I have thought about this a lot because I want to make sure something has changed. I am the person who put all of the food in my mouth and then did no exercise so I really can't point my finger... but some of the situations I find myself in don't help.... I need to make sure to figure out those situations.
The weight I gained right before I started dieting...depression, loneliness...
I haven't used a scale in ages but as long as my size 14 550's fit, I figured 'How bad could it be'? In high school, I was an athletic/muscular 11/12. In college, I stayed in a 14 w/out really trying hard despite a lot of beer . I did hit the gym some because I like sports (I took a gym class most semesters as well) and I still carried a good bit of muscle to help burn up the crappy food I like (more a quality issue than a quantity one- but I want my desert at night!).
All the way to my late 30's, the Levis fit with a pretty good gap in the waist (I am curvy and gain weight in my hips/thighs while my stomach used to not be a fat magnet).
But somewhere in there- the 550's a. were no longer 100% cotton, b. rode below the waist.
Honestly- what is UP with that. They are numbered. There are an infinite number of numbers. Why didn't they just make a NEW number for stretchy below-the-waste jeans.
So anyway... I am getting into my 40's and my dog is getting toward 15 and he just can't go for walks any more. Which both depressed me and eliminated my major form of exercise. And the new levis? They stretch....
And they still got REAL TIGHT. Even in the waist. MAJOR muffin top.
So finally I bought a scale. And I figured... 180? 185? Please not 190....
I was a pretty solid kid. Not fat, really, but never thin. I was disinterested and uncoordinated, so I never played sports or developed any skills to do so. I also had a congenital knee problem and was discouraged from sports at 13.
As a kid i loved sweets! I remember sneaking food as a kid (chocolate, cookies, etc). I had a stressful childhood and ate for comfort. I started my first diet when I was 13. Sad.
I was diagnosed with PCOS at 17. No one told me what it was, really. I don't think the medical community knew beyond having lots of cysts on the ovaries. I was told I would have an increased chance of having a multiple birth in the future and sent home.
At 18 I was diagnosed with hypoglycemia.
As a young adult I ate whatever I wanted and didn't gain, but still was an average size 9. I paid no attention to what was good for me. I totally took it for granted. In my mid twenties the weight started to creep on. I wasn't really aware until one day most of my pants didn't fit me anymore. I was in denial. When I lived alone, I ate constantly. Usually starchy or sweet foods.
After 25 I could gain weight just looking at a donut. That didn't stop me, mind you. I was 200 lbs by age 30. The lowest my weight has been since then is about 190- still pretty overweight. I am a compulsive eater who craves sugar like a madwoman. My exercise regimen is inconsistent. I have fits and spurts of working out- typically cardio and weight training. I have yet to stick with it for more than 3 months consistently.
I'm working on the blood sugar and PCOS issues with a low carb diet. The exercise is not in line yet, but hopefully in the near future! I have to relearn everything about eating and caring for my body.
I've always been heavy, but when I was in elementary school (3rd-6th grade) I was only 20-30 lbs heavier than my classmates. Even then, my parents were on me about my weight (mostly my dad). He would buy me a variety of diet pills, but they never worked because I never ate healthier (or less food) or exercised. He was constantly picking at my weight, which didn't help matters, saying that if I kept eating like I was then I wouldn't be able to fit through the front door. Yet, even though he said things like that to me, my mother continued to buy the same foods and stock the cabinets with snack-cakes and cookies.
My weight climbed steadily through school, with my eating habits fluctuating from almost-binging to skipping meals. I stayed very stressed in school, was socially-awkward (still am, but it's not as bad), and depressed.
Once I got married and moved out, I began to buy the foods I liked in abundance and eat more than I ever have before. This has caused me to pack on about 40 pounds since my high school weight.
I never have any energy, so working out is very difficult for me, and I feel lethargic a lot and depressed.
My relationship with food is very bad, I know. I just get a tugging feeling inside of me when I'm bored, telling me that I should be eating. I like the sensation of chewing and swallowing, that fix, you know? It's hard to talk about this with my mother, because she doesn't understand my addiction with food, though she should ... she's suffered from addiction, because she smoked for years. But she just sees my food problems differently. She thinks I can just say no, and that's the end of it, but it's not. My husband understands how I feel, but he is also an emotional eater, and we binge together.
Last edited by 3FCer344892; 05-05-2011 at 09:39 PM.
My mother died when I was 16, such a hard time for a young girl.
My dad and I wern't very close...he was a manly-man and not very emotional. More likely he was scared too.
Food was my blanket/support.
I've changed alot with therapy/books/talking it out.
Another tick in the "ate too much, moved too little" box. By all rights I should weigh about 1,000 pounds with all the overeating I've done in my life.
The scariest part is seeing how rapidly old bad habits can creep back in. Right now I am fighting with myself whether to go on a walk. It's a WALK.
The simple answer: myself. When you do the long division, several "buddies" held my hand as I strolled down the road to Fatland. Denial. That has been my best friend through the entire experience. I (to this day) can walk around all day thinking I'm one hot momma... until I catch a glance in the mirror. Until recently I could look in the mirror and assure myself it wasn't that bad. I've been lying to myself for years. I just never lost my "thin girl" mentality. I still think of my physical self as I did at a size 3, 115lb 16 year old! I haven't lost it per se; I just push it aside on occasion. I know it will come in handy later.
Change. My life is in constant motion. Moving out of my parents house into my first apartment at 18 with my equally naive high school sweetheart was the beginning of my fat journey. I came from an emotionally abusive home and my stepmom would lock all of the food we had in her room or a locked fridge in the garage. I spent the last three years I lived there working after school/weekends just to buy food for my younger brother and I. Food was for survival, not luxury. I walked a mile each way to and from school and also got up early in the mornings to jog. I was a fairly fit 115lbs and a size 3. Once I was in my own place, I started binging on food because it became a luxury I hadn't had previously. I went into a very stressful job and between that and the emotional struggle dealing with living on my own, I ate myself into oblivion and stopped being active. It just snowballs from there. I gained about 50 lbs in 2-3 months. I maintained that weight for quite some time. After having my son, I lost a little and then ballooned by adding another 20-30lbs. I'm roughly back down to my pre-pregnancy weight (2 1/2 years ago.) I really wish I'd paid attention sooner to what I have become but I guess I needed to do a little growing up before I could help myself.
Until now, I thought that my Dad, (may he RIP) was the only person on earth who thought cake batter, + ice cream was a great TV watching, late night snack. He was not over weight.
I hadn't thought about that in ages. The cake batter did not make me fat. Eating too much did.
Dad has been gone since 1977, and the cake batter just sparked a memory. Don't worry, it's a fond one, it was fun, drove Mom nuts.
I started working in a fried seafood restaurant when I was 15. I worked there for 8 years with the only option of food being something from home or free food there. I chose the free food there. That started me off on a downward spiral and then I got pregnant with my daughter.
My lowest weight in the last 7 years was when I was pregnant with her and lost so much weight in the first three months because of morning sickness. My highest weight was the day I went into the hospital to have her. The scale seemed to stick at fluctuating between 190-200. I've only just broke out of the 190's for the first time in 3+years.
i blame myself for letting my cravings get the best of me and letting myself binge and watched the weight crept back and keep on saying i will do something about it and then 30lbs heavier i think about the whats ifs!
My boyfriend at the time moved 4 hrs away. I was 16. A lot of other things had happened in my life prior to that and having him ripped away from my life, literally overnight with no warning, was really hard. I turned to food. After that I eventually met someone else (my now husband) but food had already become my best friend. I turned (and still do) to it whenever I am nervous, scared, angry, etc.
ETA: Before then, I was active and healthy, though I always felt I was fat (at 5' 8" 145- 160lbs). I walked 1+mile a day. But once that depression came over, I never wanted to do anything.
Last edited by justaloozer; 05-06-2011 at 06:56 AM.
Food, no exercise and laziness. Those are the three reasons why I ended up in this weight. Finally, I was awakened by a lightning to start my life all over again... in a healthy way.
Last edited by Soon2beSEXY; 04-16-2012 at 09:35 AM.
Add me to the loving food/love the "full" feeling camp. That, coupled with a craft beer hobby, put me at 224lbs.
I was normal-sized/thin child, but when I hit puberty, I really packed on the pounds. Puberty happened to coincide with a move, a school change, and family turmoil. I'd come home from school and eat almost an entire bag of tortilla chips with dip. Or a frozen pizza. I found it calming. I never really gained control of my weight again. Fast forward to a couple years ago and I discovered craft beer. Craft festivals, brewery visits, brewpubs, and beer bars over the last couple years probably added 10-15lbs.
I still love food, I'm just learning to question WHY I'm eating and also to control my portion sizes. And I limit the beer.
I was bullied all my life at school. I was left with zero confidence in anything except my intelligence, so that's the only thing I focused on. I became a perfectionist at school and accepted nothing less than 100%... thereby making myself feel even more of a failure if I didn't achieve it.
Eating I guess gave me a covering of fat so that I was invisible to people and didn't have to risk getting hurt any more; I have always felt "not good enough" and I guess I preferred to avoid interactions and blame it on my weight, instead of having my suspicions confirmed.
I've lost the weight and feel better, but I still have that hypercritical voice in my head.
