What My Body Was Telling Me (and a synopsis of my weight loss journey)
Saturday, September 28, 2013
I've struggled with my weight my entire life. Same ol' sob story, right? As a child, I ate the same things my brother did, but he never seemed to have an issue. He's always been thin, naturally. It didn't seem fair, but that was my lot in life.
In high school, I weighed 160 pounds, about 25 pounds more than I should have according to all the lovely charts and graphs. By college, I was 190 pounds. Fast forward to age 25, and I was happily married and unhappily a hefty 272 pounds. 140ish pounds overweight. W. T. F.
My thoughts were,"HOW COULD THIS BE?! Why didn't anyone tell me?!" and "I don't LOOK that heavy, in the mirror..." Let's ignore the fact that I was pushing a size 22 and couldn't bend over to tie my shoes without dying or see my hooha when naked. (Yeah, I said it.)
I decided to take charge, finally, and really focus on losing some weight. Not long after, I found out I was pregnant. We were overjoyed at the prospect of a baby, but I knew my weight would be a factor. I knew doctors would frown on it and tell me I needed to refrain from gaining weight, etc. When we found out it was a blighted ovum and there would be no baby, my heart broke. I was miles away from home (we had moved to be closer to my spouse's children) and had virtually no support. No one understood. My mom would call me, confused, asking questions I didn't want to answer AGAIN. No, it wasn't a mistake. No, the results won't change. I had seen the empty womb for myself.
When we moved back home a few weeks later (yay, horrible economy and no jobs), I was around 235 pounds and no one could really recognize me (no real money for food will do that). People asked my husband who that woman was and what happened to his wife. Apparently forty pounds turns you into a new woman in more ways than I'd thought. (We've since divorced due to his infidelity and I've remarried a wonderful man worthy of my trust.)
The women's clinic kept calling, because they wanted me to come in for a DNC, but I refused to have my uterus scraped (and scarred), when my body would do what it was meant to do. I eventually labored through a delivery that did not result in a child, by myself, in the bathroom at my mother's house.
I delivered my own emptiness, in a way. I was depressed, and weight loss was the last thing on my mind. It took me a really long time to get out of that mindset and start really living life again.
I've seen the scale as low as 170, but I could never keep it there. Conventional diet wisdom (SAD) told me to eat low fat, whole grains, and exercise. It had worked to a point, but then I'd always put the weight back on. I've been on the parade of fad diets, but none worked well enough. On top of that, I had constant breakouts, hirutism, and multiple miscarriages (positive tests, then immediately starting my period). It all started to add up to something I didn't want to accept.
I have PCOS. Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. My hormones are way out of sync and it showed in my body. I didn't want to load my body with medicines when I could approach it with diet changes instead. I decided to try the Atkins Diet, and it worked to get my hormones in check. I finally wasn't breaking out every day, and I'd lost some weight. However, that's where it stopped. I flopped around from the SAD to low carb, but I couldn't make it stick. I wanted to believe that I could have bread, pasta, and sugar. I wanted to believe the opposite of what my body was telling me.
I can't have bread, pasta, and sugar without side effects. I'm going to gain weight. I'm going to break out. I'm going to feel bloated and miserable. I just am. As a last ditch effort, I started drinking the Plexus pink drink in the mornings. It was supposed to help break my plateau and help my body fight those nasty carbs.
I was skeptical, but it was worth a shot. I successfully lost 20 pounds with moderate exercise and a lowish-carb diet. I still hovered around 202-205, though, and kept breaking out like crazy. Finally, I decided to give the Primal diet a try. I was going for Paleo at first, but I like heavy cream in my coffee and some butter, so Primal it was.
It worked. In the almost three weeks since, I've dropped to 193 (for a total of 29 pounds in three months) and am acne free. Let me say that again. Acne free. That's a bigger deal to me than anything else. I feel amazing, and I'm not depriving myself (in my eyes). If I want a treat, I make a clean one. If it tastes like crap (most do), I wasn't meant to have it anyway, right?
My goal is another 25-30 pounds by Christmas. I'm finally listening to my body and not the Food Pyramid. Everything depends on it.