Frosted Cookies from Vankleek Hill

After I finished my filling (yet cheesecake-less) lunch, my lovely cousin called to tell me she was coming into Barrhaven for the afternoon and wanted to know if she could stay at my place until I got home. Instead, I played hooky and left work to go meet her. We didn't do much, just went to Home Depot for a bit then came back home, but Lacey is one of those people where every time you see them, you remember why you love them so much! I wasn't sure if I was going to continue this blog, let alone post it for the world to see, but Lacey convinced me it was a good thing to do. She said that not only was it going to encourage me (by holding me accountable for what I eat), but that it would also help anyone else going through this (or any) lifelong struggle. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't be writing this today...I mainly wouldn't be writing this today because last night I screwed up. :( I'm embarrassed about what I ate, and normally, would hide it (at all costs) from my family and friends... from the world. It's an important step in a new direction for me to admit to people what I'm eating. For supper I decided to eat 'really well' (and by well I mean, starving myself by eating extremely small amounts) and eat just crackers and cheese for supper. Of course, about an hour later I was starving so I had a bowl of Smart Food Popcorn (which is the death of me) and three spring rolls from Costco. While that filled me up, that also got me into 'snacking' mode. So while pacing around my living room, trying not to eat us out of house and home, I got a text message from our neighbour saying their two lovely little girls made us delicious frosted cookies at their grandmothers house this past weekend, and they wanted to know if I could come pick them up. I really didn't want to because I knew I was going to come home and eat them, but I didn't want to hurt their feelings either. So I shrugged into my winter coat, slipped on my flip flops (yes, flip flops, you'll learn that anytime after March 1st, I boycott winter and start wearing flip flops) and headed over. After giving the girls a big hug and a thank you, I came back home. The whole way home I talked myself into not eating the cookies...then the second I walked in the door, I ate one. After eating it, I felt nauseous. Did I really just do that? Did I really just spend the last 5 minutes telling myself NOT to eat it, then walk in the door and shove it down my throat? Weary of myself and suddenly bone tired, I went to bed.

This morning I woke up with a little bit of a different attitude. I decided that I was going to write everything down in this blog, whether it be embarrassing or not, and get my life on track. I am an addict. While my addiction isn't going to cause me to drive drunk, overdose, gamble our life savings away or end up like Tiger. It will increase my risks of heart disease, type 2 diabetes and cancer. It will decrease my life span, and the years that I am alive will be limited. If I keep this up I won't ever be happy. I might never be able to have kids (and if I do I might end up like those women on "I didn't know I was pregnant", which would be worse). One day I might not be be able to fit on rides at Disney. While all these are "maybes" and "mights", I'm no longer willing to take a chance with my life. I am going to lose weight. I am going to get healthy. I am going to post this blog for the world to see. God help me! :)

Three Cheese Ziti

As I sit here eating my Smart Ones Three Cheese Ziti by Weight Watchers, I contemplate what my life will be like when I'm "skinny". I know that it's not healthy to use terms like skinny, or fat, etc. But, like every other aspect of weight loss, what I know, is not always what I do. I know how to eat, what to eat, when to eat. I know every calorie in every bite I eat. I know how to plan ahead for the week, and how order in restaurants. What I know, is not what I do. As I calculate every bite I eat during the day, I pretend that it's "not that bad" and that I'm still young, and other than my weight, I'm very healthy. I convince myself on a daily basis that I still have time to lose weight and enjoy life. The truth is, time is running out. I'm twenty-four years old, and have yet to look at a photograph of myself and thing "Wow, I look good", I have yet to feel comfortable in a bathing suit. I have yet been able to go shopping and not have to worry if this store or that will have my size. I spend thousands of extra dollars each year buying plus size clothing to go along with my plus size frame. Along with the extra money spent on clothing, I spend another $1000+ a year on weight loss products, $2000+ at fast food restaurants and another $1000+ for a gym membership I don't use. In total, not only is my weight killing me, it's also costing me at least $5000 a year. In this economy, who can afford that? As I move from my Ziti to my desert of grapes, I try not to think about the delicious strawberry cheesecake in the fridge here at work. "Grapes are good. Grapes are good for me." I keep repeating to myself...outloud. My boss probably thinks I'm losing my mind. Maybe I am. Saying stuff outloud helps me commit. If someone hears me say "I will not pig out on Ben & Jerry's tonight", then in my mind, I have to keep that promise to them. Yes. I am OCD. My starting weight this week is 280lbs. Disgusting. I plan to drop 150lbs in a little over a year. By next summer I plan to be 130lbs and drop from a size 20 to a size 8 (or less). That's a little over 2lbs a week and a pretty healthy way to lose weight. Although this concept is not new to me, it will be the first time I actually try it. Wish me luck.