Three hundred and eleven

Three-one-one, tres-uno-uno.  How is that possible?

Last August I finally bit the bullet and set up all of my yearly physicals. Things I haven't done since I was a child because I abhor waiting in a doctor's office for five minutes of care which costs me well over $100.  I just feel it's stupid. Our insurance company didn't agree with me. They made it mandatory.  Fine.

Ok, I'll go, but I won't like it. 

Anyone who has read any of this blog knows that I have been trying to lose weight for two years. And in that time my weight has yoyo-ed as dealt with mama's cancer and then death. So when I made these appointments I was expecting bad news. At my heaviest before all of that I weighed 296lbs.  And that was bad. So I was thinking maybe 300, possibly even 305. I mean it was going to be bad, but I had lost down to 276 at one point, so really how bad could it be?

Well let me tell you, it was bad. When I stepped on those scales my weight was 311lbs.  That was apparently the shock I needed because for 3 months I kicked my tail into gear and lost a total of 18lbs, bringing my weight down to 293.  Then came Thanksgiving and Christmas, both really hard times for me in terms of emotional eating. It's when I miss mama the most, when I think of her most. December is her birthday and Christmas and every time I turn around I am wishing she was here. So I pretty much gave up again. And I did it willingly. I did it knowing what I was doing.  January rolled around and I had my first visit with my new gynecologist.  I stepped on the scale and shocked myself again 307 lbs. All of that work that I had just done was gone. I was almost back to my starting weight in August.

Are you freaking kidding me?!

And you know what the worst part was? I couldn't blame anyone. I knew what I was doing when I did it.  My doctor had told me when I went to see her in August that if I needed some help, she could probably prescribe something. I wanted to try and do it on my own first, no help. Because I knew I could. Also because what good is a pill that makes you not hungry when hunger doesn't figure into my extra eating? I don't have to be hungry. I don't have to be anything. I love food. And it gives me comfort. When I am happy, sad, excited, bored, whatever. And sugar is the worst for me. Sugar is my drug of choice. 

So once again I find myself rebooting my diet, no pills still. Exercising my body and my demons. I firmly believe that I can do this. And if you've read this all before and are rolling your eyes, keep rolling them. The only time you ever fail at anything is when you stop trying. And I'm not giving up!


Picture credits: First/Second