Over the past few days I have seen Oprah all over the TV. Not for her Angel Network, not for her talk show, not for her “favorite things” episodes…but for her weight gain. A lot of news stations are reporting this like it’s some national tragedy - like Oprah has failed herself and failed her viewers. While I’m not excited to see that Oprah has gained weight back (I would never cheer for someone to gain weight back), I am glad that she is opening up about it. I plan on getting the magazine issue that it’s in. I can completely identify with her. Granted, I haven’t packed back on 40 pounds - but I might as well have with the way that I feel. At my lowest weight on this “weight loss journey”, I was around 188 pounds, a weight that I can never remember being at in my adulthood. I was excited about eating right and exercising. I was excited to step on a scale every week to see where I was at. And now, I am teetering on the edge of 200 pounds again, a weight that I SWORE I would never see on the scale again! I read a part of the Oprah article online, it is she said “I was so frustrated that I started eating whatever I wanted—and that’s never good. My drug of choice is food. I use food for the same reasons an addict uses drugs: to comfort, to soothe, to ease stress.” Oh Oprah - I get it, I understand it and I completely relate!!! That’s one reason why I get so frustrated with the media and the way that they report. The news that I’ve seen is making it seem as if Oprah let herself get out of control. What most news people (and just people in general) don’t get is that food is a drug for some people. It gives them comfort, peace, happiness, joy. It lets people know that everything is going to be okay. For me, food acts like a big old hug. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. I WISH that it wasn’t that way - but it is. That’s why weight is a big, huge struggle for me. Last year, I had a grip on it. I felt as if I was able to find other things to help take my stresses out on other than a bag of Oreos. Over the course of the last 6 months, I have reverted back to running into the arms of the one constant in my life that will never leave me: FOOD!
I don’t enjoy being fat. I don’t enjoy my heart racing when I eat something fat-laden. I don’t enjoy having to stuff myself into jeans that once upon a time were getting loose on me. I don’t enjoy having to worry about my health. I don’t enjoy the pit-fall of emotions that comes after I dive into a plate of “insert any starchy, sugary, salty food here”. It’s so odd that I can come up with so many flowery, feel-good words to associate with eating, but every word I can think of about my weight might as well begin with a streak of curse words…..
Anyway, I know that I’m in the midst of changing myself back into how I once was. I know that I can do it. I also know how hard it was to do the first time. Prayer, prayer and prayer again.
J