Friday, January 13, 2017

Thursday, January 12, 2017

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

The Weight of Weight

All my life I've been afraid of a number. Terrified that someone would discover the number that shows on my scale and ... I don't know. Publish it in the paper? Tell my boss? Invalidate my existence because the number was too high?

One number and I've lived my life in fear of it.

Hello folks. My name is Lori and I currently weight 240 pounds. I'm 5 foot nothing in height so when I describe myself as having the shape of a beach ball, I'm not kidding.

This isn't the biggest I've ever been either. When I first moved to Hawaii I weighed about 276. I got down to 240 but then my knees started to really hurt and my snack-age went up and I was 250 and thought "no".

This isn't about weight loss. I finally, at age closer to 60 than not, realized that this, all of this craziness has been about a number.

Years ago I was told that at my height, my healthy weight is 100 pounds. Well that's interesting. I was 160 in high school. What's the fucking chance I'm going to ever weigh 100 pounds?

So I started to fear the number. My entire life I'd tell anybody anything about myself but never my weight. I've confessed my fears, my shames, my most embarrassing moments but I never told anyone how much I weigh.

I weigh 240 pounds today.

It's a number. One single motherfucking number that has had more control over my life than the people I love, the way I feel, more than everything.

It's never been about weight. It's always been about being told I should weigh 100 pounds and weighing more than twice that. It's about years of thinking if I could just get down to (fill in the blank) pounds then I'll be okay.

Just a stupid number.

Before anyone decides this is the time to come in and point out the health dangers of obesity and whatever else someone wants to do because they're a ridiculous human being, can I suggest you fuck off? This isn't about that. No fat person alive hasn't gotten the lectures, the tut-tutting, the loving concern from family, friends and strangers.

It isn't about that. It's about a number.

I finally realized that I no longer was afraid of that number. I'm not ashamed of it, I'm not defined by it. It's part of my journey and wherever the number goes, I'll work it out.

My name is Lori and I weigh 240 pounds. And for the first time in my entire life, I'm not bothered by it.

Thursday, January 5, 2017

And the Responsibility Goes To....

I want to lose weight. No, I need to lose weight. No wait... too much weight is waiting... way much weight is weighing me down     (stop me, Carol...)

This wasn't a New Year's resolution. I realized that I wasn't happy with the constant knee pain and the first step to being pain free was putting less stress on my joints. Which meant... you got it.

My plan/intent ultimately is to join weight watchers. But right now I'm trying to jump start some weight loss so I can feel excited and proud and the best way to do that quickly and safely is to cut carbs and sugar, eat more protein, veggies and a handful of fats. It's how I lost weight pre-adoption and how I'm jump-starting right now.

My family is aware and truly, couldn't give a shit, one way or another. Okay, not true. My daughter is my personal cheering section and every day asks how I feel and have I lost any weight (I feel great and yes, I have).

I talked to my SIL who does most of the cooking and she said she supported me although was not going to add more meat to our meals. That's fine. What I didn't expect was that she would start making really carb heavy meals that I can't eat.

At first I felt hurt and declared that she was obviously sabotaging me. I sniffled, I went to bed hungry and I sniffled some more. Then I stopped. Because what my SIL chooses to do is no reflection on me or my health or my choices. I'm responsible for me, not her, and she can't sabotage me if I stay the track and remain on the path.

So here I am. I love my SIL and think that right now something is playing out that has more to do with her feelings around food and less to do with me. I need to be willing to put aside my sniffling and when there are no good choices for me, to make my own. I need to buy some groceries just for myself and be willing to take responsibility for buying and cooking my food.

And I need to remember that my health is my responsibility and my family loves me but isn't always going to make the right decisions for my care either. That's why I need to do it.

My life. I'm responsible. (May be my new motto for 2017).

Monday, January 2, 2017

Before It's Forgotten

I saw where Willaful had done a bog post saying 2016 hadn't been all bad and it made me think. There was some serious badness and sadness but there were also some things that happened that were amazing:

My sister got married. She and her partner have been together 17 years and couldn't legally marry and now they can and they did. If that isn't worth celebration, I don't know what is.

My SIL is cancer free. A year ago she was sick from chemo and at the lowest point of her life. Now she's regaining her health and energy, she had an amazing holiday and if kicking cancer's ass isn't amazing...

I lost my job (I adored that job) but the very next day got a new job with a man who, although he has some interpersonal challenges, is generous and deep down caring. I'm hoping that I can be a benefit to him as well as I appreciate the benefits he is giving and plans to give his employees.

I wrote a book. That might seem like a small thing but the last thing I wrote to completion was a novella in 2014. This is a step back in the direction I want my life to go.

I'm sure there are other things but right now these are the ones that come to mind.

We're still here and kicking. Hopefully we got a lot more years cause God knows, we got plenty of kick in us.

Saturday, December 31, 2016

Bring on 2017!

Adios 2016. On a personal level, you kinda sucked.

There were great things that happened in the year. After all, something good had to happen within the time span of 365 days but the bad outweighed the good this year.

New Years traditionally is a great holiday. I love the idea of new beginnings and resolutions are always fun. But not this year.

This year there are no resolutions. My decision to eat healthier is one made for my knees and I already began. I've finished a novel and am working on another story so no need to resolve to write more.

No. This year I'm preparing to fight. Fight for the rights of Americans who will be losing their healthcare, their pensions, their safety, the rights to their own bodies.

This won't be the year to be quiet. This is going to be the year to protest, to complain, to insist on being heard.

Bring it on 2017. We're getting ready for you now.