I cried in a dressing room the other day.
I've wanted to cry before, often out of sheer frustration because nothing fit like I wanted it to, but this time I cried with happiness.
I was looking at myself wearing clothes two sizes smaller than I've worn in many, many years.
I started this weight-loss journey last year, just before Thanksgiving. I admit that my timing could have been better. Slogging through the holiday season, watching people eat all that lovely food like green bean casserole, homemade rolls, cornbread dressing and all the desserts was nothing short of torture.
However, that moment in the dressing room made it all worth it. In fact, I hope to have several more of those moments before my journey is over.
I can't remember a time since puberty hit that I haven't felt fat. Honestly, most of my years since puberty, I have been fat. I was active at first, but gradually the daily grind just became the routine.
I think we can all relate to being in a rut. I've heard the saying that a rut is just a grave with both ends kicked out. Ouch. That saying can be true for my situation. No, I'm not diabetic, nor do I have high blood pressure. But I have witnessed family members and others struggle with more and more health issues the older they've gotten. Being overweight only exacerbated their problems and was the main contributor in some cases. I didn't want to wake up in 12 years, pushing 50 and finding myself crippled, having to take insulin shots and/or a bunch of pills to manage health conditions that I could hopefully avoid if I lose weight now.
I was also tired of not really looking in the mirror. Ever hate yourself so much that you never really look at yourself? I've been there for years. Women have a deep capacity for self-loathing. We are our own worst critics in every way, and I hated the way I looked and the way I felt.
Pscyhology plays a deeper role in health than people realize.
Many people seem to think that you become fat just because you eat all the time, and that you eat a lot ALL the time. The truth is that it's a combination of things.
Yes, you obviously have bad eating habits, but you might be surprised to learn that you can gain weight eating just one or two meals a day without gorging yourself all the time. Of course, having one of those meals be a quick trip to McDonald's because you didn't prepare anything for a work lunch doesn't help. While it's true that the number of calories you're eating may not be particularly high, they're still not healthy. And eating only one or two meals a day does nothing to make your metabolism kick in. Also, working at a desk is pretty sedentery and if you don't move, you don't lose any weight. This is the cycle I was in.
My meals did nothing to make my body feel better, and my self-loathing did nothing to make my mind feel better. I'd think about it and realize just how much weight I needed to lose. I'd get depressed because it seemed like an impossible task. To feel better, I'd eat something-usually chocolate. Then I'd realize I had just contributed to the problem and feel worse again. It was a vicious cycle.
I recently read about researchers who think sugar is addictive. After my experience with food, I think they may be onto something. After you have certain things, you just keep craving it. It's hard to fight.
Emotionally, you get burned by insincere compliments and poorly disguised mockery from some folks. Working out can be a real ordeal in the wrong environment too. Who wants to run the gamut of sideways looks and smirks?
It all takes a toll. You become a nonentity to many and gradually to yourself. You find ways to hide. You find ways to compensate for being ugly.
It all contributes to a deeper feeling than just feeling "bad." It is a type of depression. And you don't climb out of that easily at all. Obviously I am speaking from my own experiences and not claiming to be spokeswoman for fat people everywhere. But I am not so naive as to think my experience is particularly unique. When you are in a bad place mentally, it's very hard to "just stop eating" as so many "helpful" people tell you. They have no clue how hard it really is to take that first step. It is a real mental game. And many of us need help and encouragement, not judgment, to win it.
I guess I just hit rock-bottom with feeling bad all the time and worrying about my health. When I got roped into talking to a weight-loss program person at my gym in November, I had signed up before I really realized what I was doing. I had reached the mental boiling point and realized that if I didn't do something now, then it might be too late farther down the road.
And now about four months later, I was crying tears of joy in a dressing room. The program really is working for me. They give you guidelines on not just what to eat, but how much. They make it realistic and manageable. They keep me accountable because I have to weigh every week. I also have to keep track of what I eat and when I work out. I need that structure and guidance. Of course, I knew that you were supposed to eat basic food group items, but learning exactly what and how much really helped. Learning how to change up exercises to keep my metabolism on its toes helped a lot too. This is not a "diet." It's a complete lifestyle change.
The trainer at the gym told me that exercise is the cheapest antidepressant, and he was right. As the weight is coming off, I see that my outlook on life is better. I do feel better physically and mentally. Sure I still crave that chocolate, but only occasionally. I've learned to manage that sweet tooth. I will admit to missing pizza, but I must say that being aware of all the fat grams really turns me off of a lot of food.
I also have to say that I have received nothing but friendliness and encouragement from people that I see at the gym. That much-feared place has become a safe haven for me. And if I occasionally get a "look" from some random person at the store, then I can let it roll off of me. They don't know me; their opinion doesn't matter and has lost the power to hurt.
I still have a long way to go, and when I get sad about that, I think about lyrics from a couple of gospel songs: "The journey gets sweeter every day," and "I'm too close to home to ever give up now."