My name is Shelly and I have a weird, obsessive, and abusive relationship with Food.
I say this because I have battled my addiction to food for years. I have always been a bit of a chunk but over the last 4 years I have gained out of control. I allowed myself to gained over 100 lbs in four years. Is that a record? God I hope not. That would be incredibly humiliating to be the world record holder of the person to become obese in less than 4 years.
Anyway, enough of my banter. I am 22 years old and have experience weight issues dating back to 9 or 10. Back then it was okay to wear a Cardinals jersey and long blue shorts. It was okay to dress like a boy because boys weren’t looking at me as a chick. I was a tom boy. I have been chubby the majority of my life and have struggling internally trying not to hate myself for it. My mother was a wonderful cook so for a long time I blamed it on her cooking. In actuality it was my reaching for seconds or even thirds. It was my pigging out on crackers, cheese, tortillas and cereal after work and before my mom got home. How sad is that. I always stuffed my face in private when I knew no one was there to watch or judge me.
Anyway-back to my story. I was a chubby tom boy. During my freshman year (which in my town is still in jr high) summer, I shot up 5 inches, my boobs were round and high, and my hips jutted out. When I look back now, all I can think about it how hot I was. I, however, was insecure. I was always active. Captain of my jr high and highschool basketball teams, I was assistant coach after I graduate, I played for the soccer team and did track and field every Spring. I was still a chub. Why you ask? I seem so healthy. Because Food is the vein of my existance yet I live for it.
I even purposely took on anorexia as a form os keeping my figure the way I wanted. There were days where I passed out from not enough water or because it was easier to pass out then actually eat something and have to burn it off later. I wasted a good amount of my youth counting calories and calculating how many calories I burned. If my friends and I all went out and food was involved I would mooch a fry or two off of my friends and say that I wasn’t hungry. If I spent the night at a friends house, I would sneak out to my car where there was almost always a hidden candy bar or a bag of chips and chow down until I was disgusted with myself. Thats pretty embarressing and sad. Even I can recognize that now.
I didn’t really have too many boyfriends. I think they saw that I was crazy insecure and really obsessed with being liked. That is probably why the only guys I attracted really were after me for a lil wam bam thank you ma’am and then they were gone. Gone to leave me sulking in my self-wallowing puddle.
I continued through highschool with my weight. I watched it go as low as 135lbs and then back up to 170, down ,20 up 10, down 9, up 4 and then of course the ever dreaded plateau. I worked in mall in several very popular clothing stores that gave me access to discounts so I was able to buy clothes to adjust to changing waist lines but it was exhausting. I became very good friends with other people in the mall and learned their security secrets. Because I didn’t make a lot, I stole. I stole a whole heck of a lot. I’m not proud of it and even at the time it was really about how much I could get away with. Kinda of reminds me of my anorexia phase. Off topic again…SORRY!
When I graduated highschool, I began coaching basketball and met my future fiance (he was a referee, not a student-just so your mind is at ease). I fell head over heels and he loved everything about me-including my insecure body issues. To me, he was the first guy who looked me in the eyes and actually spoke to me rather than at me. He was wrapped around my little pinky and would have done anything I asked. I had never had that before. At this point in time I was 5′7″ and around 175lbs. A few months after we started dating, I got pregnant….and then engaged. Not long after that I miscarried. I gained another 25 lbs. I always told my friends, while we people watched in the mall, that if I ever reached the 200lb mark to just shoot me and end it right then and there because I would have nothing to live for. Of course I was joking but after gaining 25 more lbs..I was staring at that reality right in the face. I was very depressed and very angry with everyone. I wanted to blame my mother and my fiance for everything wrong in my life. My mother didn’t know about the baby nor my engagement since we weren’t really speaking during that time of my life, but I still blamed her. I blamed everyone for my baby being taken away and body “reacting” by gaining weight. My fiance and I ended up breaking up. It was heart breaking and I thought he would be the last man to love me for me and that I’d never find anyone again that would look at me, not my fat. I still think that sometimes when I am in a self-pitying mood.
I continued to gain weight, going to the food courts on my lunch breaks and using up my mall discounts. Steak Escape, Subway, Cinnabon, Chik Fil A, Panda Express! MMM, and here is where I realize who my true best friend was all along. Food. She’s there for me always, never turns her back. I can be mad at her for giving me more poundage and she won’t say a thing. She’s there to pick me up.
I eventually stopped looking at scales. I quit working at the mall and took up a job behind a desk sitting on my ass for 8 hours a day. I took up smoking. My health has deteriorated. Doctors found a mixture of things wrong with me including a cell issue that no one really knows how to cure. (I hate going to the doctors. Why? Because they weigh you. I always turned around so I don’t see the number but my doctor always calls me out. 254lbs I was.) I was placed on steroids to hopefully spark a reaction and properly diagnose me. No luck. Steroids-by the way-really don’t help with weight problems. I finally saw a picture of myself at a house party with some old roommates where we were standing in a line posing quite provocatively and I became sick to my stomach. I was huge. I looked pregnant. I had a beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other and here I am looking pregnant. Some role model I looked like. This was a huge revolation for me. I finally saw myself as others have seen me. I knew I was a big girl but for some reason I always felt like I was still my old size. It never really hit me. Now all the little things that I never noticed came to light. I did not look good. I could not pull off the tight pants and tight chest revealing shirts anymore. I could not jut my hip out anymore because it blended in with my waist now. My chin was combining with my neck. My calves-oh my calves! I use to be a track star, I had beautiful calves. Now I can barely get my old knee high tube socks over them-and that was my signature look. My feet were swelling and I could see the fat pinching out the straps. My rings no longer fit, my bangles no longer went over my knuckles and my necklaces all of sudden were too short to not choke me. How did all of this happen. All from looking at one picture, my mind was blown.
The next day I bought a scale. I was officially 287.00lbs. My smoking had developed into a habit so breathing while walking was getting noticeably dificult. Walking up stairs was pathetic. I tried to prove to myself that I was still somewhat in shape. All that working out and running in highschool had to have had long term affects. I drove to my old highschool track. Could not run a mile. Could not run one round around the track. I ran about 100 meters and stopped because I was gasping for air. My heart was racing and my knees were hurting. What did I do to myself?
Just so you know-readers-this is incredibly embarressing and has not been divulged to anyone before. This is the exposure of my dark side of the moon.
So here I am now. I moved in to a new place that has stairs-one of the major features I wanted-and a mailbox that is far away so that I am forced to walk. I bought the p90x after I bragged to my friends that I was still fit enough to do it with no issues. What an idiot move. I have had it for weeks now and I am too scared to do it.
I have a wedding to go to where I am a bridesmaid. It is in April 2011-in VEGAS of all places. I am not intending to be the sausage stuffed in a bronze dress next to the toothpick maid of honor and the other bride’s maids. So I need to get on this. I am hoping for motivation!!
I am guesstimating my current weight FYI. I have been putting off buying new batteries for my scale so that I don’t need to see my current weight. I need to though. I will post once I have. I will also post a plan. Yea thats what I’ll do.