It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like myself. I mean, a really long time.
I was kind of getting back to me before I got pregnant with the twins. I was enjoying life, and felt balanced between work and home. I got involved at the kids’ school and made friends. I was exercising and I was actually enjoying it. This isn’t to say that the gestating and birth of the twins ruined me by any means, but I have felt a bit set back, stretched thin, frazzled, anxious and definitely not the person I want to be. I discovered recently that a good chunk of feeling this way had to do with letting my thyroid meds lapse. I was super foggy and sluggish and it was impacting every aspect of my life. I’ve gotten that under control, and am 5 weeks in to re-medicating and I feel a lot better. I’m functioning like a human again. Remembering to do the simple tasks that I couldn’t focus on before and thinking clearly.
And this has been great. I’m organized and getting things done and still having time left over for some fun, but I’m not quite there yet. I’ve been thinking a lot about last summer, how I went on a “diet” which basically eliminated gluten and dairy from my life, and how I can’t remember the last time I felt that good. And I began beating myself up because, why, if I was feeling so great last year, would I start putting all of the things that make me feel so terrible back in to my body. And let’s not even get started on my body image, and how badly I feel about the way that I look. That’s sort of secondary to wanting to be healthy, but it is still something I struggle with. I don’t want to be a MILF, per se, but I do want to look as if I haven’t completely given up and it’s hard to do that when for all intents and purposes, I have.
I originally gained a bulk of weight due to a long misdiagnosed auto-immune disorder that gave me a severely underactive thyroid. Once diagnosed and medicated, some of the weight came off but I had to work really hard at it. Then I got married and started having babies, and basically said “fuck it.” It is so much easier to eat what I want when I want it. To not have to worry about willpower. To be one of those people who says “I may be fat, but I’m happy!” I’ve been on health kicks before, but they always fall by the wayside when something better (for example, cake) comes along. I’ve talked myself out of it a million times–I’m actually pretty healthy. I have low blood pressure and great cholesterol numbers. I exercise some–not enough, but some, and this is probably the only reason that I don’t weigh double what I do now. The problem is that I cannot stop shoving crap in my mouth, which starts a cycle of me feeling badly in both my mind and my actual gut. I almost always regret the junk I eat within minutes, but of course, the damage is already done at that point. So I eat more. And it doesn’t stop. Ever.
What I want is for food to stop consuming my life. I want to be able to have a slice of cake on occasion and not be tempted to eat the whole cake. I’d like to go to the grocery store and not be consumed with what treat I’m going to buy myself. I’ve thought a lot about it, and have decided to get some professional help. This is very much a mental thing for me; something I’m never going to get past by just dieting on my own.
Ed has a friend who runs a weight loss clinic. He was on one of their programs when I was pregnant with the twins and had a lot of success. I’ve tried being accountable to myself and it hasn’t worked. I’ve tried to do it on my own for the better part of 15 years. I can’t do it. So, starting on Monday, for the span of 12 weeks, I will have someone telling me what I can eat and when I can eat it. I’ll be checking in with her daily and meeting face to face weekly. I don’t think that it’s going to be easy. In fact, I’m kind of nervous about it. What will I do when I can’t eat my feelings?
I have to keep a daily journal as part of the program, so I’m considering blogging the whole thing–probably not here but in a different space. I’ll share that link if it happens. In the meantime, I’m going to do my best to not binge eat this weekend. I was going to end this by saying “Wish me luck!”, but I don’t think I need luck. I need strength, and maybe just some love. I want to be a better me–for my kids and for my husband. And for me too. I really hope I can do it.