I feel like just putting it all out there today, so here I go!
My mom has always found happiness from her appearance and compliments. You name a plastic surgery, she has probably had it. Unfortunately, this meant that she thought in order for me to be happy I needed to look perfect. I can't remember the first diet she put me on, but I wasn't even even a teenager yet. I wasn't even that overweight at the time, maybe 10-20 pounds. She had me on whatever diet was popular at the time, and I was way too young to understand them. I eventually failed every time, gaining back even more than I lost. She finally lost it one day right before my senior year, and threatened to pull me out of school (I LOVED my high school) unless I went on this insane diet that limited me to a few hundred calories a day. I did it for a few months, but I was the most miserable I have ever been, and so when I rebounded, I rebounded hard.
That was almost 8 years ago now, and I only now do I feel ready to do this the proper, healthy way. My mother and I still have vastly different ideas of what beauty and happiness are, but at least she has stopped dropping hints at weight loss surgery every phone call we have. Honestly, I feel sad for her now, and I can only hope that one day she realizes what real happiness is so we can finally see eye to eye.
How did I get to this point? Simple... I'm a foodie. I love the way food tastes, it's just that simple. Not to mention, the instant I might feel a little hungry, I feel like I have to eat something. I still do this, but now instead of eating junk, I'm eating healthier options, like fruit.
how did i get here? im still asking myself this everyday. i think because im afraid of not having food. that probably sounds crazy, but when i was younger we were very very poor, while we didnt go to bed hungry we really ate the bare minimum. now im just like oh my god theres food out if i dont eat it now it might be gone later. i do this all the time, its really hard to change your mindset about food
Location: The beautiful Pacific Northwest! Tacoma, Washington
Posts: 500
S/C/G: 330/268/150
Height: 5'7"
How did I get here?
Laziness and my love for food is how I got here. I don't like exercising and I love food. It's as simple as that. For me it isn't about emotional trauma or depression, it's all about the food. Chicken alfredo from Olive Garden, Five Guys cheeseburgers and fries, and chessy saucy pizza. Lord knows I know better. But I have an addiction to food. And most the time I didn't even have excuses why I wasn't going to diet or exercise. I didn't need an excuse because it didnt register in my mind anymore than considering a trip to the moon and back. I wasn't a perpetual dieter. I can remember only dieting once in high school. My mom and I decided to do Richard Simmons Deal-a-Meal and Sweatin' to the Oldies. Hey, it was the 90's okay? I don't think I took it seriously. Those cards might as well have been for playing Go Fish. I watched what I ate for a moment in time when I was in my early twenties. I lost about 20 pounds sacrificing sweets, fast food and cutting back portions. But then I gave up and friend food welcomed me back with open arms. I didn't try another diet for almost a decade. Can that be right? Yep. For 8 years or so I ate what I wanted, when I wanted it. And packed on 100 pounds doing it. My diet was full of fast food and fats. I'm a fat little cheese lover, not to mention potatoes and pasta and rich creamy sauces. And chocolate. Finally I tried weight watchers in 2005 and I lost 68 lbs. But I gained it back. Not this time. I admit there are things I want in life that my weight makes impossible. I have to value those things above food. Maybe individually those things don't seem like much. Like the fact I always loved wild rides at the fair. The faster, higher, scarier the better! But at my current weight I don't think the safety bar would be able to latch, it would just bounce against my thighs. Or the fact I'd like to travel but I know on an airplane I'd have to have an extender for my seatbelt and I would be crammed in a teeny tiny seat that feels like I'm riding in my 2-year-old nephew's booster seat. These small things aren't enough by themselves to curb my enthusiasm for food and actually make me wanna exercise, but they stack up pretty nice. Some of those motivations are so private that I can't admit them to myself, let alone anyone else. But as I get closer to my goals I'll find the strength to give voice to those secret dreams.
One for each 5 pounds lost:
Last edited by Chubbygirl253; 07-10-2012 at 02:59 PM.
Reason: misspelling
I got this way due to depression and lots of emotional trauma. My son has autism and I thought it was my fault so for 11 years I carried that with me and on me. I came from an emotionally and physically abusive home. I was told that I am dumb, stupid, not worth anything, etc. I really really really wish that parents would realize the harm that they do to their children when they say those things to them. That they can hit them and hurt them and those bruises go away but not the pain of their harsh and hurtful words. I went to therapy starting this year and we discussed the verbal abuse and not one time did I not get out of their with dry eyes. Now that I am stronger at least mentally, I have decided that my mother has no place in my life. She continued to hurt me even when I was older and had kids of my own. I refuse to allow my abuser to continue to exist in my life and cause me harm and replay the bad memories of the trauma that she inflicted on me. I am divorced with kids and I had to fight to get out of the very dark and horrible place I was in in my life. I have emerged and it's time to get the weight off! I feel to much better after going to therapy and I advise anyone with a similar background to get it as well. The way that it has helped me is incredible! I am so much happier! It is one of the best things that I could have ever done for myself. So here I am now going down that weight loss road but this time for the last time. I have done it many times before so I know how to do it but this time mentally, at least, the load will be much lighter.
Luv - it sounds like you have been on an amazing journey already!
For me, it was a combination of several things.
First, I firmly believe there is a physical component. In the same way that people can be genetically disposed towards alcoholism, I believe that biologically sugar affects some people (including me) differently than others. I could be wrong about this, but what I do know is that I get an enormous high off of sugar and have no off switch. The idea that I can eat a cookie and feel satisfied – I don’t think that will never happen. I tried intuitive eating, and learned that eating sugar never does anything but leave me unsatisfied and wanting more and more. I have finally learned that I either need to not eat it at all, or only eat it in very controlled circumstances.
So maybe because of this or maybe something else, I was a chubby child. My mother was somewhat overweight and she spent my entire youth trying to control what I ate. Eating stopped being about whether I was hungry and became all about either pleasing her or punishing her. I completely divorced myself from any type of internal sense of satiety. With most of what I ate being so controlled, I also fell into “opportunity eating”. Since I was so rarely allowed anything, when I got the chance, I ate it, whether I really wanted it or not. That became rather disastrous when I got older and could make my own choices.
The flip side of this was that I didn’t like exercise. My mother kept putting me into different sports and exercise classes, not because (at least from my perspective) because I might enjoy them, but because there was something wrong with me that needed to be fixed. Exercising wasn’t about the love of movement and feeling good, it was a punishment I had to endure because there was something wrong with me. It has taken me until somewhat recently to find out that I really love to dance. If I never lose another pound I will continue to dance because I love it.
Between feeling like I had no self control and feeling ashamed of my size, eating was both what I felt like I could control and gave me a huge amount of comfort – at least in the moments I was eating. I was in such a terrible cycle of shame. I would feel terrible and unlovable that I was fat. I would eat to make myself feel better. I would then feel even worse for eating more and making myself fatter.
The only way I was able to break out of all of it was figuring out how to love myself as I am now. Self hate has always been a terrible motivator for me. I eat well and exercise because I care about myself, not because there is something wrong with me.
When I gained a whole bunch of weight back I lost, it was when I went through a period of depression and fell back into the patterns that I knew. Now I know that if I start to feel like that again I need to find help sooner rather than later. Hopefully if there is a next time, I can catch it much sooner, although here’s hoping there isn’t a next time.
For me, it was depression and just not caring about myself. I wasn't paying attention and within a year had gained a hundred pounds. It happened from eating to stuff down the pain. Pain from what? I don't honestly know. I'm being treated now and that caused my eyes to open and I HATE what I see. All of a sudden I am so ashamed and embarrassed, where a few months ago I didn't even think about it. So now I need to just do the work and pay attention to lose weight and get healthy again. It sucks because I feel like I am not only starting over, but now I have to start like 100 miles behind the actual start line. But no sense in the couldawouldashoulda's, my journey starts here.
When I gained a whole bunch of weight back I lost, it was when I went through a period of depression and fell back into the patterns that I knew. Now I know that if I start to feel like that again I need to find help sooner rather than later. Hopefully if there is a next time, I can catch it much sooner, although here’s hoping there isn’t a next time.
Most everyone that knows me lays the blame for my weight squarely on my father's shoulders. He was 6'8 and weighed over 800lbs. But his relative good health, and his unconscious use of his kids as crutches/gophers/assistants kept him working and in a great deal of denial. He died at 54. He had a gastric bypass and suffered a stroke during recovery. I don't blame him. He should have been a warning.
Food was a constant in my life, I had self esteem issues, and I was a carb addict. I gained most of my weight at college. I went 3 months after dad had his stroke and was abjectly miserable. I think that I diagnosed pcos played a pretty major part too.
Bottom line? If I loved myself even a little I never would have got here. It took having friends who cared about me (and were skinny and always slowing down to wait for me) to get me off my ***.
I was always a little chubby as a child, which meant I got teased a lot. I love carbs, and we didn't have a lot of money when I was a kid, so unhealthy food was always a 'treat' or a 'reward', so I've come to associate it as something good (not that I blame my parents for my weight issues). When I was a teenager I was ashamed of my weight and lied about it, and started starving myself which resulted in me losing a lot of weight and getting lots of compliments. Then we moved to another country, which I didn't want to do, and I started eating my feelings. I also had more independence to buy junk food and it started me on a cycle of binging. Combined with no longer doing the sports I'd done before I moved, I put on probably about 100lbs in the space of a year or two.
With my parents support, I lost 50lbs on a low carb diet, but then I got into an unhealthy living situation where I was incredibly depressed to the point of considering suicide. Instead, I ate and ate and ate and it temporarily filled the misery inside me. As much as I hate how overweight I am, I can't hate the pounds I put on during this time, as eating stopped me from doing worse things.
I'm now in a place and a situation where I am more often than not happy. I've changed the things around me for the better, and now I just need to change myself! I know it's going to be a battle- comfort eating always makes me feel warm and fuzzy and safe, and unlearning that is going to be hard. But as weird as it seems, I'm looking forward to the day when I feel sad and don't turn to a big cream cake and chips to make myself feel better.
What a great thread! Thanks to everyone who has shared their stories.
My road to 353 lbs was basically cluelessness, rebellion, and an inability to stand up for myself. I grew up with a petite Greek narcissit mother, who freaked out when at 10 I out grew her. And why wouldn't I when Dad was 6'4"? Her reaction to my prepubescent chubbiness was to buy me a girdle. Food was Mom's currency, so life was all about that. Everything we ate had to come from her. I was a normal weight when I left for college, but I gained 30 lbs in just year. And 20 lbs. more in the next two years while "dieting" to lose the first 30. Then I got married and slowly gained the rest over the next 20 years due to medications I took for asthma, depression and anxiety. I was really unhappy and had no focus in life because I was trying to be what everyone else needed me to be. Ended up with undiagnosed sleep alnea and ate to keep myself awake.
Marriage started failing and I woke up. Moved forward with discovering what I really wanted for myself and started losing weight. Started living the life I really wanted (turns out I'm not a doormat!) and found joy and lost 45 lbs. And then husband dumps me for not putting up with his destructive behaviors any more.
And that's okay! I even divorced my mom! Down 70 lbs. now, happier than ever, free to be me
for each 5 pounds lost:
