Why Can’t I Just Be Normal???

“Some days I hate myself. I just wish I could be normal”

That’s what I said to E this morning on the drive in to work.

And it’s true. Some days I hate that I am this person that I am today. Some days I hate the person I was that got me here. Some days I just want to yell and scream and say screw it all because I am just so sick and tired of being me.

Why can’t I just be normal???

Now I am not really sure if there is a normal or if what you would call normal is what I would call normal but here’s the thing- I just wish I could wave a magic wand and make it so I could go back to the beginning, back to the start of this problem, and stop it. Being overweight then morbidly obese that pretty much sealed my fate. There were only two paths that I could take- continue to gain and further lose control of my life and my health or lose the weight and get my shit together and get my health back.

I am thankful I chose the latter. Don’t get me wrong. I am beyond thankful. Even when I come here and complain and vent about the other side of weight loss I am still, always, happy that this is the life I chose. No matter how much I say I hate it. It is still a million times better than the limited life I had before.

But I digress.

I would give anything to have the ability to fix all my mental shit back then that caused these behaviors and addictions. I would also love to educate the younger me and teach her why we eat and why nutrition and good foods are paramount to living a healthy life. Because then, maybe, I could have prevented years and years of suffering.  

But I can’t. I can’t go back into time and fix the past in hopes to alter my future. Instead I must live with the decisions I have made which serve as a constant reminder that I did this to myself. That my life today was molded and sculpted by those decisions. My path is carved out. And I just have to suck it up and carry on.

What am I complaining about? What is so bad that I wake up days hating my life?

Well, nothing- in the grand scheme of things right? I mean, honestly I don’t have it bad. I shouldn’t complain. Others have it worse. But that being said, I am still human. I still have emotions and feelings and struggles. And some days I just want to vent. So here it goes…

It is annoying having to always think about food. I always have to have a plan. I always need to be prepared. I feel like food, and eating, is always (ALWAYS!!!) on the front of my mind. I hate that I always need to know where, when and what I will be eating. I hate that food is always such a big deal for me. I hate that when it comes to food I only have two options – complete control or reckless abandon. I have no middle ground. I have an addiction. I can’t just be ‘normal’ and just eat whatever, whenever without thinking about it first.  Trust me. It gets old. And again, I will say that yes this does get easier and yes meal planning and keeping a stocked/pantry and fridge and always having backup plans/ideas is really just part of my life and it is something I have accepted. But yes, there are definitely times when I wish it didn’t have to be this way.

I go off of the assumption that people that know me and know ‘my story’ all understand that my previous weight gain did not come from health issues and it clearly did not come from eating too many vegetables. But maybe I need to tell you more. More about how I got here.

My weight gain came from an unhealthy relationship with food. Addictive behaviors (re: binge eating), poor habits (inactivity, mindless eating) and a very large lack of knowledge when it came to diet and nutrition. Through this journey I have been able to create healthy habits, I became more active and learned how to follow my hunger cues as signals for when I should be eating. I learned more about nutrition- eating to live, not living to eat- and have been able to make better choices for my health and wellness. Those are great strides and I am proud of what I have accomplished. But the fact of the matter is I am still an addict, although I like to think most days/weeks/months I am an addict in recovery. I know better now how to take care of myself and because of it I have more control over my addiction but that doesn’t mean I am healed. I mess up. I lose control. I have days when I just don’t give a shit and I eat, and eat, and eat until I want to vomit. I know I shouldn’t. And almost always in that moment I can tell you exactly why I am doing it, what triggered this behavior. But it is so hard (so unbelievably hard) to stop once you have started.

I know I don’t talk much about this and maybe that is something I should do. Because I cannot be (or act like or give off the impressions that I am) ashamed of this part of my life. It is who I am.  It is no longer part of my every day behavior but it is still there. That demon. He isn’t gone. I just learned how to quiet him better. But he comes back every now and then and shows me that I am not in control. I am not as strong as I think I am. That nothing has changed. And I feel defeated. I feel like shit, honestly. I feel like the lowest of the low. And it just fuels the fire. I binge and feel like shit which in turn keeps the cycle going. I feel like shit, I eat. I eat, I feel like shit. And you know by eat I don’t mean a few stalks of celery or a handful of carrots but I mean I eat everything. I eat like my stomach is a bottomless pit and it is my goal to fill it. That is how I eat. And then I cry and feel ashamed and I hate myself. This is one of the worst feelings I have ever experienced. It sucks.

But then I find hope. It is a little thread of hope but it’s enough to begin to pull myself out. This week it was recognizing what I was doing and wanting to stop. Right then. I wanted it to just end.

So I sent my friend a message and I told him what I was doing. I have never done this before. I have never reached out during a binge and ask for help. And we talked. And I felt a bit stronger.

And then I told E what was happening. I have never shared these details of my food addiction with him before, not this way. And I felt a bit stronger.

And so I went out to my FB page for this blog and I told you all about it. Again, details I don’t often share. And I felt strong. I felt in control. 

I had gotten to that point where I saw the trigger and my reaction and was able to acknowledge that how I was reacting wasn’t normal. It wasn’t healthy.  It wasn’t how I wanted to react. I was able to stop it. And I was able to pick myself back up. No, it wasn’t easy. And no, it probably won’t always happen that way. But I saw it this time, a break/shift in my pattern and behavior and I can see that maybe there is hope for me to find my new normal.

I guess the reality of all this is I won’t ever be normal. Not like someone that has never fought through obesity and food addiction. I will always struggle because, well…I can’t quit food. But I can try to find a new normal for me. One that I can, happily, live with. And it starts with this:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

The courage to change the things I can,

And the wisdom to know the difference.

Love and hugs,

Dacia

xoxoxoxox

My Big Fat Lie

I have been seeing so much on the interwebs lately where people are discussing judging or not judging a person’s level of healthiness by their weight/size. People arguing that fat people can be healthy and skinny people can be unhealthy and how we cannot measure health by appearances.

And I agree…

Somewhat.

Errr, mostly. Definitely mostly.

But here’s the thing- if I told you I was healthy at 286 pounds, I was lying. And maybe I never told you that but I know I certainly told myself that.

And maybe that’s because I was in denial. Or maybe it’s because I actually thought it was true. I don’t know. But I know I certainly thought I was.

Why did I think such a thing, you ask…

Well, because I wasn’t on any medication, I didn’t have diabetes (or pre-diabetes), my blood pressure was great, my cholesterol was a bit high but not high enough to warrant medication (my doc told me to eat less eggs- lol) and not outside of the normal range, and because I really didn’t understand the state of my condition. Meaning, I had no idea I weighed 286 pounds. Honestly, I never weighed myself- I actually didn’t even own a scale. I rarely went to the doctor and if you asked me I probably would have thought my weight at least 50 pounds lighter. Which yes, that weight still would have made me morbidly obese but it put me closer to 200 lbs. than 300 lbs. and so I thought I was ok. I knew I was fat but I thought I was a pretty healthy fat person, and that was ok.

But the truth was it wasn’t ok. And I certainly wasn’t healthy.

Maybe I had good bloodwork but seriously, is that really the only measurement of health?

Nothing about my life screamed healthiness. I ate too much processed and junk foods and my portion sizes were huge. I had no control over my ability to regulate my diet. I basically ate with complete disregard to the effect it was having on my body. The body that struggled with walking. Something basic that most every human being should do at least somewhat easily- was hard for me. And it hurt. If I went for a walk or rode the recumbent bike (the only two things I could do when I decided to try and become active) I would have to ice every joint in my lower half afterwards. And honestly, I know I didn’t even realize how much it hurt, how much effort it took, and how hard simple things were until I lost weight. As the pounds came off and my lifestyle changed everyday things became easy. That is when it really dawned on me how sick I truly was.

And it wasn’t just activity that was hard. Life, overall everyday life, was hard. I was sick all the time. I caught every flu, cold, and stomach bug that went around. I was tired ALL THE TIME! My energy was zilch but again- until it got better I really didn’t know how bad it was. Just getting up and showered and out the door for work every day was a challenge. And when I got home, after sitting at a desk all day long, I had no energy to move and no motivation to even try. My sleep was shit, unrestful. And don’t even get me started on the mental toll being obese took on me- I could write a novel on this topic alone. Pretty much every part of my day was miserable- even if I had adapted to it enough that I didn’t even recognize it- it was bad.

I know that we shouldn’t be judging people period, and especially not from appearances. I certainly wouldn’t want someone to have ever looked at me before (or even now) and tell me something they thought they could deduce just by looking at me- because it could be wrong, but it is also wildly unnecessary. That being said, I know now that I was not a healthy fat person. And yes, at some point I did become an ‘I’m getting healthier’ fat person. But I know with 100% certainty that I was absolutely not healthy at 286 pounds. And I say this not to try and debate healthiness while being obese but to tell you this:

Three years ago I thought I was healthy, mostly because no doctor had yet to label me sick.

Today, I know better.

And it took getting to this point now to recognize just how sick I was.  

And I honestly think I could have lived in denial for a very long time…

But the harsh reality was- it was inevitable, if I stayed the course, that one day a doctor would finally tell me otherwise.

I definitely was on the path to getting healthy but at this point even walking was still extremely hard

Love and hugs,

Dacia

xoxoxox

What I'm Afraid Of...

The other day I wrote that I am not afraid of failure and then alluded to the existence of something that does frighten me.

And then I ended the post there.

Cliffhanger…

Nah, I wasn’t trying to build suspense. I just thought this topic deserved a post of its own. So here it is…

I am afraid of being complacent.

I already told you that I am lazy and since then I have been trying to be more active during the workday. And I am thankful that this need to move more drives my actions most days. Because honestly, I am afraid of the day that it doesn’t.

I am afraid of the day that the couch beats out the gym.

I don’t mean the day where I have an internal debate over whether or not I should rest or workout (because this happens almost all the time) but the day I just come home and plop on the couch and don’t give it a second thought.

And it’s not just exercise I am worried about, I worry about being complacent in every aspect of my life- what I eat, how I treat my friends, my work ethic.

I worry about reverting back to the days where I just ate. I ate with complete disregard to what I was eating, why I was eating, and how much I was eating. I just ate. And ate. And ate. I lived under the guise that I was ‘enjoying life’ which honestly is one of the worst excuses a person like me could have ever given as nothing about my behaviors or my actions coincided with truly enjoying life. When you break into a sweat just getting dressed it’s not enjoyable. When you skip out on events because your weight and physical capabilities limit your ability to participate (or leave you feeling embarrassed or ashamed, even if they shouldn't)  it is definitely not enjoyable.

I worry about the day when I morph into a mindless drone so caught up in what is happening inside that 5 inch screen and become completely oblivious to the world around me. I worry about becoming the person who can no longer hold meaningful conversations. The person that has completely forgotten how to live in the moment, be there for their friends, and have legitimate concern for others that goes beyond a Facebook post or tweet.

And I worry about the day when I stop caring about my job. The day when the decision to not put any effort in, to not go above and beyond, to not try my best and hardest, has already been made and I am just left an apathetic shell of a person.

Now, I know what you might be thinking- those things will never happen. You have nothing to worry about.

And I hope you are right.

I hope I have, finally, found the answer to how to be happy and successful in my life and that I will continue to grow and progress and change and challenge myself to be better.

Because I refuse to be complacent.

Because I lived that life.

That life left me almost 300 pounds (and steadily climbing) and absolutely miserable.

I didn’t want to do anything and didn’t care if that made me a lazy couch potato with achy joints that struggled just getting up and down a single flight of stairs or walking from one end of the block to the other.

I didn’t want to control my diet and I didn’t care if that made me fat even when that fat made it virtually impossible to enjoy my life. Even when it clogged my arteries and raised my cholesterol and made me tired just from being awake.

I had an easier time interacting only with people online and avoiding my in real life friends and I didn’t care if that caused me to miss out on life and ultimately lose touch with many amazing people.

And, sadly, there were days where I just didn’t care about my job. Days when the comfort of my bed, and its ability to shield me from the rest of the world, kept me from not only my responsibility as an employee but also kept me from something I loved.

So if you ask me what I am afraid of the answer is simple- that girl I once was. Because, in my opinion, (for whatever that’s worth) once you stop caring you are basically conceding that you give up on life.

And I, for one, do not want to give up on life…

 

 

Love and hugs-

Dacia

xoxoxox

 

I'm on a Plane!!!

So, right now I am cruising somewhere ~ 33,000 feet above the Earth and because technology is so wicked awesome I am able to hop onto the interwebs and write for a bit.

Actually, I really should be finishing up a paper for my grad class but I needed a break.

And I also needed to vent.

Well, maybe not vent as much as talk. I have a lot on my mind right now and no one to talk to so here I am- my home away from home :)

Currently, there is a 'famous' food blogger sitting next to me on my flight to LA. She was talking earlier to both me and the gentleman between us about what she does, why she was flying to LA and why we should know who she is. I'll admit that even though I did not, in fact, know who she was specifically, I did know of her through her accomplishments. Guess she has earned the right to call herself a famous food blogger, but I digress.

She was talking about food and dieting and the gross shit that we eat, especially in processed and take out foods. Which I totally agree.

Nothing she was saying I disagreed with. In fact, nothing she said was novel. It's all stuff you've heard before- even from me- like eat real foods and understand labels, etc.

But while she was talking, as I sat there nodding my head as she ran through her canned spiel, it got me thinking about some issues that really bother me.

Most people, well at least most educated people, know that eating junk food, processed food, fast food is not the best choice. Most people, I believe, understand the idea that they should drink less soda and eat more fruits and veggies.

And the things you read, even here, are pretty much common/universal concepts.

With that being said, something that plagues me constantly, why can't we change knowing all of these truths?

Why aren't we teaching our kids about nutrition in school? Why weren't we/ aren't we being raised knowing that all calories are not created equal?

Why are school lunches bullshit? Why can't they be free and healthy instead of garbage?

Why can't businesses afford working parents the ability to have more time being parents? I know that feeding kids junk food/processed food comes partly from convenience and partly from pressure, among other reasons and I blame the structure of most U.S. businesses for a bulk of these issues.

Why do we treat obesity rather than try to prevent it?

Why the fuck don't we realize that obesity and poverty have a direct correlation and do something about the quality of foods available to the poor? This disgusts me. Urban grocers don't even get fresh foods.  WTF!

Why are vegetables/fruits, especially non-GMO, organic ones, so craptastically expensive? And beef and dairy so ridiculously cheap??? (Yes, I know it's because of subsidies but therein lies the problem)

Why are we, and by we I mean me, doing more to stop this plague? This scary as shit health epidemic? Why Dacia, why? Why don't you do something????

I have these conversations with pretty much anyone who will listen. About how scary the food industry is, how we are creating bad habits and addictions from childhood and we don't even understand why, how it is so much more expensive to be healthy (true) and if you are poor- forget about it.

Honestly, I don't know what to do.

I look around me every day and see someone whose life breaks my heart.

I mean, I can barely afford to eat the way I would like to (really, i can't) so I make concessions, too.

We are all out there making concessions.

It's just the way it is, right?

But why does it have to be that way?

I don't know the answer. Or even the point of all this other than to tell you I struggle with these thoughts daily. And that I feel helpless because honestly, I just don't know what to do.

We have so many powerful people out there advocating for diseases, most even preventable or curable through healthy eating and activity habits, and yet where is the fight to treat the cause?

I don't think the world needs someone to tell them not to eat fast food, I think what the world needs to know is where they can find affordable AND healthy alternatives.

Or if those arent available, to figure out some way to create them. I need to know that there is a change that will come that will create better options for us all....

Not just for those that can afford it.

Healthiness should not be a luxury item...

Thanks for listening!

Love and hugs from afar,
Dacia

xoxox

A Little Rant...

A friend of mine posted a link on Facebook to an article written about a relationship between an overweight girl and a non-overweight guy. Actually I saw this article link pop up a few times all with comments by friends about how much they loved the article or that it was a happy/great story.

If you want to read it here’s the link : “I’m Overweight and My Boyfriend’s Not. Big Freaking Deal.”

This article stirred up a lot of feelings for me; some because it is something I could have written myself a few years ago and some because there are parts that make me sad.

I’ll try to explain.

It really bothers me that articles like this even need to be written. People should not have to justify that their relationship is ‘normal’ even though the two people in it are of different sizes. It’s like writing an article saying “I’m white and my boyfriend’s not. Big freaking deal”. Do we really have to make an issue out of something that should be a non-issue?

Now, I know what the reality is out there. I am not that naïve. There are people who think fat people (especially fat women with skinny men) dating/married to skinny people is gross/weird/wrong whatever. Just like there are people out there that think mixed race couples are wrong. And there probably isn’t much I could ever say/write that would make them think otherwise and that’s sad.

It’s also sad that in 2013 articles like this need to be written. Come on people, WTF! Do we not know better by now? A person is so much more than there outward physical characteristics. I don’t want people to like me because of my weight; I want people to like me because of the person I am. My character, my beliefs, my heart and soul- not the container that it’s all housed in. And yes, again, you are probably thinking I am being naïve- people are just not like that.

Well, I call bullshit. I have a husband who never once in our near-decade relationship has ever made me feel less than perfect because I was overweight/obese. I don’t think the man has ever called me fat, even when I, myself, have called me fat. He never criticized my appearance and although I wasn’t at my heaviest when we got married I was still a size 20. And he loved me just the same. And no, he doesn’t have a ‘thing for fat chicks’ (this is something the article discusses) he just loves me for the person I am.  

And so do my friends and my family. I have been so fortunate to know so many amazing people who have always made me feel so much love and happiness- I never felt like I needed to change to ‘fit in’ or impress them. It’s probably why it took me so long to get to the realization of actually how unhealthy I was and that I needed to change to save my life, but I digress.

This makes me sad because of this mindset…'he loves me just the way I am'. There are people out there saying that someone loves them even though they are overweight which to me just sounds like ‘I am overweight and therefore less of a person and should be unlovable’ and that’s just not true. And I am so guilty of this mindset. I know there have been times in my life where I thought about how anyone could love me because I’m so disgusting/ugly/gross etc. and I just want to go back and slap myself for thinking that way.

You see, I might not be able to change anyone’s mind about how they perceive others but what I really hope to do with this post is to change your mind about how you perceive yourself….

You don’t’ think you are worthy of experiencing love? You’re wrong.

You think that being fat makes you a bad person? You think that being different is a bad thing? You aren’t and it’s not.

You are whatever you perceive yourself to be, you can have anything you want. But you have to love yourself.

Find self-acceptance, love yourself right now as is and stop looking for validation from others. Because you won’t get it. Because you don’t need it.

You only need to know you are who you are meant to be; yesterday, today and tomorrow.

You are worthy of your love.

You deserve happiness.  

You are perfect.

You are you.

Anyone would be lucky to know you, to have you as a friend, to love you….as is. There are no requirements or conditions that need to be met first. Well, maybe just being a good person but I know you already are so you’re good.

Don’t change yourself to fit some ridiculous image of what you think you need to look like in order to ‘find what you deserve’. Don’t. That’s not how it works.

Love yourself, embrace your beauty, your character, embrace what makes you special. Different is awesome. Own that!

Because at the end of the day; people are people.

An overweight girl dating a non-overweight boy should not be a story.  It’s just life.

And your life, my life, their life doesn’t need anyone’s approval or validation. It doesn’t.

And yes, maybe I might be the queen of all of naivety but can’t we just live our own lives and stop shaming ourselves (or others) into feeling bad about things we really shouldn’t?

Is it so hard to just love ourselves and be happy? Personally, I don’t think it is.

And when I talk about my life and my journey I know I am only here today because 100 pounds ago I realized that I was a really awesome person as is. And if I didn’t stop hating myself I would never find my happiness.

And so I did.

And you should too.

No matter what.

Because once you love yourself it becomes so much easier to love everyone else…as is.

Rant over...

Oh, sorry, one more thing - I LOVE YOU!