Jacqui (jacqui) wrote,
Jacqui
jacqui



My food, or my eating, has been really off lately. Little by little I've discovered that I can have small amounts of things I thought would make me sick. I think this is the normal course of things for weight loss surgery patients but I don't want to go down this road. I'm so thrilled with my weight loss, so happy with this new body and how much better I feel, (in some ways), that I don't want to lose these gains I've made or wait, maybe that should be the other way around ; )

Anyway I'm hovering around 203 and I'm just dying to get under 200 for the first time in ten billion years. I'm lucky in that I carry my weight really well so I always look about twenty pounds thinner than I am so no one but you and my doctors know I weigh this much. When I was at my fattest, a whopping 325, (please don't be hurt by this if you're a lush sized person, I mean no harm by my use of the word whopping, I love everyone, male, female, big, small, human, animal or goldfish), I didn't have a clue that I had crossed over the terrifying 300 LB threshold, not a clue. I had stopped weighing myself years before after reading an empowering article in BBW magazine about not allowing nurses in doctor's offices to force us to weigh in for something like an eye exam.
As kind and supportive as this magazine was, as much as it helped me learn to love myself exactly as I was, and this was certainly something I needed to do, the not weighing myself wasn't the best plan in the world for someone like me. It's easy to just look at yourself from the neck up while you pile on the pounds below. At my fattest I wasn't even seeing the weight I'd put on around my face unless I was forced to confront how big I'd gotten in a photo and even then I could always think, well, that's just a really bad picture. What would completely freak me out was when someone else would look at one of these pictures where I thought I looked like a monster and say something like, "Hey, now that's a good picture of you." Oh my God what did that mean, that that was what I really looked like on a good day? Impossible, back into the land of denial for me.

Now when I look at these pictures of myself from less than just a year ago I can't believe the person staring back at me is me, just can't believe it, and conversely I don't recognize the person I see in pictures I take now. Who is this thinner but older looking person with wrinkles I never knew I had?

It's getting harder to lose the weight now. I need to step up everything, more protein, more water, walking, walking, walking, and then yoga and Pilates. I have to stop snacking and organize my meals. It's really the same thing I needed to do when I first hit this weight years ago, only it should be easier for me now that my stomach is so much smaller and there's the, I will barf factor, if I eat anything with too much sugar or too many carbs. Yesterday I ate for macaroon cookies that Beau had left in my room and I was so sick, cured me of my desire for my favorite cookie, well, for now at least.

Anyway I've got tons of things to do and I'm just blabbing away here. I went shopping yesterday at Bloomingdales because they had this great 20% off sale and Beau and I needed to buy clothes for Thanksgiving dinner with Mom. The weird thing about my money relationship with my Mother is that she will release some funds for things she wants me to do, like buy Beau a coat and tie for Thanksgiving at her club so he looks nice, even then she was really crazy about this, saying to come over and get the money one minute and then changing her mind and acting as if we'd never had this conversation the next, but she won't help me out with things I really need. It's so complicated and I hate talking about it because I just don't want to be judged here by people who might just be browsing my journal without knowing the full story.

I bought Irma and Esther and myself Ugh boots a couple of months ago before they suddenly became so popular that even the waiting lists have waiting lists, I'm serious about this, but Beau stole mine one day when he couldn't find his gross stinky tennis shoes and now I definitely don't want them back. I've been trying to find some because they're so comfortable and warm in the cold but they're just gone. It's fine though because I always feel guilty when I buy anything made from animals and these are sheep, cute, sweet, little sheepies, so it's just as well that I can't get any.

Okay off I go to update my Netflix account. I finally found a couple of DVDs I've had out for a year and want to update my rental list so that when I send them in they won't send back something I've already seen about ten times. Then I have to go to the market and go to Mom's to model the clothes we bought. All I really want to do is sleep or make art, that and eat or knit, the eating and sleeping part isn't such a good plan. Maybe I should take contrary action and go for a walk. What do you think?

Anyone want to take my headache for a few days, either that or go to the dentist for me?

Hugs,
Jac
XOXOXOXO

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