Back on Track

Whew. 

It’s been a long slog through December, then January, and now February. Down ten pounds, up ten pounds. Now back down. And no plans for any carb-loading in the future.

I was 202 this morning. Hooray!

As long as I get my SF Jell-O pudding every night, chocolate or butterscotch if out of chocolate, no one gets hurt, and no carbs are sacrificed to the willpower god.

Exhale.

I had therapy yesterday, and I talked about why I’m afraid of dropping below 200 lbs. It goes back to an old boyfriend who, in the late 80s, died. He lost a ton of weight before he died, and I equate less than 200 pounds with death. That simple. I was dieting and working out at the time he was dying, and I lost six pounds one week and freaked out because I thought I could have what was killing him.

Here it is 26-years later, and I still have that fear. And I had cancer and am still here (although I will have to be diligent for the rest of my life for metastases, and other cancers like breast and colon—having cancer doesn’t give you a pass from any other types of cancers although, really, if there were any justice in the universe, it would be one cancer per person. Regardless.).

So I need to break through that fear. And I think I’m nearly there. If I can break 200, I will feel like I’ve accomplished all my weight loss goals. How far below 200 I get doesn’t matter—I just want to be below it. I’m a normal size. I bought a dress at Ross last night for $19.99. I only went to get a black T-shirt because I don’t have one that fits. I did get one, for $5.99, but that dress spoke to me. I’ll take pics on Saturday and post one or two up next week. It’s a size 14. And it’s a tiny bit big. But…my hernia takes up a lot of room right now out front, so I need that bit of room. But I’m a GD size 14. I’m smaller than I was in high school.

Now my butt…I’m not sure what size I wear. I need to get a bunch of different sizes and take them into the dressing room and try them on. Again, I need to make room in the waist for the hernia, which means I have too much room in the butt, but I need to find out what size I wear. I have two pairs of pants right now. Some jeans I bought last July on clearance at Target for $8.58—and what a deal. I’ve gotten a lot of use out of them—and some soft, loose pants, black, with an elastic waist. The jeans are a size 20 and the black slacks an XL. I bought a belt for the jeans, and they are still too big. Way too big. Yesterday I had to hurry to the bathroom. I undid the belt and then, without thinking, pulled the jeans straight down. I didn’t realize I hadn’t undone the button or unzipped when I took them off.

Huh.

So yeah, they’re a little big.

I was reluctant to buy more pants due to the constantly changing size issue, but it’s gotten to the point that I just need some damn pants and that fit. One of these days I need to go to the store, pick up a range of sizes, and just start trying shit on and see what shakes out.

It’s really weird to be here. I had a big body for 75% of my life, and to have it do and act in ways I couldn’t get it to in years past, and fitting places I couldn’t fit, and wearing clothes I couldn’t fit, and not knocking stuff over with my huge ass any more….it sometimes needs readjusting in my brain. I look in the mirror and sometimes I don’t know who the hell that is looking back at me. Not my face, not my skin, not my hair. Then I look deeper and I remember. It was always me, just buried.

I feel so great now in my 50s, I can’t imagine how good I would be feeling in my 30s or 40s had I gotten the surgery back in 2004 when I first started researching.

So I’m hoping to break 200 this week. *fingerscrossed* I'll update as soon as I do. Oh hell yeah.