Judgment Free Zone
So, I’m fat. Not obese fat, but chunky fat. I’ve struggled with weight my entire life. At the age of 2, my mom had to make my clothes because my thighs were that chunky.
Unfortunately (for me), my sister was the complete opposite. She was so thin she’d make an anorexic girl jealous (sorry, was that wrong?).
I was always the fat one and she was always the skinny one. Well, until a few years ago when she gained a ton of weight and was actually heavier than me (is it wrong that I was excited by this?) and then recently lost ALL the weight and looks better than ever. Bitch!
I was constantly reminded of this by my grandparents (my dad’s parents). My grandfather was a doctor and my grandmother was a nurse. And while it was okay for my grandfather to cheat on his wife, it was not okay for his eldest granddaughter to be heavy. I can honestly tell you that I can’t recall a weekend when I was visiting my dad (he lived, and still does, at their house) that at least one comment wasn’t made about my weight.
When I was 13, my mother took a job that required us to relocate. Over the summer, we lived with my grandma (my mom’s mom) and I decided I was going to stop being the fat one. My summer consisted of sun-in and iceberg lettuce salads. And as you can imagine, I lost weight. I made it down to a size 5 (and may even still have the Guess jeans to prove it!) and was thrilled. Me? The fat one, a size 5? It was amazing. I felt amazing.
Until I started s-l-o-w-l-y gaining it back.
I managed to keep it off, for the most part, until college, and by keep it off I mean I was a size 10 or 12. I thought I was H-U-G-E, I mean come on, it was a far cry from the size 5 I was at 13 years old, and it was high school.
I can’t remember exactly how heavy I was, but I do know that my boobs grew like I was a pubescent girl. Gone were my decent (in my opinion) sized girls and scarily replaced with melons.
I continued to struggle over the years with my weight, but I never quite got back down to my size 10-12 from high school.
Around age 20 (give or take a year), I was at my all time heaviest. I look back at pictures of myself and think how the fuck didn’t I realize just how fat I was. I was also in a very unhealthy relationship, which probably had something to do with it.
One of the best decisions I’ve ever made was to call it quits on the unhealthy relationship (God, that was SO hard, but today I wonder why the hell I stayed SO long. I could write SO many stories about the dysfunction in this relationship) and up and moved back home. I wasn’t tucking my tail between my legs moving home (insecure much?) but moving back home to buy a house with my mom and sister so that my brother could stay in his current school. My mom was getting divorced and couldn’t afford to buy a place on her own.
I had no life. No friends. And a job I detested with every fiber of my body. So I started walking. One day I decided I was going to take the 2-dogs for a walk. And it stuck, and I started doing it every day. Eventually I built myself up to the point where I was jogging and I was so proud of myself.
Even better, I discovered ephedrine. Holy shit, that stuff was fantastic. I lost weight just thinking about losing weight. I could eat whatever I wanted (cough, cough, pizza every night) and still lose weight. I got to a point where I looked, and felt amazing once again. I even managed to shed some boobage. I was on top of the world.
Until I started s-l-o-w-l-y gaining it back. Sigh, I miss Xenadrine, the real stuff. The stuff with ephedrine.
So, I started taking it again. Only this time, I had to pretend that I wasn’t. See, my mom also took the ephedrine when I did, but she didn’t have as positive of a reaction. She lost weight however she would get serious heart palpitations and to this day, even though she can’t prove it, she swears it had something to do with her early onset of menopause. I lost weight, but I was scared to take it since this was around the time that all the negative media started coming out about ephedrine. Eventually I quit taking the pills because I was scared to take them.
And, I started s-l-o-w-l-y gaining the weight back. Notice the pattern?
It has now been 8-years since I’ve been at a weight I consider acceptable. It’s been 8 LONG years since I’ve felt good about my body. 8-years of insecurity.
I’ve tried other diet pills with no success.
I’ve done the gym thing. In fact, I currently have a membership to a local gym, not that it does any good since I’ve fallen off that wagon. I think I got burnt out with the working out thing about 8 months ago and have dramatically cut my gym time short since.
However instead of s-l-o-w-l-y gaining the weight back, I’ve started r-a-p-i-d-l-y gaining the fat back. My boobs are bigger. My stomach is fatter. The pouch that was going away returned 10x worse, or so it seems.
And I’m desperate.
So I went to a “weight loss clinic” on Saturday, paid my $75, got a shot of B12 (for energy) and a 30-day supply of Phentermine.
I’m on day 3 of taking it and so far don’t have any significant side effects with the exception of cotton-mouth syndrome. I’m thirsty ALL.THE.TIME. And I have nervous energy. But I can handle both of those. Some of the other side effects concern me however I’ll cross that bridge when or if I get there.
For now though, I’m taking the easy way out. I’m turning to a pill because the diet and exercise thing just wasn’t working for me. When I was consistently working out, I was in great shape, but fat and not happy with my body. I’m hoping that I can once again be confident in my body, and maybe even drag all the clothes from 8-years ago out of the basement and re-introduce them to my wardrobe.
I’m putting this out there because I feel that this is an important story to tell about myself, and this blog seemed like the best vehicle to do so. I know not everyone would agree with my decision to turn to a pill. And to be quite frank, I really don’t care if someone doesn’t agree with my decision. Until you’ve been me or been in my shoes, you have no right to judge or cast stones. But I would certainly hope that anyone who knows or loves me, in real life, would support me, regardless of their opinion(s) regarding decisions I make.
And all I can hope for is a better outside me because right now, the lack of such is hurting the inside me and slowly beating me down and intensifying any insecurities and sense of inadequacy that I already face.
Filed under: losing weight, self therapy | Leave a Comment
hangover or not……
I dragged myself to the gym and did week 3 of the couch to 5k program AND ran/walked an additional 10 laps. In total I went 4 miles. Yay me!
I like to “track” my workout stats for the Couch to 5k (C25K) separate. I don’t really know why, but I guess it has something to do with wanting to see if I’m improving at all (HR decreasing, distance increasing, etc). So, I reset my HRM after C25K so I could isolate the results from each workout.
These are the workout stats for each:
Couch to 5K:
32 minutes
2-1/3 miles
145 Avg HR
268 Calories Burned
Run/Walk:
21 minutes
1-2/3 miles
164 Avg HR
216 Calories Burned
So far I’m off to a great start but the weekdays are ALWAYS the hardest….
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Day 1. Success!
Went to spin this morning, despite trying to tell myself I was too tired and should just go back to bed.
It’s REALLY easy to come up with all sorts of excuses at 4:40am. But I KNEW that if I let myself go back to bed, I’d never break the bad habit of making excuses to skip the gym.
So despite being approximately 10 minutes late to class, I worked out for 48 minutes, had an average heart rate of 153 and burned 444 calories.
Yay me! Hopefully I can continue this trend next week 
Filed under: losing weight | Leave a Comment
I’ve never proclaimed to be a great blogger. Hell, the tag line to this blog is “Life as I know it…when I’m not too lazy to blog about it”. That should be some sort of indicator at my suckiness at blogging.
I won’t lie, I have had a lot going on. Grandma in the hospital. Grandma out of the hospital. Thanksgiving. My Birthday. Grandma back in the hospital. Christmas. New Years.
Damn. I’m getting tired just thinking about how insanely busy I’ve been.
I even had a HUGELY long blog typed out on my blackberry back in mid-December. And then my blackberry ate it and I refused to re-type it. Even though it was great and involved my Grandma saying the word “Fuck”.
So yeah. I’m going to try to make an honest effort at blogging. Again.
Seriously!
Actually, I’m thinking about using my blog to hold me accountable to exercising. For about a year and a half, I was ALL about the gym. Now, I’m pathetically lazy and tired and find every excuse in the book to avoid it.
Tomorrow, no more excuses. I’m not paying for these damn spin classes for me not to go. I’m not necessarily putting on weight nor am I losing it though but I AM getting fatter and I am NOT okay with that.
So, yeah. I’m using the blog to put it out there for the world to see, and laugh and point fingers at me when I am pathetic and ditch out on the gym. Rarely should I have a legitimate excuse. So when I have a lame ass excuse, call me out. Laugh at me. Call me names. Point fingers. Whatever. I’m hoping maybe ridicule will help!
So, starting tomorrow, I’m going to make an honest effort of at least putting my gym or lack of time out here. I have spin tomorrow at 5:30am. And as of right now, there is nothing that should count as a legitimate excuse, and as much as I’d love to claim “being tired” as a legitimate excuse, it just doesn’t cut it.
I’m off. It’s probably a good idea to at least get a little work done before I have to leave to go get my dreaded allergy shot.
Peace out, yo.
Filed under: losing weight, nothing in particular, Uncategorized | Leave a Comment
I don’t stalk!
I’m not a stalker of Post Secret but I follow it in my Google Reader. I don’t wait up till the new secrets are posted on Sunday or check it first thing Monday morning. There may be a few weeks of secrets accumulated before I actually get to reading them. But, I do always read them.
And there was this video.
And I liked it.
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Vampire-Killer
Every week, I make dinner and bring it to my grandparents insert your “AWWWWWH” here. I’ve had a whole roaster chicken in my deep freeze for a while now so I wanted to get rid of it. Plus, I need to make something that will feed 5 people, and a whole chicken fits that category.
I decided to try a recipe I stumbled across a while back…Crockpot 40-cloves of garlic chicken. This is the recipe:
2 sprigs fresh thyme
2 sprigs fresh rosemary
2 sprigs fresh sage
2 sprigs Italian parsley
1-4 lb. whole broiler/fryer chicken
2 stalks celery
40 cloves garlic, unpeeled
Layer the bottom of the crockpot with the celery and carrot pieces. Clean/rinse-off the chicken and remove giblets, etc. Stuff 1-sprig of thyme, rosemary, sage and Italian parsley and 4 unpeeled garlic into the chicken cavity. Seal the chicken cavity with 1-potato quarter. Put the chicken on top of the carrots and celery. Put the remaining garlic and potatoes in the crockpot. Chop up the remaining herbs and sprinkle over the chicken. Do not add any liquid. Serve the chicken with the potatoes, carrots, celery and garlic surrounding it.
Garlic Basil Butter – Serve with French bread
4 tbl softened butter
1 tsp dried basil
5 garlic cloves (from the chicken after it’s cooked)
Personally, I thought this recipe was okay. Not great, but not awful. I think the reason that it was just okay was because I made it on Sunday, but didn’t serve it until Monday. The chicken was unbelievably tender (falling off the bones!) but yet it was slightly dry. The garlic basil butter was A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!
According to my grandmother, “there was too much garlic”, “next time I shouldn’t use so much garlic”, “oh the name of the recipe is 40 cloves of garlic chicken? That’s why it tastes so garlicy”.
My motto however is that everything is better with garlic, so of course I LOVED the flavor.
My worthless piece of shit father walked in about 15 minutes into us eating dinner and looked at the plate I made for him and said “Oh. I don’t like chicken. I like beef and steak but not chicken. You always make chicken. That’s why I eat before I get here”. FUCK OFF is what I replied with in my head and vocally said ”well, I make whatever I have time for, what I have in my deep freeze or whatever is cheap. Sorry”.
Seriously. You’re going to rip apart the meal I cooked the night before and brought for you? The same meal I prepared because I know not having to worry about cooking dinner one night a week is a huge help?
I feel so under-appreciated.
My mom tells me that I shouldn’t bother but I have this insane guilt complex and know that I’m helping. My other grandma (my mom’s mom) would “oooooh and agggggh” over a plate of dog food if I brought it for her.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve always received criticism from my dad’s side of the family; you’re getting a little chunky ‘eh?, don’t add so much salt to your potato soup, maybe you shouldn’t be so busy?, you shouldn’t workout so much, that’s what happens when you get older, etc etc etc.
The criticism gets old. It’s hard to bite my tongue. But I do my best. It’s not easy though.
Damn my family is fucked up.
Filed under: father, infamous rants, self therapy | Leave a Comment
Big, HUGE, Oopsie
Last night I had one of the biggest scares of my life…
Apparently when I left the house in the morning, I forgot to shut and/or lock the cage for this monster:
I use the term monster loosely because in actuality, he is my baby. Don’t even think I’m kidding. This bird is more spoiled than you can even imagine.
So, back to the story.
On Sunday, we were heading to my moms to have a Thanksgiving after Thanksgiving YUM, mom’s cooking!. My husband was being a bit of a douche and said that if we weren’t out of the house by 10:30am, he wasn’t going clearly this led to a fight but that’s a story for another day.
Due to a few things primarily my utter lack of being able to plan and have no sense of time I wasn’t quite on track for said 10:30am departure. As the clock clicked closer and closer to 10:30am, I became more and more frazzled. And in addition to forgetting to bring tupperware containers to moms (for leftovers of course!), I forgot my work laptop (and I NEEDED to work on some stuff for today) and also forgot to shut and/or lock the birds cage.
As always, the first thing I did when we got home at 9:30pm was to say hi to the cats and go into the birds bedroom I told you he was my baby! to go get him. I walk into the bedroom and his cage door is WIDE open. SHIT.
I quickly scan the room, now already fearing the worst what power cord did he chomp through and get electrocuted with, etc. and don’t see him and start to panic, and I mean PANIC. I quickly holler for my husband who HATES the bird. I did say HATE, right? and MAKE him go into the bedroom and look for him. Precisely 1.5 seconds after he walks into the bedroom, I hear a sigh deep down I know he was hoping that my worst fear and his fantasy had come true and the confirmation that ALL IS OKAY thank the baby jesus!
Apparently, during my quick scan of the room, I neglected to look at his sleep cage What? I told you he was my baby! and see that he was sitting in that cage. I mean really, why would you want to hang out in the cage that is 36″ deep by 48″ wide and 60″+ high when you can chill in a 24″ deep by 24″ wide by 30″ high cage instead? Silly me.
Thankfully, he he did not destroy ANYTHING, and he is very capable of turning that entire room into a pile of shredded wood. He didn’t touch a thing. Not my fake Uggs that were sitting on the floor he has an infatuation with shoes, not the wood trim, or any of the furniture or even the the oodles of wrapped Christmas presents!
Sigh. I still panic just thinking about it.
So, yeah. Clearly I suck and am so fortunate that it ended well. This was a a big huge oops on my part. And really just need to tell my husband to quit being a douche and not be a jackass about leaving 5minutes late be more careful in the future.
Filed under: "the bird" | Leave a Comment
Apparently I’m 13
I just downloaded this ringtone. And I had to find THIS cut because my favorite part of the song is
I’m talking about – everybody getting crunk, crunk
Boys trying to touch my junk, junk
Gonna smack him if he getting too drunk, drunk
Like I said. I’m obviously a 13 year old kid again.
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Want to win some PUMPKIN BREAD?
All things G&D is having a Watkins Pumpkin Bread Giveaway. Check it out or not because I want to win! http://allthingsgd.blogspot.com/2009/11/watkins-pumpkin-bread-giveaway.html
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Things I’m NOT thankful for…
In a reverse Thanksgiving kinda way, I’m creating a things I not thankful for list:
1. My Father
2. My Grandmother being in the hospital
3. My husband being sick
4. The headache I’ve had all day
5. Asshole coworkers on a power trip
6. Spending 6+ hours in the kitchen last night, preparing meals for my grandfather
7. That it is dark at 4:26pm
8. Facebook being blocked at work
9. Not getting home till 10pm’ish tonight
10. Having to work on Thursday
I’m just a bundle of happiness and joy, ‘eh?
Filed under: infamous rants | Leave a Comment
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