my first 20 pounds.
After I graduated high school I decided to start anew. That had been the plan all along, I had grown out my hair with the intention of cutting it and donating what I had cut to Locks of Love. The cutting of hair is always symbolic of taking control of your own life and that is what I intended to do. I had let food control my life for long enough, and it was time for me to be in control of my own life. I knew that it would be a hard road, and I was right.
I decided to cut out all sodas and even Peanut Butter, which were two things that had become the biggest manifestations of my food addiction. Soda was not really that hard to say goodbye to, I had slowly been doing that throughout my senior year anyway. However, Peanut Butter proved to be practically impossible. I knew going cold turkey would ruin any chance I had of deleting it from my diet completely, so I did it slowly...I had to control myself and I did. I managed to get myself to a point were I only had Peanut Butter once a week, and eventually got it to not eating it until I really needed it. I had gone a full three months without eating it and finally decided to let myself eat just one more jar...so I got myself a small jar and enjoyed my reward. Only about twenty minutes later I started to feel sick. I realized that a lot of my gas issues in high school had to do with eating peanut butter. This was three years ago, and I haven't had peanut butter since.
Over the four years it's been since I graduated high school, I have slowly changed my eating habits and managed to eat healthy...for the most part...and have lost over 75 pounds. I still have a ways to go. I am about 30-35 pounds away from my goal weight. I am still bang on course since my goal was to be done losing weight when I graduated college. Which will be this December. I have ventured into many different styles of Martial Arts and am biking again.
The journey may not be over, but I never overlook the fact that I have quite the success story. I am not only just working on my weight and physical health, but I am also working on my mental health. I am not so depressed anymore, but just like my weight, I have a little ways to go before I am not depressed anymore. Though, do not be mistaken, the loss of weight does not help your self esteem, as a matter of fact, there are days where it quite hinders your self esteem. Losing weight has been the most emotional journey I have ever been on. Hopefully, upon my College graduation, I can start anew again. This time be a truly happy person and be at the weight I want to be at.
I tell my story in the thought that perhaps someone will find this blog and read it. Perhaps be at the same place I was...or worse...and realize, there is still hope. There is always hope, that is one thing that I have managed to teach myself. Hope is the one thing that you can always hold onto.
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