At My Heaviest Now

Being overweight is no joke. Although I am quick to make jokes about my weight. I do it for several reasons, the biggest being if I laugh first it hurts less. I didn’t get heavy until high school and let me tell you I have heard many cracks about my weight over the years. Many from my family members. My grandmother once told me I was more likely to die in a bank robbery than find a man since I was so fat. I would spend summers with her and I can remember her taking my plate from me after I ate what she thought was enough food. That along with other things created an unhealthy relationship with food.

Plus, if I’m being honest, I like food. I eat my feelings more often than not. I can eat and cry at the same time. At the moment, I weigh 230 pounds. That is bad for someone who is barely five foot one. I work out, but I still struggle with food and weight loss. I have come to terms with the fact that I may always struggle with it. There are plenty of foods that I need to give up on. Yet I don’t. I refuse to say I can’t because that isn’t true, I just won’t. I can give you every excuse in the book.

One of the easiest ones is that my mother always tells me to start my diet tomorrow. She also says to work out tomorrow or maybe next week. That gives the excuse I need and I grab it with both hands. That is one of the biggest reasons I get up before anyone else and workout. If no one is awake, I can do it in peace. I get that sounds bad. I have a healthy and unhealthy relationship with my mother. It is one that I am working on, but it’s complicated. Actually, that is the understatement of the year.

My weight sort of slipped up on me. I didn’t notice I had gained any weight until I had a hard time bending over a few weeks ago. I had been running early this year and everything seemed to be at a plateau. I wasn’t losing weight, but I wasn’t gaining either. Then I bent down to tie my shoes and I could barley do it. I got on the scale and then cried for two hours. How could I gain that much weight and not notice it? Have I been in that much of a denial about things? Did my depression cause this? Was it because of the pandemic? Was I overeating? Not exercising enough? There was a million questions that went through my head.

Since February I had gained thirty pounds. That doesn’t sound like a lot, but trust me it is. The biggest problem is I don’t know when or how much per week I was gaining. February was the last time I stepped on the scale. I don’t get on it all the time because I don’t want it ruling my life.

What it means now, though, is that I have to get my butt in gear and begin making some changes. Changes that will get the weight off and help me get healthier. No more excuses, no more putting it off. At the moment I am out-of-town house and pet sitting. That means I am alone and can make the changes I need so that when I go home, they are already habits. I will admit that dieting while pretty much on vacation will not be the easiest thing to do. However, if I can accomplish it while I am away I will have so much to be proud of. Be sure you are following me on Instagram to see how I am doing on my eating while I’m away. I thought I would share pictures of some of my meals while away.

WHAT IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH FOOD? GOOD? BAD? WHAT ABOUT WITH YOUR SCALE? LET US KNOW IN THE COMMENTS BELOW.