User Profile

In short-- I was skinny, I got fat, I want to get skinny again. Or at least not fat. If you want more, read at your own risk:
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I'm on a quest for better health. I've been up and down the scales more than once.

I was the "skinny kid" on the block, as well as being somewhat of a square peg for a myriad of other reasons.

I frequently had cause to wonder where my next meal was coming from. I was raised not only in poverty, but also abuse-- physical and mental. It's no mystery to me why, once I was working and making whatever small pittance I could squirrel away before it was discovered, I ate at every opportunity. Luckily, at the time, I was also extremely active, although the scale did tip a small bit, after which I started the battle with anorexia. Unable to control so few areas in my life, eating (or not) was control. I'd always been "the thin one"; that wasn't going to stop if I could help it!

The battle went on... eat, don't, up, down, happy, sad, sad, sad. I was in my late 20s and still fighting the fight. I'd gain 10 pounds, freak out and lose 15 in record time, be okay for a while... lather, rinse repeat. I also had a job that allowed me to work out like a fiend.

Ultimately, I had a serious accident which severly limited my mobility. I gained weight immediately. As the morphine coursed through my veins, the scale continued to rise in its output. Within 6 months I'd gained approximately 100 pounds. There were 50 more waiting for me in the wings that eventually found their way onto my body.

Have you ever met a fat anorexic? When the fog lifts, it's a hell of a combination. I knew I wouldn't be able to starve this off. Plus, shortly before my accident, I'd had a huge scare in that arena. I nearly met my demise, in fact, so the fear was still fresh.

Having only ever shed pounds by working my body into the ground and/or starving myself, I didn't know how to "diet". Even with "smart" methods of weight loss, Weight Watchers, etc, I knew myself. I'd even walked down that road a couple of times, but my head didn't work that way. If a certain number of calories were good, half that would be better. That went for exercise, as well. Everything in lack of moderation, from food to the anecdote.

Oh, yeah, and somewhere in there, I'd gotten married, divorced, made a complete 180 on my career path and rebuilt my entire life over from scratch. I'd also lost about 50 lbs. when I gained partial mobility.

Years later, I finally, FINALLY figured it all out. I was ready. I'd recovered from my accident for the most part with one more surgery. I'd cut out external toxic people in my life. I felt great physically and mentally. I could love and be loved, out with the old, in with the new. I did a complete overhaul and lost an additional 80 pounds. It was incredible.

Unfortunately, the tale doesn't end there. There was a chain reaction in my body I hadn't counted on. Other injuries were waiting to surface-- both physical and mental. I was in a lot of physical pain, but not ready to give up what I'd accomplished. I kept up with my active pace and newly-regained, extremely healthy eating habits, without a hint of starvation. I'd even been dating and loving it. I met one man who set off emotions I hadn't felt in years and years. The chemistry was amazing. He was amazing... for a short while. It soon turned not so great. The good was great, the bad was insufferable. I stood up for myself-- something I was never very good at when it came to men. I dropped him like a hot rock and moved on to someone else who was actually nice. That ended for its own reasons, but nothing bad.

Eventually, however, something had to give. That something was me. I was in more and more pain. A couple of other ailments were actually discovered at the same time. A few pounds crept on. Slowly, I reverted to the shell I'd been. The man I'd previously dumped hard, came back. Insanely, I let him in, only to go through the same cycle in shorter order, but at least it was a good physical relief in the moment. In the last few months, I've almost completely isolated myself. I have friends, very good ones in fact, but I took myself out of the dating game. I continued to add to my layer of fat that protects me from meeting anyone new. I hurt all the time. That gets old. I'm amazed I've not only been able to keep up at work, much less been promoted.

In as much pain as I've been, I put on a happy face. Honestly, it's not even fake. Beyond the physical pain, much about my life is very good. I have no desire to draw attention to my ailments to be "sick girl". Sure, I take off time for a lot of appointments, but I think everyone assumes it's for the past stuff, not for the new issues.

I need to move past this. I'm working with a couple of excellent specialists and receiving treatment that I think will ultimately help me a lot, but I have damage to undo. In the past few months, I've had many excuses to "break the rules" as far as eating goes- traveling, holidays, eventually lowering the bar.