I thought about reverting to old, unhealthy behaviors to lose weight. I have once again let myself get back to a place where I hate myself physically. And when I hate myself physically, I get depressed. And when I am depressed, I comfort through food. It’s a horrible, vicious cycle that I have become all too accustomed with now at 33.
I sat at my desk yesterday at work feeling very low. I looked at my reflection on Easter Sunday and saw my ever expanding belly staring me back in the face. My once toned arms were even larger than I had remembered them to be. I saw my real self that day. Not the thinner, healthier self that desperately want to be, but the real, heavy, need to lose weight self that is my reality. I have let myself get so bogged down by the stresses of life recently that I let myself go. Yes, I had been getting up to Spin, but spinning once a week is simply not going to cut it if I really want to get healthy again.
I really don’t know what needs to change in my head to make these healthy lifestyle habits become just that, every day habits. I don’t know how to flip that switch in my brain so that the inner, bullied, fat girl closes her mouth and believes that she can be healthy and happy, for a lifetime. I worry that I will start this journey and something will once again trigger me to stand by the kitchen sink and eat macaroni and cheese straight from the pot.
But for today, I’m reminding myself that this journey is simply one day at a time. I can not control what will happen down the road, but I can control what I put in my mouth today. I can remind myself how good it feels when I make good, clean, consistent, healthy choices and how bad I feel when I don’t.
I need to quiet that 5th grade girl who was called fat and ugly by her thoughtless classmates. I need to quiet that 5th grade girl who was given the adult size life jacket on her 5th grade school Baltimore boating fielf trip because, according to one of those mean bullies, I was too fat to wear the size everyone else was wearing. I need to quiet that 2nd grade girl who was called Andre the Giant and was given the role of the giant in her third grade play. That was a long time ago. Those words were not true then and I will not let them be true now. Just because I was bullied then does not mean I need to bully myself today.
Once again, I am putting one foot in front of the other, committed (albeit for the zillionth time) to getting healthy again. I will show myself and those mean childhood bullies that I am stronger than even I think I am.