It’s a long story.
It started when I was a child. My mom is one of those people who could NEVER stay on a diet. She eats uncontrollably. I’m talking 4 chocolate bars while watching a movie and I’d scream at her “If you wanna lose weight you JUST DON’T EAT. It’s THAT simple, mo-om.”
We had a healthy relashionship.
So, all the way through my entire life, she was on a diet because my mom was on a diet. That way I learned about calories – I know how many calories, how much sugar and fat each and everything I eat has and I’m very surprised when people around me (my husband) have no idea of what they’re eating –
I’ve been counting the calories I have in a day to make sure it’s under 1200 since I was 12. Sometimes, when my mom was feeling bad, we did 700.
And that’s how it was until I was 27 and I weight the same thing I did when I was 12.
I do not remember not being hungry. I was always hungry. But I was ok with it, I was used to it and my focus was to never, ever gain weight and be like my mom.
I was never skinny, though. Ever. I never felt comfortable enough to wear the clothes I wanted or to go to the beach in a bikini like the other girls. Nope. Never did that.
Whenever I told people I felt fat and uncomfortable they’d go “You’re crazy” Blah, blah blah. But I did.
Except now, I know that I AM in fact fat AND VERY uncomfortable for real ’cause when I tell people that, they suggest diets and tell me I should really try to lose weight.
Funny thing is, I know I’m fat NOW but this is the way I’ve always felt in the inside. Overweight. And, when I think about it ….I probably wasn’t fat at all. I just couldn’t see that.
When I left the hospital with the girls I was just fine. I was like 5 pounds overweight but my stomach was huge – obviously – so, I figured it’d just go back to normal and take away the 5 pounds with it.
So, I tried really hard to keep the weight down so I’d be back to normal in no time.
After 30 days, my stomach was identical to the day I left the hospital. It hadn’t go back one inch. I felt sad.
I started taking the brestfeeding pill, I went back to work, it didn’t matter if I was thin or fat… I felt like I’d never be me again. So, I ate.
I ate because I was sad. I ate because I was hungry. I ate because I couldn’t control it.
I gained 40 pounds -and counting-.
And I feel like shit.
And I know I’ve said this before, even here. But I figured I should write about it as a public (maybe not THAT public ’cause it’s kind of a blog for myself +5… but public-ish) … where was I? As a PUBLIC STATEMENT that I can do this and that it’d be very embarrassing for me to quit the diet in front of all these 5 people! And I’ll be very inspired by this amazing mom.
This ends now, people.
It just has to.