Here we go again . . .

I feel like I did as a young person growing up Catholic when I hadn't been to confession in a long time. Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned . . .  Well, forgive me, readers (if you're really out there) for I have been absent. I posted a book review fairly recently, but other than that, I have basically left my blog to the crickets. Cue chirpping.

I was on a roll for a while, posting a few blogs a week, most of which focused on my ongoing, lifelong struggle with weight, and my latest effort to get rid of the extra that I carry around. I think it helped the process of losing to write about it. It gave me some sense of accountability and I was seeing success. But then a friend sent me a private note reminding me that I am much more than my weight. That I have so much to offer and to write about, and I should consider expanding my blog beyond just weight-related topics. I heard what he said, and decided there was truth to it. Besides, I'd been doing so well, perhaps I didn't need to go on and on about the struggle involved in trying to shed over a hundred pounds. The odd thing is, I stopped blogging about it, and over time, lost focus, and ultimately began gaining back the weight I'd lost.

At my peak, I weighed 257 pounds. There. I've said it. You have no idea how scary and embarrassing it is to see the number typed here on the page. How everything in me wants to go back and delete it and simply hint at it rather than face it. For now, I'll leave it there. We'll see if I have the guts to post it.

When I was blogging and losing last year, I had gotten down to 236 (the last time I went to the doctor). I told my doctor that when I saw him again in 6 months, I'd be under 200. He was thrilled with my progress and said, "This is the most optimistic I've ever been about your health." I was floating on air when I left his office. In the years he's been my primary care physician, he has heard me lament my angst over my weight. He has suggested bariatric surgery, which I couldn't afford and my insurance didn't cover. He suggested hypnosis, but I have a personal aversion to it, so not an option. He has asked me to walk 30 minutes a day. Yeah well . . . that didn't happen. So for the first time, I felt like I had finally turned the corner and was on the right track.
Taken June, 2013 with my grandson, Spencer. Not my highest. Argh!

21 pounds down. Not a huge amount considering how much I want/need to lose. But a respectable beginning. I was even a little cocky; remember, I thought I had this.

That was then. This is now. I stepped on the scale this morning, and the number that stared back at me was 249. That's as close as I want to get to my all-time high. That's enough. After the past 2 days of Thanksgiving gluttony, I knew I had to face the scale sooner or later. And it had better be sooner rather than later! Not that I didn't have a clue. Oh heck yes, I knew it wasn't going to be pretty.

Remember my wedding band? The one I hadn't been able to wear for so long, that I had finally gotten comfortably back into? Haven't worn it in months. Too tight.

All those clothes that had been getting loose on me? That's a thing of the past. My clothes have been slowly shrinking for months as well.

Here's a sad confession: I was supposed to go to that 6-month check-up - the one at which I would weigh under 200 pounds - back in September. I rescheduled it for November. And I rescheduled that one for January. So I have that to look forward to. A little more than a month from now, I will step on the scale in my doctor's office again. I'd prefer not to be 13 pounds heavier than the last time I was there. I'd settle for weighing the same when I make my confession about the previous 9-10 months.

Because I cannot imagine living the rest of my life at this weight, because let's face it . . . it probably wouldn't be as long as I'd like . . . I'm grabbing myself by the collar and trying again. And I'll go back to using the tools that worked well for me. I will blog here regularly, and I'll track myself on ( As for my well-meaning friend . . . I adore him still, and hold no ill will against him. He was showing how much he cared when he suggested I write about all of who I am, not just about my weight. He is right. I am more than the number on the scale.

But for now, I need to focus my attention and energies on overcoming this fire-breathing dragon that has kept me imprisoned for almost 45 years. I will someday be able to lose the focus on my girth, as I lose my girth. Then I will relish the opportunities to write about anything and everything that interests me. The one exception to writing solely about weight loss, will be the occasional book review. This is my outlet for expression, so it is also my outlet for talking about books.

So, there we are. Beginning again. In my heart I know I was meant to be a petite woman. I want to find her, that petite woman. And give her a chance to really live.

Until next time . . .

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