Weighty matters…

When I first started gaining weight, I treated it like a fluke. Nothing had changed diet or exercise wise and soon the gain would stop and I’d go back to normal. Except it didn’t stop. One day my pants fit like usual then I couldn’t pull them up at all. The gain was rapid and relentless. By the time it stopped I’d gained 47lbs, all in half a year.

Emma took a video of me singing “Stay” at karaoke last night and I didn’t even recognize myself. Even my face has changed dramatically. I hate the way I look now. I miss my old self.

If I followed societies narrative, I’d be doing anything I could to lose weight. Restrictive diets, extreme exercise. Even medicine fueled weight gain must come off eventually. That’s how success happens, right?

I see the videos and before and after pictures of smiling, happy people… finally proud in their new skin. I also know the failure rate and the struggle and this is when I say “fuck it”.

Our society teaches us to shrink ourselves in so many ways. Physically is just one of them and from now on I’m refusing to shrink.

My Facebook flashback today showed a past me who bragged about only eating one crepe at work and I brought my own diet syrup so I could save 20 extra calories. This was a once only experience where our store owners came in and made crepes and pancakes, complete with whipped cream and strawberries… and I refused an extra crepe so I could lose weight. I didn’t by the way.

We only have one life to live and I refuse to live it in an endless cycle of trying to lose weight so society likes me more. And endless cycle of saying no and praising myself for punishing my body.

I will eat healthy food, exercise to keep myself limber, and treat myself when I need some kindness. And I will accept that I am no longer a size medium, average woman.

Maybe someday I’ll be that size medium woman again but I doubt it. I’m on too many psychiatric medications (including Abilify and Lithium, which are known for weight gain). I have a feeling the only way to lose this weight, other than starvation, is stopping the meds… which are keeping me alive. That’s not an option.

My life was not meant to be scenery. I was always more than a pretty face and now I’ll show it.

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Jeremy’s going to starve…

Well not really, although I’m sure he feels like he is. Jeremy and I have opposing views on what constitutes a decent meal. Jeremy’s idea of a decent meal is two boxes of Kraft Dinner, or a tin of canned beef and potatoes, or canned ravioli, or those cup of soups. Preferably followed by a bag of potato chips and a handful of cookies. My idea of a decent meal consists of a home cooked dinner with plenty of fresh veggies followed by fresh fruit and some dark chocolate.

Unfortunately for Jeremy, I’m the one with the paycheque. I’ve been trying to buy him a few treats to scatter throughout the week, including a 1.13kg can of beef ravioli which I figured would last him for a couple of meals. He ate it for a snack. So I’m only buying healthy food now. If you hear moans and wails over the next few weeks, don’t worry, it’s just Jeremy.

I’m also trying to get Jeremy out of the apartment and active.  He spends far too much time parked in front of the computer, which isn’t healthy. He jokes he’s a nerd and doesn’t need exercise but I’ve seen him get winded running to the bus stop right outside our building. That’s not good. A few years ago, he was outside almost constantly but now he won’t go out anywhere without me. My original plan was to take him for a bike ride on one of our wooded trails then I looked at our forecast. Severe thunderstorm watch. We had the same forecast yesterday and ended up with near constant lightning and torrential rain. So we walked to the grocery store instead, taking a detour to go through a nearby green space.

We were walking toward a little bridge when I noticed the man walking toward us. Well, I noticed the baby stroller first and then the man and finally his expression. It wasn’t a happy look, in fact he was glaring. His eyes were aimed to the left of me at Jeremy. I took a quick glance myself and realized Jeremy was doing nothing other than fiddle with his netbook. I figured the man was staring at Jeremy’s hair, which has faded to a pinkish violet, but his gaze was lower. He was almost to us when I realized he was staring at my seventeen year old son’s chest. Granted Jeremy’s a bit busty but that’s downright creepy. Thankfully Jeremy didn’t notice, I’m having a hard enough time getting him out of the house as it is.

It’s calling for sunshine and actual summer weather tomorrow so I’m going to drag Jeremy out for a bike ride. Jeremy’s been asking when we’re going to go back to the ocean (aka Lake Ontario). We can even pack a picnic lunch. With any luck, after a long hot bike ride, Jeremy won’t even notice it’s healthy food 🙂