You know what this world needs? One more thirty-something blogger writing about her weight issues.
I’ve been on a starve-binge cycle for most of my life. Growing up, the general attitude around my house always seemed to be that becoming fat was inevitable. My parents weren’t fat, but that didn’t mean I could avoid my fate. There was no sugar cereal allowed in our house, no soda. I spent years terrified of turning into my aunts and grandma. They are big women. Rotund. At 10, and a size one, I believed with all my heart that I was huge. I started dieting when I was 12 (and a size 5) to fight what I considered my weight destiny.
By 16 I starved myself most of the time. My normal food for a day included a bag of baby carrots and a handful of saltine crackers. When I was 17, I was required by my biology teacher to list a day’s food intake for a project. I lied and added what I believed was a normal amount of food to my list (because I was scared of being fat- not stupid. I knew what I was eating was wrong. I just didn’t care.). I still received my paper back with a bright red note telling me to eat more. Nobody noticed my rapid weight loss because I would punctuate it with outrageous binges that would buoy me back up. Really, I was a terrible anorexic. Despite starving myself, I never weighed less that 125. For my height that’s underweight but not by much.
By 19 I was better- I would eat at least one “normal” meal a day (a plate of chicken. Yep- that’s it. Normal, right?) . I considered myself cured. Sometimes I would get fed up of being hungry all the time and start eating. I’ve spent the last 18 years bouncing between binge eating and starvation dieting. After Bright was born, I lived off a can of soup a day until I was an acceptable size again. After Star was born I Weight Watched myself back to my high school weight. Weight Watchers works- if you stick to the actual program. When the weight loss plateaued, I adjusted my points lower. And then lower again.
But it’s okay, right? Because I was doing Weight Watchers. That’s a national program. I’m not starving myself- I’m Watching my Weight. I’m hungry all the time, but that’s only because watching your weight makes you hungry. Does that sound cured to you? Yeah- me either.
My Mom often tells me I was born with curves. I was. There is no denying it. I am one curvy bitch. I’ve got wide hips, a round butt and big boobs. I’ve accepted the fact that I am never going to fit my butt into a size 6. So when I start to think about weight loss, why do I always stop eating? A month ago, I did it again. A week of starvation, punctuated by a day of binge eating. I lost a couple of pounds, which always serves to reinforce the cycle. It is so engraved into my brain that I don’t realize I am doing it. I just do.
Until two weeks ago. Two weeks ago, I thought about the cycle for a while. I realized it wasn’t really working for me. Sure, I was thin when I stopped eating, but what happens when I start eating again? I’m just going to be back where I started. I decided to try something else. I started eating. Every three hours, I eat small meals. Not snacks, not baby carrots, meals. Meals made of protein, carbs and a fruit or veggie. I’m not hungry, I’m not full, and I’m still losing weight. Two weeks ago, I weighed 160. Today I weigh 157. It’s not miracle weight loss, but it is a miracle to me.
I am not better. I know this. I need to pay attention to my Crazy. I need to make sure I keep eating, even when I plateau. Last Monday night, I ate a plate of lime chips and cheese. Then I ate another. Then I ate two bowls of cereal. The next day I made up for it by not eating anything. It took me until Wednesday to realize what I was doing. I’m putting this here as a reminder, as a warning to myself. Now there are people that know I am not better. Starving myself isn’t a funny little piece of my history. It’s my now and it’s probably not going away any time soon. I’ve lied before to hide it. I’ve rationalized my behaviors to make it sound better than it really is. But now you know the truth. Maybe just knowing that you know will keep me in line.
That’s the plan anyway. We’ll see how it works out.