I’d like to tell you that my months-long hiatus was a completely productive one, that I was so busy hitting the gym and loosing weight I simply had no time to post.
I’d be a big, fat (pun intended) liar.
When I began this blog years ago, I tried to make one promise: to be thoroughly honest. I’ve shared my honest opinions on many subjects, including the ones about self image and my desperate struggle to get a better hold on it. I was doing well. I was feeling confident. Then suddenly I just simply wasn’t and the downward spiral started from there.
Before I continue, I ask the nay-sayers out there to bite their tongues before calling me “hypocrite.” I admittedly preached the need to be dedicated, the need to have constant drive. That didn’t mean I found it to be easy. This is the real account of my journey to a healthier me. So when I have down-moments, they really happened, and as promised I am sharing them.
Firstly, I got very, very sick for two weeks. I had a cough that kept my family up at night and a nauseated feeling that made the gym impossible. Not a big deal, once I felt better I promised myself I’d get back on the horse. After I recuperated, we were heading to shoot HomeMade Healthy’s St. Patrick’s Day extravaganza when Megan texted me about how awfully sick she was, but wanted to go through with it anyway. When we arrived, I found out how she was so not kidding. Her eyes were half open, her speech incoherent, her poor little nose stuffed and beaming red. She looked like me two weeks earlier.
“Let’s do this,” she weakly chanted with a forced, enthused pump of her fist.
I warily looked her over and asked if she was sure. She nodded and smiled as excitedly as she could.
Now maybe at this point your saying to yourself, “huh, I never saw that episode!” Well that’s because poor Megan was so sick and I was far too clueless during the whole shooting, that the footage was deemed impossible to use. To Megan’s credit it was a delicious meal of Shamrock Pizzas and Baked Potato Skins! I just couldn’t put the both of us on air without the best quality we were capable of producing. I will not end up on Tosh.0 as the stupid fat chick that looked to her co-star whom was loopy on cold-medicine for help with how to smash up the insides of a potato because she was too clueless as to how to do it. I am honest, not self-destructive.
As we packed up and headed out so a drowsy, sickened Megan could recuperate, I sat in the car with this sinking feeling. I hadn’t posted anything in weeks, I wasn’t loosing weight, and I had no motivation to even think about exercising. Megan and I were rushing around weekly to ensure a decent episode while we both had a million other responsibilities to tend to, and again I still hadn’t dropped one stinkin’ LB. What was the point?
So I fell into an all too familiar, scary pattern. The one where I ate what I wanted, stress ate, didn’t see the inside of the gym and cried because I couldn’t stand the way I looked in the mirror.
On top of all of this, I was having some strange skin issues. It is no secret I have varicose veins, I’d had them forever, so when I saw a splotch of discoloration on my leg last July I thought nothing of it. Fast forward to the end of February/early March (the time when I stopped posting) The discolored spots spread all over my legs and even to my stomach. Though the marks were noncontagious, not itchy, un-raised, not scaly and virtually painless, I was still grossed out by them. I went to the dermatologist and after a month of going to a specialist, getting three biopsies and not knowing what the bleep I had, I was completely depressed and completely burnt out (I’ll get to the results in a minute.).
I am not to proud to admit this: I needed help. Counting calories wasn’t working. Wallowing certainly wasn’t working. I have a stress eating problem with no end to the stress in sight and a potential health problem I needed to address, I knew I needed to get my whole self healthy as soon as possible.
I complained to my mom, and her logical response was to join her at Weight Watchers.
Looking at my mom’s 25lb-lighter body (seriously, the woman is looking great) I couldn’t deny that it was probably a good idea. After a week on the diet, I weighed in last Monday at 2.8 lbs lighter and am on an eating regiment that honestly works with my life. I felt hopeful and focused for the first time in a long while. I eat tons of fruit and veggies, and basically am learning the more nutritional options I have rather then measuring random calories into my day. Even when I got the news Thursday that my skin issue was officially partial parasporiousis the beginning stages of mycosis fungoides, a very low low low level cancer that is considered to be a type of lymphoma, I only binged within “point range.” Speaking of which, I am fine. There really aren’t any treatments besides sitting in natural sunlight (weird, right?) using topical cream and monitoring it to make sure it doesn’t get out of control. Though I’ll have it forever, the doc says that it most likely won’t get worse and I’ll be cool. It’ll suck having flare ups of gross looking skin, and although I have the blessed ability to hide those active spots, I’ll sill know it is there. Hearing any level of the “C Word” is scary and though I’ll most likely be fine, I am freaked out enough to know I have to get the rest of me in as best shape as possible.
I know before I talked about counting calories as a way to loose weight. I’m not knocking it now, it definitely can work. I am just in search of a more holistic approach which I think I’ve found in WW. My Catholic school training taught me how to follow the rules, and parameters are a good thing for a person in my dieting situation.
About 1,020 words later you just need to know that I am back, and going to do my best to keep it that way!