Who/When

Yesterday was, of course, Halloween.  I took a photo with my niece and posted it on Facebook.  I've mentioned that I'm fairly private, so this journey isn't something I've talked about there at all.  As these things go, there's a lot of people there I don't see very often, and I got some kind comments about how I look right now.

It's strange... I know that I've lost weight.  I know that I feel better, and that when I look in the mirror, I feel more positive about what I see there.  But knowing these things and realizing them aren't the same, I guess.

I looked at that photo for a long time.  I kept looking at it, and eventually I realized that it's because I don't see myself as "her".  Our faces should be the most familiar thing in the world to ourselves, but when I look at that photo... I don't feel like it's me.

I haven't ever touched upon this before, because it feels like no matter how I phrase it, it comes off as "bragging" and that is the absolute last thing I want.  But... I do realize that I have been immensely lucky on this journey so far.  I know that this is work, that it didn't just "happen", but reading blogs makes it crystal clear that our bodies are all so different, and that there are people who work so hard and do not see results that equal their efforts.  I have lost pretty quickly, and I wonder if that's part of the reason I feel so... disconnected from where I am right now.

Shortly after I started this journey, I was sick enough to go to the doctor.  I remember that I had been working hard at this for a few weeks, had lost maybe 15 lbs, and felt good.  I felt different, you know?  My clothes were starting to be baggier, etc.

She asked how much I weighed, and I lied and said something in the 190s.  It sounded better to me than slightly over 200, which is where I actually was.  I felt OK saying it, like I didn't feel OK saying the truth.  I felt a bit proud of myself, because I was healthier than I had been.  And then she took out the blood pressure cuff, and it was the XL size.

That little thing was an emotional blow to me.  She was very nice and didn't mention my weight at all, but... well, that said a lot.  Why do I share this slightly painful and embarrassing story?  Because... I actually am under 200 lbs now, I'm not just pretending it.  Because 190 slipped by, and then 180, and so on, but somehow none of those numbers feel as "real" as that, as the day I reached the weight I said I was.  And I wondered, does it match how I feel inside now? 

The other day, I went to the grocery store to pick up Halloween candy for the house.  I felt the old, terrible urge to pick up something for myself too, by which I mean something to secretly binge on.  I didn't.  I bought my fruits and veggies and went to the car, and after I buckled my seat belt I saw a very overweight woman across the lane...  but back to this in a moment.

Last week, I was with someone and they made a comment about someone's weight.  It wasn't... overt, or vicious.  If it had been I want to believe I would have said something.  It was just "stating it" in a way, I guess.  But I can't remember someone saying anything like that in front of me before, for the obvious reason.  And it just made me so sad.

No one wants to be addicted to food any more than they "want" to have an alcohol or drug addiction.  But some of us are, and we struggle, and we damage our bodies and our self-esteems with it, and we may or may not be able to find the strength and courage and willpower to fight it before it overcomes us in some way.

That's what I think about when I see others that are seriously overweight.  When I looked at this woman in the parking lot, and our eyes met for a moment, I felt (whether this is accurate or not) the understanding of someone else struggling with the same thing.  Because a handful of chips or the occasional slice of cake don't bring you to that point.  For the most part, neither obesity or health are "incidental".  They are the result of daily choices we make, and have made.

Most of me is the same exact person inside that I was when I weighed 240 lbs.  The biggest difference is that I am really fighting my addiction now... but I am still an addict inside.

I have some stuff coming up, as I've mentioned, little goals to motivate me.  An event here, a trip there, etc.  But I still find myself thinking, when can I binge again?  When those are over?  And I just hope with everything in me that I have the strength then to say no, that I will find new goals and keep going.  It's not "never", right now.  It's "later", which is certainly better than "now", but... it needs to be never, and I'm not there yet.  Will I be, one day?

I wonder when I will feel like I'm a real "weight loser".  Because right now, I can say I've lost weight, but it still feels everyday like it might just be temporary.  When will I want to eat healthy more than I want to eat comforting, addictive crap?  When will I want to exercise more than not?

When will I look at a photo and recognize myself?

I don't know.  Who/when?  But I do believe that we learn something by the asking, and by our attempts to figure it out.  Every day, every meal.  I struggle, but I am fighting one day at a time.

I ate well today.  I'm still sick, and exercise-resting.  I drank my water.  I read, commented, and posted.  I'm trying to be healthy, and trying to figure it out.

Don't give up.  Never give up.  Keep trying.