This has been a tough one for me. I know that lots of people had it rougher than me when I was growing up.... I wonder why I hang on to the old hurts and keep right on self medicating with food... when is enough enough? Why don't I want to let go of my old victimized self?

How are you guys doing? Have you dealth with any of the issues that got you 100 pounds overweight or are you just putting one foot in front of the other and "faking it until you make it?"

I was able to keep my weight on track through three pregnancies. I wasn't thin, but I kept it between 145 - 170. Then, I gave birth to a stillborn, and I could not manage a weight loss program (or even weight maintenance) simply because, in my head, I associated weight issues with the death of that baby. (The association is a little complicated, but the autopsy showed the cause of death as a problem with the umbilical cord. Even knowing that I did nothing wrong did not help, though.) This went on for eight years.

This time, though, I determined to do what it took to get past that very real hurdle. I spent some time in online support groups, began journalling, and started seeing a therapist. And now my life is much better and my weight loss efforts are finally working. For me, that's what it took, but I know that others have been able to handle the emotional eating issue with less drastic measures.

I overeat from stress, and boredom, and a lot of the time it was because I just didn't care anymore. I've dealt more or less with the last issue, but the first two still rear their heads on a semi-regular basis. Every time I overeat now, I try to think about why I did it and see if I can prevent it from happening again.

I think it's important not to expect yourself to be perfect. You will have times when you eat more than you want to. But commit to picking yourself up and getting back on track...

Why do I overeat? I like food. Eating tastes and feels good-in the moment at least.

There are many complex emotional and social urges/drives at play as well.

I had an extremely abusive, harsh childhood and remember being hungry, going without, having my food strictly controlled and being forced to eat spoiled, rotten food. I had to gather food from dumpsters behind grocery stores when I was a child. I also remember standing in line to get donated food, commodities and other subsidized foods. Government cheese tastes great to a starving child. Less tasty is day-old (read=two weeks past freshness date) donated bread and rancid peanut butter. I gobbled that up too, because I was so hungry. The gnawing feeling led me to eat dirt, my fingernails, wild anise and lemony-grass from the field next door.

When we were offered food, I remember the shocked, disgusted looks on people's faces as we hungrily gobbled up what they gave us, and I remember a time when my sister was punished for licking her plate. My mother thought that people would think she was cruel, that she was starving us, so we were told not to accept food from neighbors or people from our religious group, even though we were always hungry. Her controlling ways extended into every area of our lives but I remember food being an especially upsetting area of struggle. Once my sisters and I were punished for making "salt and pepper soup" (salt, pepper and water) because we were "stealing" and didn't have permission to take those items. We were so hungry.

Like many people who were abused physically and sexually, food was equated with control, was used as a punishment, a reward, offered the sense of protection and was used in excess as a coping mechanism.

Now, as an adult and a mother, I eat and feed my loved ones the freshest, highest quality organic vegan food I can find. I am a "foodie" and a gourmand. I love food, good, healthy, clean, nutritious food. I love to shop for it, prepare it, serve it and eat it. It brings me great pleasure to present others with the nurturing goodness of the food I prepare with care and intent.

Is food love? Not exactly, but it can be part of an expression of my nurturing feelings towards myself and those I care for. I am learning to feed myself in reasonable quantities and to savor the food I eat, to put it in its' proper place. It's a challenge to retrain myself. I work at it daily.

LaurieDawn, I feel for you. I'm so sorry about your baby. I lost a little one too, many years ago. I still think about my baby, I could never forget but thankfully, for me time has helped to heal the hurt. I'm so glad that you sought out the help you needed and I hope time will eventually take the sharp edges off your pain, too.

Wyllen, I'm so thrilled with your progress. You must have really worked your butt off to lose over 120 pounds. man. That is just awesome. Can I ask if you're following any particular plan or are you mostly eating less and moving around more? Thanks for your response about how you handle yourself and about not expecting perfect. At this point, even close to perfect would be perfect for me. Once I make up my mind that I'm actually on the journey to weight loss and fitness, I know things will feel better for me. Even if I'm the size I am now, just the act of consciously moving towards my goals will help me stay on track.

SoulBliss, I cannot even remotely relate to the suffering that you were put through as a child because I haven't experienced even a tiny percentage of your pain. What compounds the tragedy is that your Mom probably suffered as a child, too. If that was the case, then it can be so frustrating because it's hard to villify her because she's also a victim and as such, probably pretty damaged, too. I would so love to be able to zip right where you are and give you a massively big hug.

I came from a very different controlled childhood, but controlled nonetheless. My father is a gourmet cook and eating was always very important in my family. However, my mother was overweight and didn’t want me to end up like her, so from a very young age she started to control what I ate. This grew into a power struggle and I turned to food as a weapon to use against her when angry. If she made me mad, I would eat. If I wanted to please my father I would eat more of what he cooked. I got sent to every weight loss program my mother could find, including fat camp twice. I stopped using hunger and internal signal cues for how much to eat and used other people’s reactions.

Things got pretty ugly when I first moved out on my own because I could eat whatever I wanted with no one to say anything. The only thing that stopped me from gaining even more weight at that time was how broke I was.

I also learned to love eating as a way to medicate and anesthetize myself. It can totally be like a high from a drug. I would then hate myself afterwards, which would cause me to go to food to comfort myself, and thereby create a very horrible cycle. (I just want to mention that I don’t blame my mother for this now – I am an adult and it is for me to sort out the issues of my eating in the present).

I mainly now have trouble with loving how things taste and not wanting to stop, plus the comfort thing. I have to work hard to not turn to food for comfort. Sometimes I do better with this than others. For now it is always my first instinct and I have to mentally walk myself back from the cliff over and over. The most important thing though is that even if I do overeat I no longer berate myself afterwards.

I have no idea why, absolutely none. I have no reason to complain whatsoever, the only thing I've been able to come up with is that I was a reasonable size til I left home, when I was about 21 or so, and it's been a steady incline since then. I guess I just stopped caring. I thought "**** if i'm 220 i might as well be 320, who cares???" and I'd get little fits of wanting to wear cute clothes etc, but that only lasts for so long. I don't know about you guys, but i'm a master at keeping above the neck gorgeous! nice hair, nice make up... nice fingernails and toenails too, and just keep the rest covered at all times and also a weird sense of entitlement I think! like "i'm so fabulous the rules of physics should NOT apply to me, I should be able to eat an entire cheesecake and face NO consequences!"

the human pysche is a strange and wonderful thing, yah?

ha Christine! right on! me too -- so many pairs of slimming black pants, or capris now since it's summer....i'm invisible! no one can tell i'm fat whoohooo

One word, boredom!

Stress and anxiety-those do it for me!

I forgot to mention just LOVING food!

When I was really big, I kept NONE of me looking nice. I only got my first pedicure this past March and am starting to think I can look GOOD!

I think you're right about the mindset. Over and over I find this is a mental journey as much as a physical one!

As for my plan, it started off, "eat less lose more"... I started by bringing my lunch and snacks to work and focusing on portion sizes. My initial "move more" was to park further away and not yell up to hubby if I had a question, but actually walk up the stairs.

When you're nearly 300 pounds, consistent little changes can make a difference!

After a month or so, I started logging everything I ate online and became a calorie counter. I started at around 2000 calories/day on average. Then I added in regular exercise, then started paying more attention to nutrition, then joined a gym... so, things evolved. I read a LOT, especially about eating and nutrition. I cooked more at home and it was important for hubby and I to have tasty food, as well as healthy.

I guess you could say weight loss and fitness have become very regular hobbies!

I used to overeat because I thought being fat kept me safe from certain types of men I'd had run-ins with during my teenage years. Once I was healed of that lunacy (by God's grace), the only reason I eat when I'm not hungry is lonliness. My DH works the graveyard shift and I keep the schedule he does (no kids, much easier on both of us). It's hard being in the house 12 hours per day with nowhere to go and no one to see or talk to, not many people are up at 3am.

I have to really concentrate on what I'm feeling when I want to eat. It's a struggle sometimes not to eat my lonliness. But, it's been getting easier and easier as I'm progressing toward my goal. I find things to fill the time and food, most of the time, is just sustinence. I slip every now and again, but it's nothing close to a regular occurence anymore. I guess I've just made the decision that I'm not going to let it whip me. That I'm not going to let an inanimate, feelingless object get the better of me.