All right,…I have been sitting here writing this post all the while wondering if I should continue to “put myself out there” regarding my weight issues.  It’s actually a rather emotional topic for me to blog about.  I have written this post…and then rewritten it…edited it…re-edited it…and I think I’m pretty much back to exactly what I started with-another post about my weight struggles in my brutal, tell-all honest fashion.  I don’t seem to have the knack for sugar coating things, especially when it comes to being honest with myself over my shortcomings.  So beating myself up over the heifer I have become (and a milking heifer at that) isn’t very difficult to do.  However, posting it for all my friends, family, and complete strangers half way around the world to read about tends to be where I hesitate before hitting the “publish” button.

I’m fairly certain at this point, the inner saga over my weight is never going to end which is rather depressing to acknowledge.  I mean, am I really going to have to battle this for the REST OF MY LIFE?!  Seriously?  I have finally come to the conclusion that I am indeed going to have to fight this demon on a daily basis for the rest of my mortal existence or just say “screw it” and go grab some Dairy Queen.  This week I have a bad attitude.  I’m bloated from my period…nice way to rationalize my insatiable craving for anything salty and then the need to chase it with anything sweet.  Sad but true, I really love blaming mother nature for all cravings far and wide and my inability to control myself.

Unfortunately, I was on a roll with exercising and then fell off the wagon with that too.  I had managed to log dozens of miles in just a few short weeks.  I had exercised for several weeks straight without so much as allowing myself to miss a day.  Then, I got sick…very sick , and that was all it took.  I have been feeling well again for weeks and still cannot bring myself to get back on track.  My dear, sweet, well-intentioned friend calls me every day to ask me if I want to walk or go to the water aerobics class we both signed up for (that I have subsequently attending ONCE), and every day I seem to have a new excuse not to join her.  Sometimes it’s legitimate.  My husband gets home late from work…we have plans with my parents for dinner….I have to wash my hair….I have to pick my nose…blah, blah, blah!  Leave it to me to find any reason not to go with her and then deal with the guilt once we hang up because I know I should be going.  I know deep down that nothing should be more important than exercising if I really want to end the battle of the bulge.  And yet even with this profound knowledge of what I should be doing, I continue to do the wrong things….like skipping the workouts in exchange for pizza and popcorn.

The most amazing aspect of all of this is that I continue to follow the same pattern and yet expect different results…which I do believe is the definition of “insanity”.  Let’s take a peak and what I put myself and my body through on a regular basis…

Step 1:  Ahhh, I love this step.  I let myself eat whatever I want because after all, life is too short to count calories, right?  I have a husband who loves me and is kind enough to lie to me whenever I ask him if I’m getting too fat.  I have enough sizes in my closet to fit into something at whatever size I’m in this month.  And quite frankly, who has the time and energy with 5 children at home to worry about their weight?  I need to just be happy with the skin I’m in and focus on what really matters….my hair?…my skin?….the birds?…the bees?  Well anyway, I’m sure there is something more important to focus on other than my weight.

Step 2:  Oh boy, summer is here.  The kids love the public pool which means I will have to wear a swimming suit in front of all those other mom’s…oh, the torture!  PANIC is probably the best word to describe this step.  I always end up in complete panic over some upcoming season or event.  Whether it’s Christmas and all the holiday parties I will need to attend or summer vacation and swimsuit season….there is always something that sends me into a tailspin and running for the diet pills and latest trend in fad diets and quick fixes to my ever expanding waste line.  I will enjoy my “last supper”…some feast I allow myself as I realize that the madness of eating anything with flavor must come to an end.  I savor each bite and promise myself that tomorrow the diet must start.

Step 3:  The obsession begins.  Not that it ever really ceases to exist in any of the other steps, but it’s in full force for step 3.  It’s all or nothing baby, and this step is all about being “all in”!  The urge to weigh myself 15 times a day is the norm, and I decide to get on a health food kick and all junk food is thrown away.  The kids really love this step.  They go from enjoying ice cream after dinner to fiber bars.  Nice trade off for a 9 year old, don’t ya think?  I also add the exercise portion to this step.  I’m fired up and raring to go!  I make big plans.  I overhaul the cupboards and my diet.  I join a gym and make long, detailed workout schedules.  I tell myself , “This is it!  I’m really going to do it this time!  I mean it!  I’m fed up with being fat and self-conscious, and I am really going to stick to it this time!  I’m going to be back in that size 6 before I know it!  I can’t wait!  I’m going to be so thin!  Blah, blah, blah!”

Now, If  I could just dwell in step 3, I would be thin, fit, healthy as a horse, and life would be grand.  However, I manage to maintain this stage for about 15 minutes, and then it becomes work….allot of work!  Who knew it would be so hard to monitor every morsel of food you put into your mouth and work out like a freak on steroids, just to drop a few pounds?  I mean, am I really that fat?  Do I really need to lose that much weight?  After all, life is too short to count calories, right?…..and we are back to step 1….

So where am I in the cycle this week?  Sadly, I guess I’m winding down step 1…the panic is setting in because my class reunion is right around the corner…so step 3 will begin tomorrow.  The really tragic part of this story is that I already ran these three bases twice since summer has begun.  I lost 17lbs over the past couple months before I fell off the wagon.  Unbelievably, I haven’t gained any of it back yet, but if I continue with step 1 as I have the past couple weeks, I am sure to gain it all back and then some.

So, I enjoyed my “last supper” for the 3rd time since May, and tomorrow will begin the hard-core, hands-on, all-or-nothing diet.

Wish me luck because this time…I really mean it!  I’m really going to do it this time!  I’m fed up with….blah, blah, blah!

After “The Skinny Cow” debut, I received a wealth of feedback, so I am certain it struck a chord with many of my readers.  The issue of weight management is nothing new for women, and it’s definitely not a novel concept for me either.  Talking about it however, has been extremely difficult for me over the years.  It is just recently that I have felt the courage to skim the surface of such an in depth and emotional topic.   

Part of what I set out to do with this blog is find out who I am as an individual.  Who am I, aside from being my children’s mom?  A huge part (no pun intended) of who I am  revolves around my weight.  When the numbers on the scale are down, my confidence is up, and thus my social calendar is full.  When my numbers are up, my confidence is nonexistent, and thus neither are my social commitments.

 I know to any of you who do not suffer from negative body-image issues, you may think this sounds insane, and I’m sure that it is.  However, truth be told…I honestly avoid social situations when I feel fat.  I feel as if everyone at school, at the bank, or at the grocery store is looking at me and judging my weight.  I cannot even express through words how self-conscious I become when we are eating out at a restaurant.  I find myself explaining and justifying every bite I put in my mouth.  “Well, I only ate X, Y, Z today so I really need to eat something for dinner!”  And as I listen to myself “justifying” my meals, I wonder if anyone else feels the compulsory need to do the same. 

 As I mentioned in the post “The Skinny Cow”, I avoid the camera like the plague… so you should see how nervous I get and how ridiculous I look when the camera comes out in a social setting, and I disappear under the nearest table.  Honestly, when I am out in public or around friends and family…and even when I am left alone with my own thoughts…my weight issues are all consuming!  “Obsessed” might not be a strong enough word for what I put myself through every minute of every day.  

I equate it to being an addict…although I’m not sure you can technically be addicted to Oreo’s.  I am addicted to the obsession over my weight!  At times, I am addicted to the food, but not in the way you might think.  I am overweight, but I eat far less than many thin people I know.  I consider it an addiction because of the mind control food has over me at times.  I think about every bite I put in my mouth.  Sometimes I am obsessing about only putting healthy food in my body…and other times I am obsessing over how fat I am…so what the hell…please pass the cake!

 It consumes my every thought.  It dictates what I eat…either good or bad.  If the number on the scale when I weigh myself for the 5th time today is a 1/2 a pound less, then I am motivated to go eat something healthy or walk another mile.   But when I weigh myself for the 10th time today and the number is up by a pound, I am just as motivated to say, “Screw the extra mile!”  Then I head straight to the kitchen to indulge in some chocolate to make myself “feel better”.  It’s shear madness!

I believe the most difficult part of managing my self-proclaimed “addiction” is that we cannot live without food.  An alcoholic who swears off drinking doesn’t ever learn how to drink in moderation.  To grossly understate the process….he/she quits cold turkey and never consumes another sip of alcohol.  Unfortunately for me, I have to eat.  I cannot swear off food, which is what makes this kind of an addiction so difficult to control.  

I have to learn how to use food in moderation…even healthy food choices.  I decide I am going on a diet and all of a sudden, all I can eat are salads.  I get on a tomato kick and I’m eating 6 tomatoes a day.  There is no moderation in my vocabulary when it comes to managing my weight.  I am an “all or nothing” kind of girl and regrettably, for as many years as I can remember, food has been either all…..or nothing….for me.  

So what is the solution in breaking this cycle and ending the madness in my thinking?  Good question.  If I had the answer, I wouldn’t be in this insane roller coaster of a body with the mental health of a schizophrenic!  However, I do know that finally writing about it has brought forth some clarity for me.  Hearing from women across the country who tell me that they understand…that they too struggle with these same issues…makes me feel more normal than insane for the first time in my life.  

Bottom line….I’m going to keep writing about my weight struggles.  I am going to muster up the courage to put it out there for the world to see all my inner most thoughts and feelings about my weight, body image, and self esteem demons.  

And by doing so….perhaps someone out there can relate and breathe a deep, much needed sigh of relief if for no other reason than…you are not alone!

A subject I have been reluctant to delve in to is my struggle with weight loss/weight management.  It is something I have fought with my entire life, and it is an issue I grapple with on a daily basis.  However, I haven’t been able to bring myself to blog about it.  After giving it much consideration, I realize that it’s because it is so embarrassing for me.  Believe it or not, I have no qualms writing about my periods and breast feeding, but addressing my constant struggle with my weight is imaginable…until today!  I have decided that if I truly want to blog about my daily life, and be honest with my readers about my struggles, then weight loss has to be a topic I address.  After all, I cannot be the only woman in the world dealing with these feelings….so here goes….

I was always skinny growing up.  My entire family is inherently thin.  I never had to give my weight or what I ate any thought, but in 6th grade, I started skipping breakfast.  I just “didn’t have time” to eat in the mornings.  Harmless enough, you might be thinking, but skipping breakfast turned into skipping lunch…and skipping lunch turned into skipping dinner.  Before I knew it, I was a full-blown anorexic.

 By my freshmen year of high school, I was 5′ 8″ weighing in at a staggering 104lbs (and I thought I was fat!)  I was reduced to eating a  few pieces of fruit a day.  That was it.  I would allow myself to eat fruit and on days when I felt physically weak, I would indulge in a bowl of Ramon Noodles.  I was never the “exercise-until-you-drop” kind of anorexic.  I hated exercise.  I just starved myself because that took little effort on my part.  I took the hunger pangs I felt as a sign of strength.  I could fight through the urge to eat regardless of the pain.  I was actually proud of that.  As I write it now..it makes me ill to realize how sick I was back then.  But at the time, it was all I knew.  

It got to a point where my mom took me to the doctor and they both agreed, if I didn’t start eating immediately, they were going to hospitalize me.  Fortunately, my social life was much too important for me to miss, so I started eating.  And let me tell you, did that food taste good.  It was almost a relief for me to be “forced” into eating.  I was starving!  By the time I reached my senior year of high school, I would hardly say I had a well balanced diet…I lived off of Taco Bell…but I was eating regularly and had my weight up to a healthy 120lbs.  The unfortunate part was that while I did indeed started eating, I never dealt with the underlying self image issues.  I still had serious body image issues, but I can honestly say never chose to starve myself again in an effort to deal with those issues.  

Then life really threw me a curve ball.  I developed extremely severe asthma at the end of my senior year of high school, and I was put on a steroid, prednisone, to help me breathe.  This drug is supposed to be a temporary fix.  It has severe side effects when used long term.  Weight gain is one of the biggest side effects.  What was supposed to be a two-week dose, turned into EIGHT YEARS!! I saw doctor after doctor and every time one of them would wean me off the drug, I would have a severe asthma attack and end up back in the hospital…and back on the medicine.  

After several broken toes, (prednisone makes your bones very fragile) and a substantial amount of weight gain, we finally made a successful attempt to get me off the steroid…albeit, eight years later!  It seemed like some cruel joke.  Let’s give the anorexic chick a drug that will make her fat!  It felt like the powers-that-be were messing with my psyche!  But no matter how big I got, I still felt like I belonged to the rest of my family with the “great genes”.  I still felt like the “skinny” me was inside just crying to get out of the fat body it was trapped in….hence the title of this post…”The Skinny Cow”!  

Moving forward, it has been 15 years since I was put on that horrific medicine.  Although I cannot curse it entirely, it did keep me breathing for many years.  I still carry around most of the weight I gained from being on the drug, and I can only assume that 5 pregnancies have not done me any favors with my weight issues either.  My body image has simply become a daily obsession that is just part of who I am. I don’t think I even obsessed about my weight as an unhealthy anorexic, as I do today as an overweight mother of 5.  

Many women seem to get comfortable as they age with their body image and weight.  They have a sense of confidence about them regardless of what the scales read.  I am NOT one of those women.  I weigh myself daily, sometimes several times a day.  I have tried every diet and diet pill known to man.  Some of them were successful at the time, others were not.  My weight is a yo-yo like you have never seen before.  And right now…it’s up…WAY up…so I am obsessing more than usual.  I freak out on my family if they even think about taking my picture.  I don’t want anyone to document what I look like at this weight.  I get nervous going into public because I am so uncomfortable in my own skin.  I feel like everyone I bump into is thinking, “She would be really pretty if she lost 50 lbs!”  And listening to me talk, you would think I am obese.  While I am not insane enough to post my weight for all to see, I would say I am about 20lbs heavier now than in the picture I have posted on my “About Mother 2 Mother” page.  To me, that 20lbs is the heaviest monkey I have ever carried on my back!

I know…I know…how messed up can I possibly be??!!

Well, I am making progress.  I have come to realize that I have been struggling with my body image for as long as I can remember, and it has to come to an end.  I want to take all the energy I put into obsessing over my weight and stick it into something more worthy…which is part of why I started this blog.  I have decided that there is no easy way around this.  No diet fad or diet pill is going to get me to a healthy weight.  I need to do the work, if I want to see the results.  As cliché as it may sound, it truly is a lifestyle.  I have started filling my kitchen with healthy food options….LOTS of salads….and I have started walking with a friend.  I have to admit, the eating healthy part is much easier for me than the exercise component, but I know the two go hand in hand. 

Regardless of the number on the scale right now, I realize that this game is much more mental than physical.  As long as I can keep my thoughts right, my body is sure to follow.