It’s these damn pants. I’m wearing them now. They are tight. Not squeeze-it-all-in tight, hard-to-button-tight but I’d-rather-be-wearing-yoga-pants tight. They are simple black dress capri’s bought about 5 years. When I bought them they fit. Not too tight, but not too loose. For a while, they stayed that way. Then I got pregnant and had a baby. Post pregnancy, they fit about the same. Then they started to get tight again. Then un-wearable.
So I made changes. Weekly Weight Watchers meetings. Training for a half marathon. The pounds flew off. In less than a year those tight pants were literally falling off my hips.
But it didn’t last long. The half marathon was run. Weight Watchers became less exciting. I resented having to track every damn bite, lick and taste. I stopped stepping on the scale. I stopped checking in on SparkPeople.com. I stopped giving a shit.
Now the pants are tight again. The scale is close to the highest it’s been. I’m heavier than I was pre-pregnancy. I want to love myself, but I simply hate the way I look. I avoid getting my picture taken and avoid full body mirrors.
Most I’m importantly, I feel like crap. Physically I’m achy and tired all the time. I never want to run around with my son. I never want to do anything. I’m sad.
Am I depressed because I’m obese or am I obese because I’m depressed?
A little of both.
This has got to change. Twice in my life I’ve had a major weight loss/lifestyle change. Both times I was successful because I wrote about my ups and downs. I stayed active in online communities- first LiveJournal and then SparkPeople. So I’m going to do it again.
I’ll be writing about my daily struggles on SparkPeople where it’s locked down and private. If anyone else is on SparkPeople, please email me your username and I’ll send you mind. However, I will also update weekly here. Slimming Saturdays. Just a brief blip to keep me accountable to the public world.
This is a battle I’ll fight for the rest of my life, but I am hell bent on winning.