I have been overweight for almost my entire life. When I look back at photos from my childhood, I can see the weight begin to show in my face and body around age 6. The weight continued to pile on as I moved through my school years and by the time I graduated from high school I was 5'2", 180 pounds and wearing a size 18.
Now I'm 36 years old. As of a week ago, I weigh 251 pounds and wear a size 24 or 26 depending on the item. I have Type II diabetes. I take medicine for both high blood pressure and high cholesterol. My triglycerides are off the charts at 363. Just typing that makes me nauseous and want to cry.
I have been "doing" Weight Watchers for about a year and I've lost 8.8 pounds. I lost as much as 18 pounds but have continued to yo-yo around and currently my total is less than 10 pounds. Of course the women in my meeting say, "It's better than gaining 10 pounds this year!" While this is definitely true, I have come to acknowledge that I have not really been doing Weight Watchers for a year. I've done it a day or two or even a week at a time and my results show my lack of commitment to the program. I know it works, the meeting room is full of success stories, but you have to commit and work the program.
The problem, really, is my inability to really and truly commit to a healthy lifestyle. I want to lose weight. I want to be thin. I want to Rollerblade with my daughter. I want to ice skate with my husband. I want to hike a mountain (a small mountain!) with my friend. Doesn't that all sound like great fun? Who wouldn't want to do these things?
But what do I do instead? Sneak into the kitchen late at night and eat 4 large chocolate chip cookies. And then I cry all alone in the dark because I've failed yet again. I've been there so many times - it's misery in it's purest form and yet the cycle continues.
Until now...
Recently my father was diagnosed with cancer. Although it's highly treatable and his prognosis is good, I have been dealing with the idea that my beloved father is a mere mortal and there will come a time when I will lose him. I have been devastated by this realization and have found it hard to concentrate on much else during recent weeks. Some point this past week, I found myself daydreaming (is "daynightmaring" a thing cause that was definitely more like it...)and contemplating what life might be like without my Dad nearby. It dawned on me, at that moment, that there was something even bigger at stake and I was willfully ignoring it.
The truth is, I am killing myself with cheeseburgers and Cokes and chocolate caramel popcorn. I don't have a tumor quietly attacking me from the inside out. I am making the choice to open my mouth and eat food that is, quite literally, killing me.
How can I do this to myself? How can I kill my father's daughter as he fights to save his own life? How can I allow my daughter to be orphaned so I can stuff my face full of cookies? How can I allow my husband to become a widower at 38 so I can drink that Coke?
The answer is: I can't. I simple can not allow this to continue another day. I must take action and change so that I can protect my Dad, my precious daughter, and my loving husband.
Today I am beginning again for the final time.
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