Mess of a Dream

 

« S.O.S. | Main | Dear Diary, James Spader is sooo cute. I wonder what his sign is. »
February 24, 2006

Today, I joined Curves. Yes, yes, I know it's not a "real" gym and that the founder gave a bunch of money to anti-abortion organizations some years ago (and probably still does but people seem to forget about things after the publicity dies down) but here's the thing:

When you weigh as much as I do, it just doesn't matter. I have to do what's best for me because my weight just isn't something to whine about over a pint of ice cream anymore. I've allowed myself to spiral to a place where I fear for my life. I know that diabetes, high cholesterol, high blood pressure, and quite possibly heart disease are on my horizon and I'm only 31 years old. Well fuck that. I refuse to sit around and die. I've already allowed myself to become someone I hate.

So, once I decided to get up, I knew that a regular fitness center would not work for me. I'd be embarrassed and humiliated. I hate when people say, "But the fit, skinny people at the gym don't care what you look like." or "The trainer doesn't judge you, he/she is just so excited to get to help you." You know, that's probably true for someone with 50 lbs or less to lose. When you need to lose over 150 lbs to just be considered slightly overweight, people notice you.

That's something new to me. Recognizing that people notice me only because of my weight is something I didn't think I had ever experienced. But now, I notice it all the time. I'm constantly tugging at my clothes, hoping I look half way decent. I feel peoples' stares at me as I walk across a room. I hate sitting down in public because I carry all of my weight in my stomach. For some reason, I think I look semi-decent when I'm standing up, but when I sit down, it all just comes bulging out of my center and I know...I just know that people look at me and think, "How can she breathe with all of that bulge? How can that be comfortable?" And I wish I could just take a pin and poke the air out of it. Only it's not air. It's fat.

I fear I've become the woman people loathe. I think people look at me and wonder why I don't try to do something with myself. I even sometimes think I was "let go" at my job because my boss obviously loves a cute young girl.

And then, I make a statement like that and wonder who is this girl I've become...I've become a girl that cries discrimination because I'm fat? Nope, that's going to have to stop. No whiners here.

I do believe that it all goes back to how big I've become. I cannot say the number out loud. I cried when they weighed me today. I was shocked. And then I didn't know if I should be shocked at how much I weighed or shocked that I had completely stopped caring about myself to the point that I truly had NO IDEA how much I weighed. I've gained 44 lbs. in a year. ONE YEAR. I wonder if I'm sick. That seems like a lot of weight to gain in one year. Shit.

I've been following Robyn's progress after WLS and I'm jealous of her. (I'm happy for her too though!) I wanted that surgery so bad, but I didn't want to have the surgery part. I wish there was a way to have the results without the surgery. Ha! Don't we all! (I think I found a blog where a guy is following the gastric bypass diet for after surgery -- only he didn't have the surgery. And he's been losing the weight. Anyone know that link?) The thing with me is that I was too terrified of being put under anesthesia. I believed that when my fear of dying because of my weight grew stronger than my fear of being put under anesthesia, then it would be time for me to have the surgery. I hadn't reached that point yet. Now, I have. But I'm without health insurance so that's no longer an option. Now, I do Curves.

I feel good about my choice. The women there were extremely kind and supportive. I felt accepted and encouraged from the moment I stepped in the door. I also think it will be good for me socially. Now that I'm strictly working from home, the opportunity for social interaction with adults is slim to none. Going to Curves three times a week will give me that and I hope with added energy I'll feel up to doing a lot more this Spring (I would love to be able to do some landscaping in my front yard -- it looks horrible -- but I can't bend on my knees for very long without them hurting. How pathetic.) Ah well, I know that with even just the exercise, I'll feel more capable of doing things and my energy level will increase regardless of what happens with the scale.

It's obvious to me as I re-read this entry that I also need to work on my self-esteem. I've never felt quite so negatively about myself as I do today and over the last six months or so. I literally cannot look in my eyes in the mirror. When I undress to take a shower, I will only look at my breasts in the mirror as I walk to the shower because they are the only part of me that I still find acceptable and respectable. Sometimes though, I cup them in my hands and wonder, "Are you just blobs of fat and I'm really flat-chested?" You see, I've always been overweight. I have no clue what I would look like weighing less than 200 lbs. I was a seventh grader when I surpassed 200 lbs and just beginning puberty. I don't know what my adult face is supposed to look like. Is that bizarre to anyone else? It is to me.

So, I'll be weighed again in a month and I'll see what happens when you sweat to the oldies with the anti-abortion supporters. (If I send a donation to a pro-choice organization, will that cancel out my indirect support of an anti-abortion organization? Maybe I'll do that anyway.)


Posted at 07:23 PM

comments: 1

show comments »


« hide comments