This Blog's Purpose and How I Became Fat

INTRODUCTION
This blog will chronicle my journey through the last 10 pounds that I must loose.
10 pounds doesn't sound like much, but it is everything! Those pounds symbolize me having fully taken my life back. There are the pounds that I have come so close to loosing three times, but failed and eventually gone back to my starting weight. I promise you, the reader, full honesty with regard to my methods, struggles, failures and success. What do I hope to accomplish? My hope is that this blog will hold me accountable, to myself and to you. Also that , in some measure, the account of my journey will help others. I do not intend to bare my entire soul for the sake of confession or narcissism. However, I do intend full disclosure as it relates to my weight loss and the obstacles I face in that regard.

To my friends and acquaintances: If you already know me and some of these disclosures surprise or even shock you, I would ask that you keep it in perspective. This is real risky ground for me. For all of my gabbiness amongst my friends, at times to the point of what could be considered over sharing, I am actually a very private person. I keep secrets. If in a social situation, I share what would be thought to be private information, it is a smoke screen; a closeted shyness. I'm hiding something far more private and telling and attempting to mask my insecurities. Playing the open book keeps people from a desire to look any deeper. It keeps them at a safe distance. No one searches for your secrets if they believe you have none. So now I have risked that you will wonder what else I hide when you read things here that I have pledged to disclose. I risk the judgments of my social circle which is one of my great fears. Please be kind in your assessments. Maybe this sacred space of honesty can accomplish more than it's intended task. Maybe it can also relieve me of my social insecurities and remove the distance in my friendships.

This is the reality of weight loss. Everyone has a story of how they got fat and it relates entirely to what their struggles will be when they begin the task of loosing that weight. The parts of our lives are not perfect compartments. Our entire being, physical, mental, emotional, past, and perceived future are all a part of the process. So I will begin this blog with the story of how I got fat.

HOW I BECAME FAT
Four years ago this past May (it seems like 10 years ago) I had a serious fall. I will not waste effort giving the details other than to say it did lasting damage to my body. I will struggle with my back, my mobility, and pain for the rest of my life. I am presently 43 years old. I will alleviate you of performing the math by telling you I was 39 at the time of my accident. Before the injury I felt 10 years younger and people often mistook me for younger than that. I was in excellent physical shape and very active. I enjoyed having a very active life. Camping, hiking, horseback riding, you name it. I had a very physical job cleaning homes and for a time doing construction rehab. One of my most productive and healing outlets was my work with ceramics and clay sculpture. I handled large amounts of clay and spent countless hours at the potter's wheel.
My personality required and emotional stability depended upon my ability to be in motion.
I have always been a high energy, dynamic person full of ideas and creativity. I enjoy my quite moments with reading, writing, knitting, and meditation, but these seemed to be moments of decompression and refueling rather than my natural state. All of this means that because I was functioning according to my natural needs there was a cushion that allowed me to indulge, with out consequence, in my favorite comfort foods. I am Irish American. The food on the table in my grandparents home, and consequently my home growing up, included many forms of the potato. Also my grandmother was a consummate baker, as am I. All forms of potatoes and baked goods are my decadent pleasures. They are my comfort. I did not have a poor diet. I liked fruits and vegetable and lean meats. I even like vegetarian fare. I only resorted to unhealthy diets as per necessity when dealing with poor finances.
Important note: Being poor, impoverished, is to be poor in diet. Unless you have the land available to grow your own food, inexpensive food is usually bad food.
The inability to be in motion after the injury was devastating not only to my physical being, but most importantly, my mental and emotional well being. Since this was a work related injury there was the added struggle to have my needs met. There was no physical therapy given, no real physical support or healing offered; only pain pills. As the struggle with pain and limited mobility dragged on, by November I was in serious trouble. I had gained 20 pounds, lost much of my muscle tone, and the pain medication was beginning to have terrible effects on my mental and emotional health. As the Ohio winter began taking it's hold the pain increased beyond the help of pain medication and what had already been nights of little productive sleep became nights of virtually no sleep. I spent most nights in a recliner praying for the moment when total exhaustion would finally take me to some measure of sleep.

I became a person who spent my days eating comfort foods and watching day time TV between naps. I became increasingly unstable emotionally and mentally. I was paranoid and severely depressed with moments of mania and angry fits. I refer to the winter of 2005 as the Winter of Fat and Crazy. By January of 2006 I was 180 pounds and horribly disgusted when I looked in the mirror. This did not help my mental state.
One day while escaping in the world of Myspace, I received a call from the insurance company wanting to know how I was doing. I went into a tirade. I vented all of my anger, pain and disgust at that woman. She seemed unwavered. "So I guess that means you are not doing well." she said. "We have a new doctor we would like you to see to be reevaluated." This would be the third examination they had required me to go to and the result was always the same. No help. This trip would have require me to be in a car for forty five minutes of hell to reach the appointed doctor. "Like Hell!" I screamed and slammed down the phone. I was fuming and pacing. I was fully aware at that moment of my victimhood and helplessness. Something in me bubbled up and screamed "NO!" and I knew I had to take my life back. I began making phone calls and did not stop until I had an appointment with Vocational Rehabilitation and a mental health clinic. I called my church and asked if I could volunteer in some capacity relative to my physical ability.
I received the help I needed, began fighting back, and eventually received the physical therapy I needed and some of the treatment I required. I could never go back to the work I had done before and began preparing for a new career. By January of 2007, I had much of my sanity and enough mobility to reclaim some of my former life as well as a new job; a job I love.
What I also had was 35 pounds of extra weight. I still did not feel healthy or in any way attractive. Instead of looking 10 years younger, I looked my age and then some. I felt much older than that.
My counselor and I decided that this was my new challenge. This weight represented the last remnants of my victimhood. I would not feel fully reclaimed until it was gone. In the midst of all of this I had started parimenopause. This would be an added obstacle. With the help of my doctor's advise, I determined that 140 pounds was a reasonable weight to reach and maintain for a medium frame, 5'4 woman in her forties. If I could reach the 135 mark, all the better.
So, in April of 2007, the journey began and I carried all of this baggage with me.