Sunday, November 23, 2014

Guest Blogger: Fatty Went To Rehab

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Each week Tongue Loose will have a different blogger talking about things on their mind...Please give a warm welcome to our first - Fatty Went To Rehab

My name is Fatty...And I'm a food addict. 

The hardest thing about this is that I genuinely hate food. It upsets me. The thought of it gives me anxiety, and it's become a tool to punish myself and not a way to nourish myself or to award myself. I'm sure anyone who looks at me thinks that I love it and that my struggle with losing weight is that cheese covered chips and a fake meat battered in butter and oil is too difficult to resist. But it's not. I know what I want. I know what I like. I know how to get there. I just hate myself to allow that to happen.  I've been slimmer than this, and I've been fatter than this. When I lost all my weight and more after giving birth I loved me. The way I looked, thought and the energy I had. But after all that hard work carrying a few extra pound still seemed like a failure, so it backfired and within 4 months I was fatter than I had ever been including when pregnant (I know being pregnant is not being fat, but you get it) I do not exaggerate when I say that I gained 42kg in 4 months. It was bad. Nothing fit, everything hurt and all actions were a pain to complete. You wouldn't believe me when I say it crept up on me, but it did. I was comfortable and going about my life when my family pointed out I had gained a lot of weight. Suddenly it wasn't easy to lose it, that was two years ago and I am still carrying it around. 

Nothing has changed. Except the thoughts have gotten more intense.

Food addiction is real. It's harmful and it's vicious. I suppose I always thought that one day I'd be the after picture without even trying. Time would just make it happen. All time has done is make me feel like an undeserving person. I am in a constant state of discomfort and I have put my life on hold until I've lost the weight. At my age and maturity it's not about looking sexy or appealing, it's about my health. I'm slowly killing myself, although at times when I've binged on pizza, hamburger, chicken wings and ices cream (yes in one sitting) I question how slow that death really is. Maybe I'm so close to it I've given up on trying to lose the weight.  

 Along with the self loathing there's the problem of being overwhelmed by the weight I'd need to lose. There are times when I squeeze myself into a nice black dress and I can think to myself that yeah, fat girls have nice tits and look at that ass but when it all comes off and the spanx are pulled down from the sagging and huge stomach I see what I truly look like. There are days where I'm happy with what I see and all I'd need is a few crunches to sort me out. But majority of the time without the sucking in, and the dark lighting and the distracting make up I see nothing but the fat that is weighing me down and I'm tempted to cut it off. This isn't who I want to be. I'm not the girl who cries when she eats because she knows the damage it's doing to her heart, I'm not the girl who says no to a date because she a convinced the guy asking her out is doing it on a bet and I'm not the girl who sits in the corner when she finally agreed to see a friend and makes sure her jacket covers her body and that the table is high enough to not show anything below the waist.  As much as I tell myself that I deep down am not that person, I have to face the music and realise that I am. It is however time to change things. It's time to stop hiding behind the fat and become the person I want to be. Healthy, full of energy, confident and most importantly I want to love myself. 

I'm not looking for immediate happiness, but I'm looking to unravel the tools to allow myself become the person I want to be. Weight-loss is more than just fitting into a certain size and category, it's about being able to adhere to the simple rules of healthy living; exercise and eat healthy. And for someone who likes exercise and healthy food you'd think it'd be easy. But it's not. So welcome on my quest to unlock the mind blocks that cause me to hate myself, the things that make me feel like I'm not a real person. And let's get real, here are some facts that no one except my doctor knows.  I'm 5:8 and I weigh 115 kg that's like ...a lot (255 lbs)...currently squeezing myself into a size 16/18.

I don't look as big as I am, but I can feel my organs shutting down and my will to live rotting.
I have goals, they are figure less though. I'm giving myself until the 6th of November to have eliminated all the crap and enjoyed a nice cleanse, and until the 1st of January to have kickstarted my journey to self-loving without taking a nasty turn and without backfiring. The past 2 weeks I've felt great! In only a matter of days I felt slimmer, energetic, I woke up hungry and I did not burp up last nights cheese tactic feast. This was all through journaling everything I ate on  the app myfitnesspal. The simple act of writing it down kept me away from over eating and from making myself sick with food. But three days ago I stopped writing it down and I took it as it meaning I had free reins to eat whatever my self disdain was telling me to eat.  

 I'm envious of the people who have enough discipline and self-respect to either be in great shape or be of a bigger size but enjoy their life. There are plenty of women my size and bigger which are happy, love it and fight for the beauty ideal to be changed to include bigger sizes. But it's not about the beauty ideal for me, it's the fact that the actions which have brought me here are tell tale signs that I hate myself. 

UPDATE:  After having written the first post about taking the first step I went to the chicken shop next door to negotiate 6 BBQ wings when I only had £1.45 on me. I could have settled for 3 wings, but 6 make more damage. It didn't stop there but instead led to the final binge. To read more please visit Fatty Went To Rehab.

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