I’ve come to realise at 46 and around 25 stone that it’s time to do something. I have children, I don’t want them burying me because I couldn’t take control of myself. I don’t want to miss out on anymore of life with them because I’m ashamed to go out in public.
I got this way through the usual excuses… illness, depression that’s true but on top of that heap laziness, denial and self induced depression because the fatter I got the more depressed I got.
Not any more this is going to be taken in hand and it all starts now… not Monday, not after Easter, but now.
I’ve always yo-yo’d throughout my life, I’ve never been anywhere near this big. 20 stone was a definite threshold I was never going over… but I did.
Don’t berate me, I hate myself enough already, I know what I am and what I’m not and I’ve got a response to any argument that says I’m a waste of space or an unworthy human so save it.
This blog is about me healing myself, because I am sick, this is a disease, I’m obese, morbidly obese and I’m doing something about it.
I’m going to map my journey and share my thoughts on how I got here and how I’m not going back and you might be surprised to find out things about me along the way, I’m not a stereotypical fat lazy sloth of a gal, I’m not ignorant, I’m not on benefits, I’m not a useless parent, I’ve not always been this way and I’m determined to not be this way for much longer.
I can’t find scales to weigh myself on so we’re not having a weight, I’m going to chart my journey in pictures but they will only be uploaded at the end of each 6 months, although I will take them every month. That can be my first target; to lose enough weight for the scale to cope with me then we can stop guessing and start using real numbers. In the meantime we’ll chart my progress with physical changes I see and feel in myself, with comments from other people and in the improvement of my overall mental well being.
I have no long term target. I want to be fit and healthy and I want fitness to be a part of my life forever. If I was to set a long term target it would be to feel comfortable in a smart work suit and heels again and not feel like I was strapped into a straight jacket or that my arms had been surgically shortened due to the restriction of the fabric stretched across my fat back.
I want to wear a bra without it cutting into me and my fat spilling over the top. I want to move easily and not panic when I drop something on the ground. I don’t want to break into a sweat climbing one flight of stairs I don’t want to hurt from hauling my fat ass from the lounge to the kitchen. I don’t want to worry about waking up again in the morning when I go to bed at night and my kids finding me dead.
No one wants that, not even a fat lazy lump like me.
It starts now… I tell you more tomorrow.