In the last year and a bit I’ve gained a lot of weight. Partially due to birth control, partially because I have the tendency to binge eat. Right now I weigh the most I’ve ever weighed and I feel really uncomfortable with my body. I have angry red stretch marks again for the first time in years. My hips, thighs, behind my knees, on my butt. I’ve even got some on my forearms. I want to lose weight, but it’s hard. I live with my mum who is constantly buying junk food, and when it’s in my face, it’s really hard to resist eating it. I need a lot of support, to help me stay on track, to help make sure I’m not losing it, but I don’t really have anyone. Right now my belly upsets me the most. I have (had?) faded scars from past self-harming, but because of the weight gain, they’ve stretched and turned pink. Combined with the actual stretch marks, my belly is one big flub of red lines, and I hate it.
I have a past that includes some eating issues. For a while a few years back, I abused laxatives. I’d over exercise, count my calories, starve myself. It was a really bad time for me mentally. Thankfully in the last 2 years with the help of medication, therapy and the support of friends, family and my boyfriend, I’ve improved a lot. With my mental health improving, came a very nonchalant attitude about my eating and body. I stopped being so obsessive, it was bad for me. But my eating has always been very “all or nothing”. So as soon as that thought process relaxed, my eating got out of control.
I know it’s not good. But it’s hard. It does affect my health. I’m unfit, my blood-pressure is right on the cusp of being too-high (I suspect this also has something to do with the antidepressant I’m on). It scares me. My dad died suddenly when he was 45 from heart and weight related issues. I don’t want to be him. I’m just unhealthy. I want to change. Not because being fat is bad, but because it’s affecting my health, both mentally and physically. I need to lose weight for me. Unlike how I used to think, wanting to drop as much as possible as quick as possible, I just want to fit my clothes again. Looking back on pictures of when I was still slightly overweight, I looked hot as hell. I was reasonably fit. I enjoyed running, I enjoyed how it made me feel.
The hardest part of weight loss for me is my mentality. As soon as I start actively trying to lose weight, my brain flips a switch and the unhealthy thoughts start. This is part of why I’ve gained so much, because keeping track of my weight means bad thoughts, I’d rather be fat and content than thinner and depressed. I kept choosing not to worry about it, which is great, but also not really. I need to find a healthy balance. I need to care, but not too much. I need to be relaxed, but not too relaxed.
I wanted to take a picture of my belly. Hating it isn’t going to help. This is my body right now. I am uncomfortable and none of my clothes fit and my confidence has gone way downhill. I will lose weight. Even if it takes ages. Any improvement is still an improvement. But my body is still ok. It’s still my body. I may feel repulsive sometimes and to some people, I am. But it’s my body. Weighing more doesn’t detract from my personality. My size doesn’t dictate my worth. This is something I’ve always struggled with believing, it’s something I don’t remind myself nearly enough.
This crappy phone pic doesn’t show how bad they are. They’re a bit darker in reality. I’m a bit lumpier too.