Skip to main content

Shit Just...

...Got real.

Hi.

My name is Teresa and I am still fat.

But, FYI...I am now crushing the new diet. For realsies.
I have walked over a mile every single day since we got home from Florida.
I have been massively UNDER my calorie goal every day.
And- for as bitchy and jaded as I am most days..I am having all the feels about it.


My calorie goal is high. I admit. I am doing this slowly. And for as much as I want to see a visible change, I honestly think this is the reason I have failed so miserably in the past. So, as they say...slow and steady (apparently) wins the race.
I am not weighing yet.
I made a vow-no weighing for at least 2 weeks, and maybe even a full month. The scale tends to make me obsess negatively. So, I decided not to make myself feel bad if it's only slightly changes. I am a terribly impatient person by nature.....so waiting to weigh in will keep me at least a little positive in light of things.
I already had a mini sad moment today when I put on a pair of shorts from last year, and they didn't fit. It was like pushing a cream puff through a key hole. Fat doesn't tuck, trust me on this.
I can wear them, but...they would be too tight and possibly rip out. I was hoping they would fit enough to wear, but nooooooo. Sigh.
So I threw on my workout shorts and went walking.
That was a big motivator, I guess and kicked my large ass into gear.

I have to say, since we have been walking-I have had more energy throughout  the day, which is nice.
But, I have also been having trouble winding down at night to sleep.
I need to really make a better effort to meditate-I know.

Here are the few things that recently changed.
My husband is on board with me now, for one...
He has been a pushy pain in the ass, tbh. But, it was really the very thing I needed to really make me accountable.
He realized he needed to also shed a few when we were in Florida, and his parents commented on his belly. (it's a wine and beer belly...and not easily avoidable in your late 40's for any man...even with his ridiculous energy levels and metabolism)
He will probably drop the weight a great deal faster than I will, I know this-there will be no surprises in that vein-but, as long as he is with me on portion sizes and watching me closely with choices...it will still be OK.

It has grated on my nerves a bit-the constant monitoring-but, I am not disciplined at all...hence the reason I am in this predicament to begin with, and he is extremely disciplined in everything he does. We balance each other out really well-precisely why I know that I married well. (Aside from his hotness and the fact he plays a mean gee-tar, that is)

The second change was that yesterday was a hard day for me.
Not diet-wise. That was on par, pretty well.
It was an emo-ridiculous day.
Last year, (yesterday to the day) I lost one of my best friends to a heart attack due to obesity and lifestyle.  She was like a sister.
And we went to her husband's house to have a year anniversary celebration of her life with tacos and booze.
If you knew her, you'd understand why this is awesome and why she would have fucking loved it.
And we talked to her husband, who is also a very good friend about her death, about her life, her family and all of the awesome memories we had together. I walked away from him with a smile, trying to hold it together. Even after one year, everyday it stings so much.
I miss her.

But, while sitting there talking and realizing that her final cause of death was due to her weight and sedentary lifestyle...I set down the third chocolate chip cookie that I was dangerously close to inhaling without a thought... (which was like the best thing I have ever eaten, by the way) I hadn't had sweets or chocolate of any kind all week up to this point...

While the cookie was good, the thought that I could still have my friend if she had eaten less of these things really hit me hard, and I struggled all day and night to keep the tears at bay.
What the fuck have I been doing?
I had a heart attack myself last year-damnit. It's time to fix it.
I want her back-which isn't possible, I know. So instead- I want to live to miss her.
That sounds kinda shitty, Yeah..I get it. But I refuse to leave my son before he has had his own children, like my parents left me-riddled with heart disease and diabetes.
Do you hear me?
I fucking REFUSE.

And maybe a part of my awesome always giving of herself bestie leaving us had a purpose in some small way.

Fix this shit, Teresa.
Exercise and get healthy for your son, and for your friend, for your husband, and Goddamnit. For you.
It's time.

Shit just GOT REAL.

So, rest assured..when I do weigh myself, I will share.
In my heart I know something shifted last week, and yesterday in my life.
And the shift...is because you need to do it when climbing a hill-otherwise, you get nowhere.

I cannot wait to coast down at the other side.

I may still be the fat girl. but I will be healthy, and it won't kill me.

God willing.

I had soft serve chocolate fro-yo tonight as a reward for the all of the hard work, and it was like ambrosia. It's amazing how much more you appreciate that kind of food when you cut it out for the most part, eh?
I'm tired, but excited. Here's to being a better me, I guess.
Stay tuned.

Feeling like fat Rocky,
(you heard the theme song in your head, too-don't lie)
Bravegirl.



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

They Don't All...

...Wear Capes. I can appreciate the upcoming holiday for the most part. I mean, I love my son-and love my daughter. They are by far, the best reason I can think of to carry on-even when life seems long. (which isn't often, to qualify) But, Mother's Day always sparks a bit of melancholy for me. Ok so,  My mom. She's dead. Ok, ok...I am not leaving it there-relax. My mom...who I judge, a lot. Yes, even though she's gone. I still do it. I think of my skills as a mom and hers and think-OFTEN- that...my mom could have done this. She could have accomplished this. She could have been better as far as I am concerned. She left me with so much shit-as you have probably seen in my reading. My neurosis is SO deep. My anxiety, my fear, my negativity, my coldness, my jaded and misanthropic nature, my inability to connect with people, and my anger. The shit. Sometimes I look at her picture on the wall, and I don't feel sad...I feel pissed off. And then guilt becaus...

The Cottage Cheese Stands Alone...

I love summer.  I love the small (the middle between summer and fall)  I love fall.  Not a fan of spring. Awful allergy inducing, rainy, constant shat of weather. Windy, cold one day, hot the next. Zero idea of what to wear to work...spring SUCKS.  And don't even get me started on winter in Illinois. BAG OF DICKS level, suckage.  Hate SO much.  Summer is my jam.  Yes, it's hot. Yep...fat girl. It does not mix. The humidity is awful. That corn sweat is definitely a thing.  Underboob, underfupa, underarms. Sweaty, gross, mess, stinkage.  Oh stop cringing...it's not like you can't relate.  I mean, unless you are a skinny chick/dude. In which case...whatever. Enjoy the icicle snot rockets forming under your nose in the cool of a properly air conditioned home.  (If you keep your thermostat higher than 74 when it's hot-don't invite me to your terrarium, you lizard.)  Anyway, my point.  For this summer lovin' girl, or old lady-wh...

The Scale...

...Was wrong. So my birthday gift was great. I mentioned it before. A digital scale that measures weight, body composition, fat, etc... A nice scale. It doesn't work for me. Apparently, you have to stand statue still and if you shift your weight even a millimeter-it scrolls back and forth on numbers and just picks one at random. Fuck. So, what I thought was a 16 pound deficit-was not. In an effort to gain understanding of a correct weight...I accompanied my hubby to his physical therapy appointment and asked his therapist if I could step on their scale to be accurate. It wasn't calibrated. It didn't work either. Damnit, man. So, since my own GP is close...right across the street, I decided to see if they could let me weigh in there. They have a jumbo scale. Proper and steady. The conversation went like this: Receptionist: Hi, how can I help you? Me: Um...weird request, but Dr. G would like me to monitor my weight because of my fasting blood sugar, I...