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| April 2012- 158 pounds |
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| August 2010- 181 pounds |
This morning I was overjoyed when my scale read 158 in those sweet red numbers that have been on my side since I arrived here in Marshall. The last few days have been a struggle for me. Attempting to feel my feelings instead of eating them has been difficult to say the least. Having Carol & Carl leave was emotional for me. I had missed having connections. I had missed visiting, laughing & telling stories that poor Josh has heard a hundred times...
But I was able to persevere, journal, do my ab workouts and hit (!!!) my mark a few days early. I am feeling pretty happy with my progress, and am hopeful to be in the low 150's by the time we head home. During my bit of struggle (the kind way to say that I ate two entire Lindt chocolate bars...) I decided I needed some motivation. So I went through our computer photo folders to find pictures of myself at my heaviest. The pictures hurt me physically to look at. Even as I type about them, my eyes are welling with tears. I was so unhappy then. I felt so broken.
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August 2010 was supposed to be a time for celebrating. I was supposed to become a stay-at-home mom. Josh had graduated from the teaching program in June, and after leaving my precious boys for two years, the plan was for Josh to teach and for me to finally quit my job, and be home where my heart was. After multiple interviews & countless resumes (even to Texas & North Dakota) no job was found. It was right around when this picture was taken that the harsh reality of heading back to Lincoln in the fall was sinking in.
I knew that leaving the twins for a third school year would break me. I knew that I wasn't strong enough to handle that kind of devastation. I wasn't prepared to miss more milestones, more moments... I was ready to stay home.
So I ate.
...Nachos, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Cheetoh's, Tillamook Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream by the bowlful. The more I could consume, the better able I was to shut off my emotions. Before I knew it I was driving to work, listening to JJ Heller's "Back Home" and crying the whole way. (For a flashback on that time, check out this post.)
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I remember when I saw the picture above, taken of me (& Logan, who was cropped out) at Cougar where my family has camped annually for as long as I can remember, I was shocked... Stunned... Mortified... I had paraded my fat butt all around the water hole, chasing my two toddling towheads, thinking I was this adorable mom. I was in serious denial about what I had been doing to my body.
And now, looking back, it makes me sad. It makes me sad because my body deserved better, and it makes me sad because I was wrong. I was strong enough. Leaving those boys didn't break me. I was bigger than the pain.
I wasn't made for leaving my children. And doing so for two and a half years was one of the hardest things I have ever done, but I have discovered lately that I can do hard things. I have done hard things. And so when this weight loss journey (and feeling my feelings instead of eating them) proves difficult, I will just take the next right step, and know that I can do this, too.
