The Albatross
VIP Member
Got on the scale this morning and hit my goal weight: 160 pounds. I lost had lost about 35 pounds after a prolonged illness where I was treated with a boatload of steroids. I went from 145 to 208 in about 12 weeks during the worst of the course of treatment now more than 11 years ago. With rehabilitation exercises and dietary changes and eliminating a lot of the foods I found out I was allergic to (allergies were diagnosed after the illness), I managed to get down and stay at 175 for about 5 years and maintain it unless I took runs at a nicotine quit.
Then my weight would balloon to 185 and I'd hit the panic button and stick a cigarette in my mouth. Last year I got off of the plateau, but my weight would bounce around whether or not I was trying to quit smoking.
My previous best was 163, and every time I would approach 175, I'd get back on the wagon and focus on the weight loss, ditching the nicotine quit.
I am petrified of gross obesity as both my mother and mother-in-laws life has been very difficult. When I was in my 20's and early 30's I had an eating disorder and was under weight for most of that time. It was after my date rape and boss stalker. My weight dropped to 98, 102, and 100 pounds three times in my 20's. In my 30's severe depression fueled another drop and I was 92 pounds at 5'6" with a medium frame. I was diagnosed with anemia 3 times in the military and was "ordered" to sign in to the chow hall and eat. (I don't think I every talked about that in my diary.) I think looking back now it had to do with control. Trying to control something in my life and it was my own body.
The weight and changes in my body from the steroids made it harder for me to work through my sense of self worth after alcoholism, prolonged illness with agoraphobia... at that time I didn't know yet that I had PTSD.
So today, after many years, I reached my goal weight. It has been a very long time coming. I am resisting the urge to reset the goal for another 10 pounds. I am trying to focus more on how I physically feel and try to give myself a day or so to celebrate achieving the goal.
I didn't do it in the way I wanted to. I really wanted to be nicotine free as well. But all in due time my mister says. He is probably right. He just very calmly tells me "It will happen, don't be too hard on yourself."
I am stealing some glances in the mirror. I am starting to recognize myself again. Though my hair is grayer, though my skin turgor is changing because at 53 the collagen is breaking down, and even though the effects of gravity are causing my former cheeks to slide down my face toward my jawline... I am starting to like more what I see in the mirror. Aging or not I think that my body image is about as close as I am going to get to experience of "before".
Before I got ill. Before the sexual traumas and subsequent eating disorder. Before I got obese. Before I got agoraphobia. Before I was an alcoholic. Before I knew I had apnea, allergies, ADD/ADHD, PTSD. I am feeling good about that today and I hope you folks will be happy with me.
Then my weight would balloon to 185 and I'd hit the panic button and stick a cigarette in my mouth. Last year I got off of the plateau, but my weight would bounce around whether or not I was trying to quit smoking.
My previous best was 163, and every time I would approach 175, I'd get back on the wagon and focus on the weight loss, ditching the nicotine quit.
I am petrified of gross obesity as both my mother and mother-in-laws life has been very difficult. When I was in my 20's and early 30's I had an eating disorder and was under weight for most of that time. It was after my date rape and boss stalker. My weight dropped to 98, 102, and 100 pounds three times in my 20's. In my 30's severe depression fueled another drop and I was 92 pounds at 5'6" with a medium frame. I was diagnosed with anemia 3 times in the military and was "ordered" to sign in to the chow hall and eat. (I don't think I every talked about that in my diary.) I think looking back now it had to do with control. Trying to control something in my life and it was my own body.
The weight and changes in my body from the steroids made it harder for me to work through my sense of self worth after alcoholism, prolonged illness with agoraphobia... at that time I didn't know yet that I had PTSD.
So today, after many years, I reached my goal weight. It has been a very long time coming. I am resisting the urge to reset the goal for another 10 pounds. I am trying to focus more on how I physically feel and try to give myself a day or so to celebrate achieving the goal.
I didn't do it in the way I wanted to. I really wanted to be nicotine free as well. But all in due time my mister says. He is probably right. He just very calmly tells me "It will happen, don't be too hard on yourself."
I am stealing some glances in the mirror. I am starting to recognize myself again. Though my hair is grayer, though my skin turgor is changing because at 53 the collagen is breaking down, and even though the effects of gravity are causing my former cheeks to slide down my face toward my jawline... I am starting to like more what I see in the mirror. Aging or not I think that my body image is about as close as I am going to get to experience of "before".
Before I got ill. Before the sexual traumas and subsequent eating disorder. Before I got obese. Before I got agoraphobia. Before I was an alcoholic. Before I knew I had apnea, allergies, ADD/ADHD, PTSD. I am feeling good about that today and I hope you folks will be happy with me.
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