Ugh

So I see from old posts that I’ve been over 150 since the end of March. I was wondering how long it’d been. I had to buy new jeans, size 12, and even those are now getting tight. I don’t know why I am retaining so much weight. I briefly tried to diet a couple weeks ago and I felt like I was starving the whole time. I feel awful, I have digestive issues, and lately I have acid reflux as well. I guess I am just eating badly and not getting enough exercise. I’m also really stressed out and generally unhappy.

I’m going on vacation soon, and I’m hoping that will give me the opportunity to relax and remember what it’s like to enjoy myself.

One good thing: I started taking Super B Complex, and I no longer have the sort of depression where I loathe myself. I still get depressed, but it’s more over feeling trapped and helpless than over feeling useless and stupid and ugly and terrible. So that’s been a nice change, at least.

Weight stuff

My weight has been fluctuating since this whole thing began. I’m supposed to pay close attention to this because rapid weight gain could indicate fluid retention, which would be Bad. However, so far I have not seemed to retain any fluids.

I started out around 150, but since I started watching sodium, my eating habits have changed some, so my weight dropped to around 140. It has been bouncing around that level ever since. Here’s a lovely graph:

a graph of weights for September and October 2016

Weights from September and October 2016

That spike in the middle happened during the New York trip, when all dieting efforts went out the window. I think the current low is due to a days-long period of depression that I think I am now coming out of.

I’m not really…concerned about this? I just wanted to document it because it’s interesting. So here it is.

(I feel like 140 is probably where I should actually be, since that’s where I seemed to level out initially after weight loss surgery, so that will be my “goal weight” going forward.)

Weight goal: achieved! Sort of.

Me, July 20, 2012As of today I am at the weight at which I said I’d be content, 138 pounds. I look good. I feel great. At this point I could just say “mission accomplished” and go on with my life.

But there’s more to these life changes than meeting an arbitrary weight goal. The post-surgery weight loss period lasts up to two years, and I’m just now ten months in. There’s a whole year left in which I can work to sculpt away my remaining flab. And after that, it’s not like I’m going to go back to eating and living the way I did before. My food tastes have changed, and I am loving how energetic working out is making me. I’m looking forward to maintaining a healthy lifestyle forever.

I mentioned before that I wasn’t going to be paying as much attention to weight. And I haven’t been; I rarely weigh in. But I’ve decided that when I do, I want the various trackers I use to reflect my current reality. I’ve reached one goal. Now it’s time for a new one.

Today is my new “start date”. Based on my weight loss slowdown, I decided a pound a week was a reasonable rate. I put in 125 as my goal weight; two programs tell me I can reach that weight by the end of October.

I don’t know if I’ll actually get there–muscle weighs more than fat, and I expect to gain more muscle as I continue working out–but it’s nice to have a modified plan with a fresh goal line to start with.

Here’s how my SparkPeople goal line looked originally. As you can see, the deceleration of my weight loss caused my tracking line to approach the goal line (click to embiggen):

Weights from September 26, 2011 to July 23, 2012 with goal lineHere are my weights from April until now, showing the approach more dramatically:

Weights from April, 2011 to July 23, 2012 with goal lineAnd here is the beginning of my new goal line!

New weight loss goal and start of goal lineI’m pretty excited to start with a new plan and goal, and I’m looking forward to seeing how things play out in the next three months.

No longer obese

me at 167 poundsAs of yesterday morning, I weigh an astonishingly low 166.6 pounds. That’s a hundred pounds less than the highest weight I ever reached, and 90.4 pounds less than I weighed on September 26, 2011, the day I had weight loss surgery. Now, six months out from that surgery, my BMI has plummeted from 45.5, class III obesity, to 29.5–toward the top of the “overweight” range.

I am no longer obese.

I am no longer obese.

I knew this was coming. Whenever I saved my weight in Weightbot on my iPhone, it would tell me my BMI, and I knew that as soon as I hit 29.9 I would no longer be obese. I felt like I was in the 30s forever. I thought about checking to see what weight I’d need to reach to get out of the obesity range, but I somehow never got around to doing that. This month I ended up traveling a lot and didn’t have access to my scale…so while I usually try to wait a few days to a week between weigh-ins, yesterday’s came after a far longer data-free period than usual.

I didn’t even really realize it had happened when I tracked my weight. I saw the 29 and it just didn’t register. It was only this morning, when I weighed in on the Wii Fit, that the truth resounded in my ears: a different, higher in pitch humpty-dumpty “you’re fat” melody, and the Wii Balance Board character, who for years has admonished me, “That’s obese!”, chirped instead, “That’s overweight!”

I don’t know how much more weight I’m going to lose. I’d need a BMI of 18.5 to 24.9 to be considered in the “normal” range; for my height, that would mean a weight between 104.5 and 140.5. I’m really not interested in weighing 104.5. My mid range, a BMI of 21.7 at 122.5 lbs, seems about as small as I’d want to go. I don’t really know what I’d look like at that weight, because in high school, at my most fit, I weighed around 145 to 150.

I don’t even really know what weight I want to be. I used to say I wanted to go for 125 and that I’d be happy with 140, but I can’t imagine what I would look like at either weight. I’m actually pretty happy with how I look now, although I’d like to get rid of some flab. I hope I don’t lose so much weight that my natural curviness goes away.

Regardless, I am extremely pleased with the results of my hard work so far, and I hope I can continue refining my body and becoming even more healthy. I updated the comparison photo I made three months after surgery, and included clothes sizes this time. It’s amazing to me to look back at the changes. (Click to embiggen.)

before and after photosI’m wearing the same shirt in the first two photos, and I thought about wearing it again in the next two, but once a shirt is too big for you, it starts getting unflattering. I did put it on this last time, though; here’s a picture. Rather than hiding fat, the ruffles now hide my lack thereof, which defeats the entire purpose! ;)

Bleh

I’m feeling depressed and tired. I don’t know if the depression is fed by the tiredness or vice versa or if they’re just coexisting phenomena.

Regardless, bleh.

I had some strange dreams last night. In the first one, I was really upset about how much weight I’ve gained, and I was thinking that I would never be able to lose it without surgery. But I didn’t know if I would ever be able to afford it. When I said this aloud, my mother immediately sliced open my belly and started cutting away parts of my organs. At this point I could see inside there, and it looked like how it looks when you cut fat away from chicken with kitchen scissors.

I was thinking, I know you were a nurse, and I know you witnessed this sort of procedure before, but do you really know what you’re doing? But I didn’t say it.

Then she was done, and I said, “This wasn’t an official surgery, so I won’t be covered if something goes wrong.” I must have been so traumatized by the thought that I could die that that part of the dream became a dream, and I was telling Mom about it.

“And so I thought to myself that I would never be able to lose the weight without that surgery,” I said.

“Well, duh,” Mom responded, and pulled out my flat metal spatula. She promptly split me open with it and did the surgery, and I watched it happen the exact same way.

This last bothered me so much that I woke up for real.

Somewhere in there I also dreamed that my workplace was on fire. It wasn’t my office as it is now; it was a narrower room. I ran into the smoke and started grabbing stuff.

“I don’t want to lose everything again,” I explained, coughing. I managed to save several toys–all toys that I used to have at the old apartment, that were of course lost in the fire. One was my Darkwing Duck bank, and one was my Sailor Moon figure.

It’s kind of funny; I have never obsessed about losing those toys.

I’m so upset and unhappy right now.

Sean says that I tend to have periods of depression that eventually pass. I guess I’m in one of them now. I hate my job and the thought of going back in tomorrow makes me want to cry. The thought of not being able to find a new job does make me cry. I feel trapped and helpless, like I can’t do anything except commit to things I hate in order to have the money to make myself feel better by buying things and eating out.

Every time I try to start something up to better myself, I do really well at first, and then I just taper off until I’m doing nothing again. It was that way with FlyLady, it was that way with my workouts…my house isn’t a mess, but it’s not exactly stellar, and I have to force myself to even empty the dishwasher. Meanwhile, my stomach keeps growing and growing and growing. All clothes are uncomfortable. I keep thinking that I could be pregnant, which is impossible, and thinking about it being impossible makes me more unhappy. Even if I somehow did manage to be pregnant, we couldn’t afford to have a baby. We spend every bit of our paychecks and we have no savings.

But since it’s impossible for me to actually be pregnant, now I’m thinking that I must be having a false pregnancy, wherein my body, acting on cues from my subconscious which thinks about having a baby all the time, decides that, well, maybe there is a baby in there, and responds accordingly.

Mari says that stress causes weight gain in the stomach, so that could be it, too :P

Either way, I’m tired of it, tired tired tired tired tired. I want to scream, and I want to go to bed forever. I also want to kick my boss in the face.

December 3, 1994, 6:26 PM – Beta Convention (16 years old)

Is it vain to love your own eyes? Mine are so wonderful, and it’s so great to have contact lenses so that other people can see them.

They’re a lovely shade of blue-grey, speckled almost but gradual enough to be a fuzzy conglomeration of color.

When I came to this convention I didn’t think I’d have much to write about. Turns out I have lots to say but no time to say it in!

Gotta go, but will return. -general assembly & dance time!

8:55- I’m back, & I’m not a happy camper. I was so excited before, but now I’m depressed. The thing w/Alex…I didn’t get to run for president…I didn’t win in Creative Writing. Barf! I must have next to no talent whatsoever. Occasionally I come off with a good line, but the rest of the time I must stink. (At least in timed writings!)

The reader doesn’t know about the thing w/Alex, does he? He’s a guy who kind of picked me up yesterday when I was depressed. I don’t feel like going into the details at this position of the earth’s rotation. Why? I’m just too depressed, bud.

So will I go to yonder dance? I haven’t any idea. I was going to go & wear my green pants outfit, but now I’m not too sure.

Want to know why I hate pictures? I look ugly when I smile.

I really do. I have a fat face and when I smile, all the fat pouches up and hides my eyes. I would have decently-accentuated cheekbones if I wasn’t so overweight.

And to think that this book was supposed to be a romantic tale of the life of a teenager. Tragedy sells, to be sure, but that’s not the kind of autobiography I wanted to write. Well, that’s life, and things never turn out exactly the way you expect them to. So I might go to that dance and actually have a good time. But most likely I’ll just get more depressed, because I’m not a very outgoing person. Oh well–going to try on my pants outfit now. —

9:13- I’m reverting back into the self-destructive hatred of Heather Aubrey of my sophomore year.

I hate myself! I was so rude to Alex, my writing sucks, Michael never really wanted to date me in the first place, I’m fat, I’m ugly, I’m stupid, and I cry over ignorant things. Like I’m crying now.

I’m such an awful person! No wonder poor Alex never tried to find me after last night.

My hideous ponch sticks out so far I look terrible in my beautiful pants outfit. My waist must be ten inches more around than it should be.

And I thought my creative writing piece was good. Just shows that I’m stuck up to boot.

I want to call Mom. I think I’ll try. No reason for her not to be home, unless she’s at work :(

Can’t. These phones don’t call long-distance.

My butt is so huge! And my flabby face dwarfs the only good thing about me (my eyes), so even they’re not beautiful.

I’m not going to eat dinner tonight. I need to lose weight. I’m so ugly. Maybe if I lose 15 pounds I’ll look good, but it will probably take more than that. (15 off would only put me at 135, and the average girl of my height should weigh 115. I’m lame, huh, weighing 150 now. That’s 35 pounds I have to lose, and of course, I can’t do it.

I’m so lazy, dumb, procrastinative, unmotivated, lethargic…I’d need a Thesaurus to cover all the facets of my horrible self.

It’s awful being this way and a perfectionist too. Being down on myself makes me even more unattractive than I already am.

Alex was such a nice guy! I’m such an idiot! He was caring enough to offer a depressed girl a place with him at dinner. (That would be me.) He was sweet enough to give someone a quarter to use the telescope out on the river.

He liked Star Wars!!

I’m such a fool!

I was consoling myself earlier with the thought that I’d never see him again, but that’s cruel.

I need to go to the dance and find him. Sitting up here rotting over self-hatred isn’t going to do me any good. I have to make amends for treating him the way I did!

11:27- I couldn’t find Alex. Plus, I had a horrible time at the dance, per my prediction. It’s probably my attitude. I expect to have a bad time, and it happens. Maybe someday I’ll be able to go to a dance and actually enjoy it.

I’d have to be outrageously thin though, so I could “shake it” without flopping my fatrolls. Yuck! Michael says he’ll teach me how to dance if I ever want to learn. I might take him up on that.

I was getting suicidal earlier. I hate that. Thought it stopped my sophomore year. But no, it started again this year. Great.

I think it’s George coming. Perhaps my bad thoughts will go away. I’m already feeling better because I took 2 Midols.

Malinda (one of my 3 roomies) brought a guy back to the room. Just like I brought Alex back here yesterday. That’s so sad.

I think I’ll go try to find him again, & then mingle w/ my friends. He should be leaving tonight.