So I have been thinking and I have come to the conclusion that I need to go back in time. Put it down find out what happened,if anything, to put me on this road to self destruction. It hasn't always been with food. I have a definate history that I think I am going to explore openly and let it out there for anyone to read. Where I have been what I have been through and maybe just maybe find the healing that is necessary to maintain this healthy lifestyle I so adore right now.
Whenever I have ever been in counseling of any sort they always seem to try to come up with something, anything that might have caused me to constantly tear my "being" apart. I really don't have any deep seeded secrets in my closet of life. Nothing that I can see that made me do the things I have done. There was no abuse of any kind. I grew up in a normal family with strong Christian values. I was the baby.
Anyways, I guess my point is I do not want to ever relapse and regain the weight. The statistics are not good for people that lose large amounts of weight. I think it is something like 1 out of 10 keep it off! I am not liking the sound of that. It can be done though I have a 10 percent chance of beating the odds. I am determined to do it and want to spend the rest of my life in my true body. Not my fat suit.
During this time of me writing it will be very random. I don't know where I am going with this, I just don't. A warning for the faint of heart, I have done a lot of things in my life that most people would never ever consider doing. I will be going there. I think I must. There are definate times in my life that stick in my head as constant reminders of where I do not want to go again.
First of all I grew up in Houston as a chubby child. There was nothing behind it other than poor eating habits. It was a time of 2 liter coke bottles and ding dongs wrapped in foil. So I was overweight and didn't really understand nor did my parents the pain that comes with that. It was a time when children were not overweight. There was no epidemic. I was alone in my size for most of my childhood. The teasing and childhood banter is what causes the pain and suffering to build. Not knowing at such a young age that you are treating your pain with food, my parents knew nothing about the emotional side of weight and how it can affect you and your soul. They are from the 50's when things weren't talked about. At least in my home that is the way it was. Elephant in the room syndrome. Counseling,therapist? What's that?
By the time I was 10 my parents decided to move to a small town called Brenham. They had there reasons that I didn't understand until years down the road. That is a whole other episode though. So, here I was in this small town with all new people who didn't know me or who I was and to tell you the truth they didn't care. The clicks were formed and I was not very desirable as a friend. I was this sloppy looking girl who was ten and going through that ugly phase that all kids go through. BAD timing to move. But,whatever. I had noone and was left to endure the wise cracks of other students and the constant reminder that I was not like them. I had landed in hell. I hated where I was and had never really ever met people that were so rude and almighty in my life.
It was a tough 6th grade year and by the time it was over I was different. I had a bad attitude and a was no longer innocent in the sense that my heart had not been hurt. I had built walls around me that from the outside looked mean and solid. If they could have only seen the inside of my walls. How weak they were. How many cracks and leaks there were. They were breaking down as fast as I could build them. There verbal sticks and stones were shredding the foundation of my existance. I know now that if they only knew the damage,if they only knew how things would have been different. We are all human and have a heart. Kids though can be the most cruel people of them all. I was becoming a cruel person. I used hurtful words to tear people down. I had learned.
Home life at the time remained the same. I never spoke of my pain to my parents. I came home and things felt better. I had the comfort of food there. Wonderful homemade dinners that were adundant and flowing with gravies and butter. My mother is an awesome cook and I never let it go to waste. There was always ice cream and snacks, that look harmless in small amounts but every day to have those foods, is never good. I gained even more that year. I was 11 and was able to wear my fathers wranglers. I remember that. I wouldn't dare wear levis ever as the waist size is promenantly stamped on your backside.
This was the beginning of something bad that only now I can see. There was no way for me to know this then. Oh boy if I did. As I go on with this I know it will be difficult to write as I am uncomfortble and squirmy now knowing people will read this. It needs to come out. I am doing this for me.I am doing this for me. I am doing this for me.
