My journey to morbid obesity , back from it, back to it, and back from it again.
I started this blog because I just needed a place to go to get all the negative crappy feelings out. A place where I'm not being judged and I can just be honest about the struggle that is morbid obesity and the difficulties in losing the weight.
Truthfully, I don't think anyone wakes up one day and decides to become morbidly obese. When I was a child a persons weight never even crossed my mind as something that needed to be considered. I ate food the same way any kid my age would eat food. However, reflecting I do think there were some childhood things that I think played a roll in aiding me to eventually become morbidly obese. An example of a habit that was hard for me to break was being taught that I had to eat all the food on my plate. As well as being served portions that were way too big for my body and age. I see how much my kids eat today and I realize that I was made to feel like I had to eat portions 2x the size. This became a habit in my adult life that was super difficult to break. Through my childhood years and into my teens and twenties I was unknowingly growing, training, my stomach, and my brain that the only way to be satisfied with a meal was if I felt over stuffed.
What also didn't help on my journey to morbid obesity was a habit of turning to food to stuff my emotions and to try to fill the emptiness I felt after my grandmother died. I can distinctly remember the moment that food became more than just a thing to give my body fuel. The moment it became the tool I used to silence the ache in the pit of my soul. It was the summer before my Junior year of high school. I had made a difficult decision to separate myself from a relationship that for many reasons could not be the fulfillment of the loneliness that I had felt for so long after my grandma died. This meant that the person that I had turned to for 2years with my heartaches, laughter, and longings I could not go to anymore. It was a terribly difficult season as I had no real friends and willingly just gave up the one friendship that wanted me around. I remember being home, alone, nothing but t.v. to watch and feeling utterly empty. I was crying so hard and I just wanted to get rid of the feeling that I was having. I thought of a time in my life when I had felt similar, a time when I had my grandmother to comfort me and help me ride the waves of loneliness and the empty feelings. I literally said to myself "What did grandma used to do when I felt this way?" The memories that flooded my mind were ones of me sneaking into her room late at night, crawling into her bed, cuddling up next to her, crying into her body and of she touching my forehead, singing me songs until eventually I would fall asleep.
As the memories poured into my mind the empty feelings grew deeper and I screamed out loud to myself. "She isn't here to do that anymore! What else can I do that she would have done?" Then I remembered, toast. She would get out of bed the nights when I couldn't fall asleep and make me a plain piece of toast to eat. Well, that was something I could do for myself. I got off the chair I was sitting in and I went to the kitchen and I made myself a piece of toast. Through tears, I ate that toast, and by the end of it, somehow I felt better. So began my journey of using food to comfort the pains in my heart. Day after day, whenever the feelings of grief, and loneliness rose up again, I would walk to the kitchen and find whatever I could to eat. Toast became cookies, cookies became bags of chips, bags of chips became whole meals. I gained 40lbs that summer.
The pain, the loneliness, life, just didn't get any better. More personal conflicts arose, more heartache, more loneliness and constant longing for the ache of life to be done. Some teens use drugs, some sex, some drama, some alcohol, some sports, some a combination of said things, and for me it was food, church, and work. Years of repeating this process, food, church, work, food, church, work, food, church, work. It wasn't until I got married, had 2 kids, severe postpartum depression, got actual counseling that I even realized that I had an unhealthy relationship with food.
Thus began my journey back from morbid obesity. Like most morbidly obese journeys I began my journey back from it with enthusiasm and determination. I joined a weight loss program, I poured myself into health stories, journals, bible studies. Anything that would keep me motivated to keep persevering on the journey of weight loss I did it. You know something, it actually worked. In a little under a year I had lost 70lbs and I was no longer turning to food for my source of comfort. I actually had to allow myself to feel again and I had to do something else with those feelings. I had to deal with them, grieve them, and not just ignore them anymore. Though, I had moments where the journey back from it wasn't always easy I believed with all my heart that it was worth it.
Then life happened again, stress crept back in the way of starting a new life in a different city and leaving friends behind. In that moment I wasn't turning to food for comfort I simply was beginning to not be as diligent in paying attention to how much I was eating when I was eating. I quickly gained back 30lbs, and then I got pregnant with my 3rd baby and I loved it. I knew I could lose the weight again, I knew I had conquered the battle before and that facing it again was doable. So I enjoyed the pregnancy, I ate and didn't feel bad about it. I gained 40lbs throughout that pregnancy. WHAM! All the weight I had lost was back. I wasn't worried about it though I could lose the weight again after my baby was born. BUT then....once again life.
I couldn't have known what was going to take place in the future and I try to give myself grace. But had I known that I would suffer a terribly traumatic uterine rupture and that my beautiful baby would not survive I would have been more careful during my pregnancy with her or at least I think I would have. In the aftermath of losing our Katherine, I surprisingly did not turn to food for comfort, but I also wasn't actively trying to lose the weight I had gained back in the year before her. I somehow managed to not go back to food for a whole year after her loss.
I can not pin point the exact moment when I just didn't care anymore about trying to remain on a path back from morbid obesity. I think it was somewhere around the 1year anniversary of her birth and death. When the only people that came to a remembrance ceremony were friends from out of state and that was after I had invited almost everyone from my church to come to it...and not 1 person from the church showed up. I think that was a moment when I looked around and realized how alone I was in the grief journey and that a year of suspected belief that people just wanted me to "get over it" became a reality. I remember a moment when I was looking at some food and literally said "Why the hell not? No one where I live cares about me anyways." That was all it took to get me further down the path of morbid obesity.
In the next 4years with an additional pregnancy thrown in between I gained an additional 50lbs maxing out at 362lbs. When I stepped on that scale and saw the numbers I sat on my bed and I cried. I couldn't believe what I had done to myself because now I finally cared. Now I was in a place with good people, good friends, a much better place spiritually, and I had found a lot of healing. Except, when I came to the realization that I cared about what I was doing to myself I now felt too far down the path of morbid obesity and I wasn't sure there could be a way of going back from it. On top of it, I knew if I did come back from it, I was now looking at having to live with the scars of morbid obesity on my body. Saggy, excess skin, that may make my body look older than it really is. I was struggling to get back on the path from morbid obesity because I was struggling with the thought that I was simply trading one type of ugly for another. I had to once again dive deep into my pain, unlock the hurts I had bottled up in my heart for years, discover what true beauty really is and be willing to face my shame, name it, call it out, and leave it behind.
This process has not been an easy one, I looked into getting weight loss surgery and discovered I wasn't a good fit for that. I cried for 3days over this because all though weight loss surgery is not an easy way out. I saw it as a more successful way out. One that didn't depend on my day to day mood and inner strength to resist food. Yet, through that set back I was determined not give up on starting the journey back. I found a medical weight loss program, I am seeing a doctor that specializes in obesity patients and treats me like a whole person and not just as a person with a self control problem. Daily I have to fight inner turmoil, some days it is harder than others and I find myself angry that I have to restrict what foods I eat when the rest of my family does not. Some days I actually cry because I remember how a certain type of food had a way of taking a negative emotion and replacing it with a good one. I've had to turn to prayer a lot.
Finally, I started this blog where I can be honest with myself about my emotions surrounding this journey back from morbid obesity so I can hopefully stop taking it out on my family. From a doctor's perspective my journey back from MO (morbid obesity) is going well. I've lost 10lbs in the first month. From my perspective this has been a difficult journey and a part of me doesn't want to care anymore. I want my self comfort back. I want my pleasure back. I want to eat all the foods I've given up for that 10lb weight loss. I want to not feel again anymore. But I know if I made that choice, I'd be making a choice of self destruction and where is the goodness in that? So, if I allow anyone to read this, if you are reading this. Pray, pray, pray because truthfully, there is nothing you can do to make this journey easier on me. Maybe be a willing, listening, non judgmental ear from time to time?
Hope with me. Hope that this will be the journey back from MO that stays with me for the rest of my life time. Believe in me when I can't or don't believe in myself to keep walking this journey back. Remind me that Jesus is walking with me and hasn't left me alone. Encourage me to take my walks, even if I roll my eyes at you. Send me a bible verse that reminds me to take my strength not from myself but from my Jesus. Let me know that you see my hard work and efforts even on a day that I may fail. I am choosing to believe I can continue this road back from morbid obesity and that I can arrive to another path a more whole person.
Truthfully, I don't think anyone wakes up one day and decides to become morbidly obese. When I was a child a persons weight never even crossed my mind as something that needed to be considered. I ate food the same way any kid my age would eat food. However, reflecting I do think there were some childhood things that I think played a roll in aiding me to eventually become morbidly obese. An example of a habit that was hard for me to break was being taught that I had to eat all the food on my plate. As well as being served portions that were way too big for my body and age. I see how much my kids eat today and I realize that I was made to feel like I had to eat portions 2x the size. This became a habit in my adult life that was super difficult to break. Through my childhood years and into my teens and twenties I was unknowingly growing, training, my stomach, and my brain that the only way to be satisfied with a meal was if I felt over stuffed.
What also didn't help on my journey to morbid obesity was a habit of turning to food to stuff my emotions and to try to fill the emptiness I felt after my grandmother died. I can distinctly remember the moment that food became more than just a thing to give my body fuel. The moment it became the tool I used to silence the ache in the pit of my soul. It was the summer before my Junior year of high school. I had made a difficult decision to separate myself from a relationship that for many reasons could not be the fulfillment of the loneliness that I had felt for so long after my grandma died. This meant that the person that I had turned to for 2years with my heartaches, laughter, and longings I could not go to anymore. It was a terribly difficult season as I had no real friends and willingly just gave up the one friendship that wanted me around. I remember being home, alone, nothing but t.v. to watch and feeling utterly empty. I was crying so hard and I just wanted to get rid of the feeling that I was having. I thought of a time in my life when I had felt similar, a time when I had my grandmother to comfort me and help me ride the waves of loneliness and the empty feelings. I literally said to myself "What did grandma used to do when I felt this way?" The memories that flooded my mind were ones of me sneaking into her room late at night, crawling into her bed, cuddling up next to her, crying into her body and of she touching my forehead, singing me songs until eventually I would fall asleep.
As the memories poured into my mind the empty feelings grew deeper and I screamed out loud to myself. "She isn't here to do that anymore! What else can I do that she would have done?" Then I remembered, toast. She would get out of bed the nights when I couldn't fall asleep and make me a plain piece of toast to eat. Well, that was something I could do for myself. I got off the chair I was sitting in and I went to the kitchen and I made myself a piece of toast. Through tears, I ate that toast, and by the end of it, somehow I felt better. So began my journey of using food to comfort the pains in my heart. Day after day, whenever the feelings of grief, and loneliness rose up again, I would walk to the kitchen and find whatever I could to eat. Toast became cookies, cookies became bags of chips, bags of chips became whole meals. I gained 40lbs that summer.
The pain, the loneliness, life, just didn't get any better. More personal conflicts arose, more heartache, more loneliness and constant longing for the ache of life to be done. Some teens use drugs, some sex, some drama, some alcohol, some sports, some a combination of said things, and for me it was food, church, and work. Years of repeating this process, food, church, work, food, church, work, food, church, work. It wasn't until I got married, had 2 kids, severe postpartum depression, got actual counseling that I even realized that I had an unhealthy relationship with food.
Thus began my journey back from morbid obesity. Like most morbidly obese journeys I began my journey back from it with enthusiasm and determination. I joined a weight loss program, I poured myself into health stories, journals, bible studies. Anything that would keep me motivated to keep persevering on the journey of weight loss I did it. You know something, it actually worked. In a little under a year I had lost 70lbs and I was no longer turning to food for my source of comfort. I actually had to allow myself to feel again and I had to do something else with those feelings. I had to deal with them, grieve them, and not just ignore them anymore. Though, I had moments where the journey back from it wasn't always easy I believed with all my heart that it was worth it.
Then life happened again, stress crept back in the way of starting a new life in a different city and leaving friends behind. In that moment I wasn't turning to food for comfort I simply was beginning to not be as diligent in paying attention to how much I was eating when I was eating. I quickly gained back 30lbs, and then I got pregnant with my 3rd baby and I loved it. I knew I could lose the weight again, I knew I had conquered the battle before and that facing it again was doable. So I enjoyed the pregnancy, I ate and didn't feel bad about it. I gained 40lbs throughout that pregnancy. WHAM! All the weight I had lost was back. I wasn't worried about it though I could lose the weight again after my baby was born. BUT then....once again life.
I couldn't have known what was going to take place in the future and I try to give myself grace. But had I known that I would suffer a terribly traumatic uterine rupture and that my beautiful baby would not survive I would have been more careful during my pregnancy with her or at least I think I would have. In the aftermath of losing our Katherine, I surprisingly did not turn to food for comfort, but I also wasn't actively trying to lose the weight I had gained back in the year before her. I somehow managed to not go back to food for a whole year after her loss.
I can not pin point the exact moment when I just didn't care anymore about trying to remain on a path back from morbid obesity. I think it was somewhere around the 1year anniversary of her birth and death. When the only people that came to a remembrance ceremony were friends from out of state and that was after I had invited almost everyone from my church to come to it...and not 1 person from the church showed up. I think that was a moment when I looked around and realized how alone I was in the grief journey and that a year of suspected belief that people just wanted me to "get over it" became a reality. I remember a moment when I was looking at some food and literally said "Why the hell not? No one where I live cares about me anyways." That was all it took to get me further down the path of morbid obesity.
In the next 4years with an additional pregnancy thrown in between I gained an additional 50lbs maxing out at 362lbs. When I stepped on that scale and saw the numbers I sat on my bed and I cried. I couldn't believe what I had done to myself because now I finally cared. Now I was in a place with good people, good friends, a much better place spiritually, and I had found a lot of healing. Except, when I came to the realization that I cared about what I was doing to myself I now felt too far down the path of morbid obesity and I wasn't sure there could be a way of going back from it. On top of it, I knew if I did come back from it, I was now looking at having to live with the scars of morbid obesity on my body. Saggy, excess skin, that may make my body look older than it really is. I was struggling to get back on the path from morbid obesity because I was struggling with the thought that I was simply trading one type of ugly for another. I had to once again dive deep into my pain, unlock the hurts I had bottled up in my heart for years, discover what true beauty really is and be willing to face my shame, name it, call it out, and leave it behind.
This process has not been an easy one, I looked into getting weight loss surgery and discovered I wasn't a good fit for that. I cried for 3days over this because all though weight loss surgery is not an easy way out. I saw it as a more successful way out. One that didn't depend on my day to day mood and inner strength to resist food. Yet, through that set back I was determined not give up on starting the journey back. I found a medical weight loss program, I am seeing a doctor that specializes in obesity patients and treats me like a whole person and not just as a person with a self control problem. Daily I have to fight inner turmoil, some days it is harder than others and I find myself angry that I have to restrict what foods I eat when the rest of my family does not. Some days I actually cry because I remember how a certain type of food had a way of taking a negative emotion and replacing it with a good one. I've had to turn to prayer a lot.
Finally, I started this blog where I can be honest with myself about my emotions surrounding this journey back from morbid obesity so I can hopefully stop taking it out on my family. From a doctor's perspective my journey back from MO (morbid obesity) is going well. I've lost 10lbs in the first month. From my perspective this has been a difficult journey and a part of me doesn't want to care anymore. I want my self comfort back. I want my pleasure back. I want to eat all the foods I've given up for that 10lb weight loss. I want to not feel again anymore. But I know if I made that choice, I'd be making a choice of self destruction and where is the goodness in that? So, if I allow anyone to read this, if you are reading this. Pray, pray, pray because truthfully, there is nothing you can do to make this journey easier on me. Maybe be a willing, listening, non judgmental ear from time to time?
Hope with me. Hope that this will be the journey back from MO that stays with me for the rest of my life time. Believe in me when I can't or don't believe in myself to keep walking this journey back. Remind me that Jesus is walking with me and hasn't left me alone. Encourage me to take my walks, even if I roll my eyes at you. Send me a bible verse that reminds me to take my strength not from myself but from my Jesus. Let me know that you see my hard work and efforts even on a day that I may fail. I am choosing to believe I can continue this road back from morbid obesity and that I can arrive to another path a more whole person.
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