The Journey

So, about a month or probably more ago, I posted a "note" entitled The Journey Begins.

Well, yeah...guess what? Imma trip. In and of myself. Ain't no journey been started or even mapped out.

Yes, I'm full of shit, apparently, although not intentionally. I MEANT to start trying to lose weight. I MEANT to get full on serious. I MEANT to really make an impact.

But, guess what? I haven't.

If ever there was a human version of a hovercraft. That'd b me. I haven't GAINED any weight, but I damn sure haven't lost any, either. And guess what? That really sucks. Hard.

Here is what I think the problem is. For what feels like my entire life. Every breath and cognizant realization of my existence, I have hated my body. Always. Like...forever.

I've always wanted to be thin. You know what I mean. Those girls in school who didn't even KNOW how thin they were, but would bend over to get something out of their binder and you could see the knots on their back from the vertebrae screaming out at the fatties saying..."ha, ha....look at us!!".

The girls who just ATE whatever they wanted, at any given time. Nachos, Doritos, sodas, cheese, etc. "Hey, I'm hungry for some tortillas drenched in butter. Want some?" Yeah, those girls. If you aren't sure if they exist, trust me they do.

So, anyway...apparently, a month (or 3) ago, I hit what I called "rock bottom". At the time, I had no idea what my plan was for success. I just thought that if I tried hard enough, my will would overcome.

Guess what? My will sucks. It's a weak, limp, bent over stem of a flower. There is no awesome blossoming going on here.

In the wake of my failure, I have tried to analyze what went went wrong.

Here is the best I can come up with.

When I was in 9th grade, my parents drove me from far east Texas to Jackson, Mississippi to receive a prescription of diet pills from some random man. I recall sitting in a waiting room with a myriad of people who loved food far more than they loved subjugating themselves to the likes of speed, but at 14 years of age, I wanted to be thin.

I took the pills, lost the weight, lost my periods and remember being too weak to finish a 2 mile race in a track meet. Nice.

After that came Diet Center. It was still ninth grade, but all I remember is sitting uncomfortably in a "counselors' office in Marshall, Texas and having to eat an apple a day, every day, while on the diet. My friend and I would bake our apples, adding calorie free sweetener to the slices, which, no matter how you cut them never added up to more than one whole. I remember the pieces shriveling in the oven each night and me salivating over the thought of THAT being my dessert.
Let's see...in the meantime, I'd get up in the middle of the night and eat banana moon pies when no one was around to see me.

One time, I bought a package of soft serve chocolate chip cookies, hid them in my bathroom, and devoured them during the afternoon lulls before my parents got home from work.

I'd try to make myself puke up the contents before they arrived, but I was never any good at that.

What else have I done?

I've been completely and totally vegan. That means absolutely no meat or dairy products in your diet. I did it for a while and lost a nice bit of weight.

I've done Weight Watchers and counted my "points" while I ate. Sadly, but truly, I was breastfeeding during that time and apparently, that allows you WAY more calories/points than if you don't have a toddler suckling your breast. Yes, I lost weight, but once I weaned my baby, well....it was hard to eat as many calories as I was accustomed to and still lose the weight.

In recent years, I've adopted the Zone way of eating. In a nutshell, it's a healthy combination of carbs, lean protein, and healthy fat. In all honesty, this seems the best way to go for me.

But, as I embark on this "Journey" (yes, I understand if you eye roll here), I keep coming back to the same question.

Losing weight, for ME, has been incredibly difficult through the years. There appears to be no set program that actually works long term.

I have to ask myself...how effective would it be to finally learn to LOVE yourself, Macy? Really love yourself? Accepting all of your flaws and imperfections?

In my whole life, I have never been able to do that and absolutely still can't. I just wonder, how amazing would it be to look at myself in the mirror and LOVE that lady who stands before me? That feeling is a mystery I've yet to unlock.

Something though, tells me, that this is MORE the way to go. This might actually serve me better than any prescribed pill or program or mindset that comes from anyone other than me.

I guess it's still left to be seen.

I can be sure of this though. What EVER path I choose to take, if I DON"T love me, I'm certainly doomed.


SO....(deep breath)....here I go. When I look in the mirror tomorrow morning, I will celebrate the crazy, wild, mixed up, lost woman who stands before me. I will celebrate her body, resplendent with stretch marks and dimples and wisdom and age. I will embrace her and cherish her and see if that, finally, after so many years, reaps some worthwhile rewards.

The Journey Begins

Inhaling deeply. And...exhale... Here goes. I've been toying with this idea for a few weeks now and apparently, tonight is THE night.

Welcome, one and all, to my weight loss journey. Yes, I have officially decided I'm on a weight loss journey. Actually, that's crap. I popped out my my mom's underweight uterus on a weight loss journey, as it seems like I've spent my entire fucking life trying to either make peace with my weight, lose weight, keep weight off, or not gain an ounce.

I'm creeping towards 40 and here I sit, blubber engulfed, still trying to lose a few pounds.

Therefore, in an honest but admittedly desperate attempt, I'm 'outing' myself as a fattie and putting it all out there, so to speak, so that I might, in some small way, feel accountable for what I eat, say, do, and think.

Consider me the 2010 version of Bridget Jones, minus the charming British accent, the cigarettes, the single life, and well, the option of making out with either Colin Firth or Hugh Grant on any given night.

Here I am, unveiled, in all my modest glory. I stepped on the scale this morning and weighed 149. I am 5'5' tall and yes, I realize that I am not obese. But, I can't fit into my skinny jeans, feel like a linebacker in my sweaters, and avoid catching my reflection in the mirror. In a nutshell (with nuts I've probably scarfed down in a frenzied, afternoon hunger "binge"), I am miserable with how I look and feel.

Today, in an extended moment of self torture (let's be real here, I'd already stepped on the scale to record my weight), I tried on a pair of skinny jeans. I envisioned the zipper refusing to meet across my stretch mark riddled stomach as if it were two opposing sides in a battle. Instead, the zipper zipped all the way up, but the resulting muffin top overflow was both incredulous and disgusting at once.

To further hit home the fact that I've totally let myself go this winter, I pulled out my favorite summer shorts. They are bright red, short, and I recall wearing them in the Bahamas two years ago with a white tank top and incredibly sexy, black sandals. Again, they zipped, but they fit like a pair of Spanx. I considered wadding them up and stuffing them in my purse, to carry with me as if they were my flag signaling surrender, but left them forlornly in my shorts drawer.

I'm not sure what my exact plan is to lose this weight. I would LOVE to weigh 135, but know myself and know that that is extremely hard (read: miserable) to achieve. The weight I can most get excited about these days is 138. It's under 140, but not just ridiculously low. Mind you, if I went under that, I'd be thrilled, but as someone pushing 150, I won't be too ridiculous.

It's almost 10 p.m. I ate okay today, but probably had more wine than I should have. My plan is to record what I eat each day, for better or worse, here on this blog. My goal is to lose at least 11 pounds and then go from there. Ideally, I would love to achieve this by mid March. That's what, six to seven weeks away? Okay, maybe by early April. I know that it's incredibly hard for me to lose weight fast.

So, there it is. I've said it. You can bet your sweet ass I will be saying it more often too. This might very well be the most real diet journal you've ever read. I refuse to say that I won't be annoying. I am almost certain I will. I refuse to say that I won't muck things up. I *am* certain I will. But I do promise to be real and honest and do the best that I can on any given day.

Hopefully, you'll join me or at least hang out for the ride.

Off we go!