Well, I'm trying it again. This diet/lifestyle/losing weight thing. Every time I make a conscious effort, it points and laughs at me. My last effort stopped early this week, when I weighed myself after three weeks of a reduced calorie diet, combined with twenty minutes of walking, five days a week. I hadn't lost a pound. So I decided, hey, I can not lose weight while eating ice cream.
That was a fun wagon to fall off of.
But now I'm giving it another go.
A little about me: I'm 24, married with a 7yr old stepson. I've been chubby for as long as I can remember, back from the days when the mean little boys in elementary school used to say "Hey Lisa, grow UP, not OUT." (Of course, the requisite reply was "I'm fat. You're ugly. I can lose weight." Didn't do much for the self-esteem, though. Sigh.) At my biggest, I was 220 as a senior in high school, wore size 22 jeans. I ate out of boredom, and for comfort. Depression runs in my family, and macaroni and cheese was my cure. I've managed to get a handle on it without medication, but food still creeps in when I'm feeling down.
When I met my husband the summer of 2000, life was GREAT. Better than great. Between his influence and walking to my college classes, I dropped down to just shy of 180. I managed a size 14. What's crazy was that I still ate EVERYTHING I used to.... at least, it seemed like it. I was never hungry. But that little bit of walking was a huge kick in my ample behind, and it made an incredible difference. Unfortunately for me, that big change left me thinking that losing weight was easy. Effortless, even. So guess who didn't work to keep it off. Mmhmm.
Two years later, after marriage and subsequent marital problems, I was back up to almost 200. Today, a year and a half after the 200 mark, I'm sitting at a squishy 210. My mom managed to change her lifestyle and - mind you, I'm thrilled that she's at 175, looking fabulous, and gave me her entire professional wardrobe - I'm just grouchy. She's 46 years old. I'm 24. I'm supposed to be the skinny one! (.... if she ever comes here, I DIDN'T just tell you her age. Shh.... )
So here I am, wearing Mom's size 18 jeans and in serious denial. The marriage isn't doing much better (*chants to herself
"What doesn't kill us makes us stronger"*), and I'm suffering from a serious lack of self-confidence. The support system I had four years ago from my husband is gone, and with my moodiness (wheeeeee!) I can't keep myself going. My metabolism and I are having differences of opinion, and he's winning. (It's GOTTA be a man. I never get this mad at women. I should name him. Manny Metabolism. That *******.)
That's me, in a very large nutshell. My goal is 150. Now I just have to figure out how to get there.
Thanks to everyone for this wonderful site!