My personal battle with food, fat, and my ever growing butt.

OH Where to begin...


So I joined the WW (weight watchers) again last week.  This week has been going really well.  I thought I would hate the new program but who can hate free fruits and vegetables... I suppose the scale will tells us tomorrow if the new plan really works.


I find myself on this journey once again... I have fought with my weight for as long as I can remember.  I have done everything from starve myself, take diet drugs, binge, diet, etc.  I have only found true success when my mom several years ago asked me to go to weight watchers because she was doing it too.  She wanted a partner in crime and she knew I was struggling with both my weight and self-esteem.  I was a college student and I am sure it hurt her to see me struggling.  It was the best thing she could have done. While we were 2500 miles apart, we kept each other on track.  We were each other's go to person when having a rough day or when wanting to give up.  I lost about 75 pounds, and was back into my jeans I wore during my skinniest time in high school.  When I looked in the mirror, I was still fat.  I have always seen fat when I look in the mirror.  But when you experience a drastic weight loss like I did, it takes some time for your mind to realize what size you really are.  I would still go to the plus size section for clothes.  End up trying on the smallest size only for it to be far too big.  One day while shopping with a friend, I found myself in Express trying on a mini-denim skirt.  I tried on their largest size and it was too big.  I was in denial that it was too big because I couldn't possibly be a smaller size.  None if it made any sense.  I hadn't shopped at express in years let alone have a size option issue.  Having said that, I got the smaller sized mini and finally realized I looked pretty good.  I started to embrace the new me.


The new me not only changed the outside but it changed the inside tremendously.  I wanted to go out.  I was way more out going.  I was getting a lot of attention from men.  Some wanted, some not.  Shortly after the weight loss, I was sexually assaulted.  And that, was the beginning of the end for me.  Mentally, I knew that I had not caused the rape.  I knew that I was not at fault for the rape.  But I constantly questioned if it would have happened had I been 75 pounds heavier?  Would it have happened if I was still the fat girl?


I began to feed my depression from this event with chocolate, junk food, fast food, etc.  Pretty much, I have been the poster child of self destruction by food.  I have put on the 75 pounds and then some.  I had gotten to the point that I didn't care how I looked.  I have used the fat as a buffer between me and men.  I have completely given up on my appearance and I think it is my subconscious' way of making sure it never happens again.


I don't know how you recover from a tragic event like I experienced.  I still struggle on a daily basis with it.  I have been through months and months of therapy, and while it helps, it doesn't undo what was done.  That night someone violated me in a way that no one should ever experience.


More recently, I have been telling myself that I deserve to be healthy.  I deserve to be fit.  I deserve to feel pretty again.  I deserve to be back in that mini and my jeans from high school.  No one is going to be able to undo that night.  But do I really want to suffer one more day because of it?  Do I want to slowly destroy my body and my health because it is easier than dealing with things?  Do I really want him to win for one more day?


What it comes down to is that I deserve to live.  Really live.  And live the best life that I can live.  With the support of one of my dearest friends, Colleen, she has asked if I want to give it another try.  She has been a support system for me when I really need someone.  I think she really gets me.  I don't really need to say certain things to her, she just knows.  So, I am embarking this journey with her again.  She has started to blog and really motivational and inspirational things.  It has kept me going this week.  I know that when I need strength, it is a place that I can go and read insightful things to remind me of why I am doing this.  I have decided to start a blog, not only to journal my journey, but as a form of therapy for me.  So regardless if it is read, or if it is entertained, it is a place for me to go, mentally, and decompress, vent, share joy, etc.


If you want to follow me on this journey, I welcome it.  And to all those in my life who have stood by my side, who have been my shoulder to cry on, who have brought me joy and laughter over the last few years, thank you!  You are the reason I am still here, even if very broken.


Here's to me finally picking up the damn pieces!