the biting truth


Friday, February 27, 2009

bubble up the pain in my amazing childhood

I am humbled and amazed at the honesty and candor of my followers. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and encouraging me on this journey.

April mentioned that she had an "AMAZING childhood" in her comment on my previous post. [I like April, you should check out her blog. I love it. FYI] Since she had an amazing childhood, how could it possibly be the reason for her weight struggle?? What a great point.

Here's the thing, if you had asked me that last year, I would have said the same thing. [Not that I'm questioning the authenticity of April's childhood; it probably was amazing.] My parents are great people. They taught me and my siblings about Jesus Christ and his gift of salvation to all people. My parents "walked the walk", so to speak. Their relationship with Christ was real and still is real today. I know they love me and did their best raising me and my brothers and sisters.

That is one reason why it is so hard to admit the memories of hurt. They did not mean to hurt me. My mother had a hormonal imbalance. She would "loose it" sometimes. It was accepted in our family that that was "just mom". My dad learned to live with it and us kids were "vomited on", so to speak, every time my mother lost it. She would go days hiding in her room, unable to function.

Now, writing that, I can see the dysfunction in our family. But, growing up, that was "normal"; I didn't know this was not OK. As a mother of many children, I totally understand "loosing it". I get the intensity of stress. It has been hard for me to admit that my mother's behavior hurt me. I love her so much! I know she loves me and I believe she really and truly walks with the Lord. However, she is human and she made mistakes that shaped who I am today.

The Holy Spirit is like Hydrogen Peroxide; the Lord pours it on the wounds of our hearts. It bubbles out the ick so healing can begin. Part of the Thin Within program is allowing God into my heart. Surrendering the wounds; allowing myself to feel the pain of the wounds. It is hard, but we're doing it. God and me. I "went back" to those days where Mom acted like a child. I cried over the loss of my mother not being a mother in this area. I recognized that Jesus was with me, even during the pain. I gave Him my wound and hurt and asked Him to come heal my heart. And, you know what?? He did; he has! Praise God!

That was a few weeks ago. The past few days... well, let's just say His pouring more Hydrogen Peroxide on my heart. I can feel the bubbles bringing up another wound and I am really struggling to face it. Sigh. My heart cries out, "NO!" My spirit answers, "Surrender already!!"

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

my rain jiggles

So, it is obvious that I hate the fat. Who loves flab? We weren't meant to jiggle... [Well, maybe our rears were meant to jiggle. Isn't that supposed to be sexy or something? But not the belly. Definitely not the belly...] The struggle to get the fat off is long. And hard. No matter how you tackle the darn thing.

But the exterior of myself is nothing compared to the inner turmoil. The storm that rages and rains. Fat is like seeing the rain without seeing the storm clouds. Every time we see a fat person, it should be a clue that there was a storm somewhere in that person's life. Fat is the rain from my storm.

I rarely make it to the movies, but I did catch one the other day. Unfortunately, it was awful! It was "Mall Cop". I thought I would love it, but I so did not. I felt very made-fun-of throughout the movie. Fat people in general were the butt of the joke. Ick. At one point of the movie, the shy and backward mall cop heads to a party. There, he and the other fat boy had a nacho-eating contest. Because, you know, that's what us fat people do at parties. Every fat person wants to highlight their fatness and show off their pig out abilities.

There are things in my past that I have buried so deeply that I cannot see it for the layers of fat that cover it up. I smile blindly when you ask me about my childhood. Oh yeah, it was great. No, I was not screamed at. Oh, no that wasn't me. Yeah sure my mother said, "I wish you'd never been born"... but I know she didn't mean it so I am FINE. So totally and completely fine.

Pass the chocoalte, please.

Monday, February 23, 2009

the up-chuck option

After a week of the stomach bug floating around my house, I have given cause to consider bulimia as an option for weightloss. Now, I've been a fat girl for atleast 10 years and this is not the first time I consider vomiting as a weightloss tool. In my weakest and most desperate moments, I have even tried to gag myself.

I am not really into throw up, though. It is gross. Plus, my gagging efforts [years and years ago] were to no avail. I ended that session just sitting by the toilet crying over my food addiction. Since then, God, in his mercy, continues to show me the light at the end of the tunnel. Bulimia is not the answer. There is no freedom there; only more bondage.

And, truly, a week watching my kids throw up, cleaning puke off endless sheets, bathing the toddler at midnight, and then vomiting myself after a night of intense stomach aches... really doesn't make me want to jump on board the bulimia boat.

OK. So, I just read over my post and it's kind of gross. Sorry about that....

Here's something that frosts my cookies, though: Why is it that insurance will pay for treatments of bulimia and anorexia, but not overeating. I need help, too!! Basically, right now, I am treating my eating disorder with counseling. Reading the Thin Within material, is like self-counseling sessions. Well, counseling sessions with God... If I may be so forward. Also, several of my friends around here in fat girl land are reading the book, too. We are praying with each other and encouraging each other. That is muy importante.

Anywho. Cool to see 35 Followers down there. Feeling very followed. :)

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

the numbers drama

I am feeling very fat and stupid right now. I have gobbled up about a pound of green M&M's. Yes, green. Did you know the company put out solid green M&M's for Valentine's Day? Yea, there's something about the green ones... supposed to make one horny or some such silliness. Um, for me, I think they might just make me fat. Sigh.

Anyways. I thought I might blog about my weight history. Just to fill ya in. 'Cause, ya know, you guys really care about that kind of thing, right?
  • So you already know when I hit 200 pounds. That was around 16-years-old. Let's back up a little. My first diet. Sixth grade. I think I weighed about 145 pounds. My sister and I found a diet in a Woman's World magazine of my mother's. This was the first time I really became aware of calories and fat grams.
  • A year later, I weighed about 160 and my whole fat family joined TOPS [Taking Off Pounds Sensibly]. My mother lost 100 pounds [has since, I'm sorry to say, gained it back]; my father lost about 40 pounds [gained it back, plus more]; my brother lost about 25 pounds [still looks great]; my sister lost about 20 pounds [gained it back plus lots more]; and I lost about 20 pounds [um, DUH, gained it back plus lots-ish!]. I hit 143 at the end of our TOPS experience. That was my goal weight. I maintained it for about two weeks. Then, the whole family quit TOPS and we all got fat again.
  • It is truly a blur from 143 to 200 pounds. Somewhere from the eighth grade to tenth grade the pounds packed on. It was a very stressful time frame for my family, and I began to turn to food for comfort.
  • Went to a college. Gained about 20 pounds per semester. Left after about three years weighing about 280 pounds. Since college was stressful, and I ate when stressed... pretty easy to figure out why the pounds crept up.
  • Joined WW April 2002, weighing in at a whopping 300.8 pounds. Yep. My highest weight.
  • Ten months later, after following WW points program perfectly, I weighed 200 pounds. I was the happiest 200 pound person ever. 200 pounds felt skinny compared to 300 pounds.
  • Lost another eighteen pounds, bringing my weight down to 182 after my wedding in April 2003. My lowest weight since childhood.
  • Gained up to 195 after coming off WW. Got pregnant and gained 35 pounds.
  • Pregnant again, weighing 235 post pregnancy. Gained up to 243 before discovering another pregnancy.
  • Pregnant once again with Number Four and maintained the 267 weight until the last month. Nine months pregnant with my fourth baby, I weighed in at 273.
  • Baby came. Lost about 10 pounds. Gained it. Lost it. Gained it. Now I am at the "lost it" stage again. Hoping to not ever see it again.

OK. So, now you know. FYI.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

not me monday

Not Me! Monday again. It's been a good-ish week. Check out MckMama's tell all over at her site. After you read mine, of course. :)


It was not me who decided to eat the skin (fried skin) of the chicken breast as opposed to the real meat. After all I am not only eating when I am hungry and stopping when I am full. That would be like, what, how skinny girls eat?? I am so a skinny girl. ;)

It was not me who went grocery shopping twice this week and passed up candy bar treats in the check out. I do not celebrate small victories.

It was not me who stood in the kitchen, snitching the rest of the chocolate covered rice krispy treats at 4:00 in the morning. While holding the wide awake baby. If I did eat that chocolate, I certainly did not chase it with some milk and call it healthy. I am not in denial. Mm-mm. Not me.

That's it for me. By-sers!

Saturday, February 14, 2009

humongo boobs and a wanna-be-flat-stomach

I learned yesterday that when I smoosh my flabby belly against me so that it is "flat", I look pretty good. This gave me hope because 1) If I never loose the very round butt, I can still look great and 2) oh, I forgot number two.

Why do we stand in the mirror and criticize ourselves. I made the mistake of sitting in front of the mirror the other day and can we say "roly poly"??

Sigh. It's not that I think I'm disgusting to look at. I like my hair. I have been told I have nice eyes. Frankly, my husband thinks humongo boobs are great. But, for me, personally, I would like to magically twitch my nose and loose about 150 pounds. OK, OK, I'd settle for 120 pounds. Heck, just take way one hundred pounds, and we'll call it even.

Alas, no magic happens and my nose is getting itchy. I must plod along in this fat body and get there myself. Well, with Jesus, but you know what I mean.

Tootles! Have a happy Valentine's Day!

Thursday, February 12, 2009

i do not love me

Here's a revelation for ya. I do not really love myself. Yep. If I did love myself, I would take care of me. I would not stuff my face to the point of a belly ache. I would go for a walk every day. I would not keep eating even when I know it hurts me.

I don't let my children have more than two cookies; why do I eat the entire jar? I take better care of my kids [not to mention, my husband] than I do myself.

It is a shocking realization, but I don't think I believe I am worth it.

What will it take to make me want to take care of me? God tells me in Psalm 139 that I am "fearfully and wonderfully" made. "His works are wonderful". That means ME! If I could really grasp His love for me; if I could truly wrap my frail mind around what his LOVE means to ME... I just might be free. Free to take care of this fearfully and wonderfully made person.

Now, that's a Valentine's Day thought.... Anyways....

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

lacy wedgies

I thought they would fit. I dug the sexy, lacy undies out of my underwear drawer. Beneath the granny panties I wore through the last pregnancy. The granny panties have begun to hang a bit loosely on my rear, so maybe, just maybe the sexy ones will fit.

Here I sit. Quite uncomfortably. Lace digs into my fleshly flesh. I have an acute wedgie. Not too comfy. I guess I need to come down a few more pounds. Pounds from the rear.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

a little bit of thanks and a little bit of victory

Thank you, kind gals. I so appreciate your words of encouragement and support. I feel like we are this ring of fat girls, cheering each other on. (Oh, please don't be offended that I called you fat. You know, I call myself fat, so it's OK.)

Victory tonight. I did not binge. I ate a little bit of dinner. Interrupted by crying children. Hours later, nursing the baby, I noticed the God-given sign of needing to eat: hunger. Yea; I get to eat! I ate a little bit, stopping at a "five" (you know, not too full; not too hungry). Then, that was it. Here I sit, and my stomach is "just right". I feel great. Maybe I really will walk in freedom.

Monday, February 9, 2009

hoping to not die

You're right, Katster. Thanks for commenting on my blog and keeping it real for this obese girl. If I keep marching along, without making any changes, I will die. As you so eloquently put it.

Every fat girl needs to be reminded by a stranger that she is eating awful foods. Food that kills her. The sad thing is, I already know that!! I am addicted. That's what I keep saying. A.D.D.I.C.T.E.D.

BUT GOD! Psalm 30:2-3 says "O Lord my God, I cried to you for help and you restored my health. You brought me up from the grave, O Lord. You kept me from falling into the pit of death."

Back in January, God brought this verse to my mind. I am desperately seeking His face, remember? I need him. Like a baby needs its mother, I need Him. Like a ship needs its rudder, I need him. Like an addict needs its deliver, I NEED HIM. I believe if I keep following him and seeking him for freedom (like the Thin Within program teaches), God can and will be faithful to save me from the death I so deserve.

I do not want to replace my addiction to food with low-fat or sugar free food. I do not want to replace it with water. Or fruit. Or exercise. I want to replace food addiction with a fulfilling relationship between me and my Creator. This is my deepest desire. To truly not be hungry again.

"I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry again." John 6:35a
I'm coming, Lord! I'm coming!!

not me monday

It is "Not Me!" Monday. Check out MckMama's blogging fun at her site.

Here goes it.

It was not me who threw a bag of bon bons into the snack cabinet and growled at the innocent golden chocolates "you are not going to have the best of me!"

It was not me who at half a box of chocolates while in line at Chick-Fil-A. Well, a little less than half a box. I was hungry, after all. I mean not hungry.

It was not me who managed to spend $35.00 at Cheeseburger in Paradise while splitting the appetizer, the drink, the meal and the dessert with my husband. Cheez. Eating is costly.

That's it for me this week.

Friday, February 6, 2009

the 200 pound mark

I remember when I climbed over the 200 pound mark. I was a sophomore in high school. My family had moved out to the country and lived in a trailer house. A run down, holes in the ground, trailer house. It was an incredibly stressful time for our whole family. We were very poor. My mother stretched our already tight budget by buying cheap food. I remember a lot of bologna, beans and Cheetos.

It was during this time frame that the food addiction surged and really took a hold of me. We were supposed to sell chocolate as a fund raiser for a school program. It was "The World's Finest Chocolate"; remember those? Oh. My. Goodness. So, way too yummy. Anyway. [I got distracted by the memory. I think it really is the world's finest chocolate... OK. Coming back to this post...] So. Selling this delicious chocolate got the best of me. I think I might have sold one bar. I ate the rest in the bathroom. Hiding. Often, I would take two at a time into that tiny bathroom, close my eyes, and eat the sweet chocolate.

I told my high school friend I weighed over 200 pounds. She was barely 5 feet tall and probably weighed a plump 130. She was chubby in a very cute way. She was the most down-to-earth cheerleader. I loved her. I thought she was beautiful. And here I was, confiding about my weight.

"There's no way you're over 200 pounds," she told me.

"Elena, I am!" I insisted, blushing darkly.

She dragged me to their family's kitchen and pointed to the scales. "No your not. I'll show you."

I sighed deeply and stepped onto the box. Sure enough, the red letters "203" glared back at me. I tried not to choke. "See, " I told her.

My friend stared at the numbers. She shook her head. "The scales are broke."

She never admitted that I weighed 200 pounds. She was a good friend.

Skinny people have this notion about "200 pounds". Like it marks the official fat person. "200 pounds" seems huge to a 130-pound-person. I remember when I hit 300 pounds. Now, that's a different story. For another post.

do not lie to me

Here's one for you. This book promotes being fat. Nice.

Not really. Get real people. It is not fun to be fat.

I remember the season on The View when Star Jones boasted about being fat. She kept saying she "liked herself" the way she was; fat. I watched her and KNEW she was lying. I am fat. I know what it is like. It is not fun to squeeze into chairs at restaurants. Or to roll out of the airline seats on airplanes. Or to have to shop in the "plus size" section of the store. Not fun. Do not pretend like it is.

P.S. Star Jones had some sort of surgery to help her loose weight. So, see. She really did not like being fat. She said it because she was in denial and was trying to make herself feel better. Been there; done that.

Thursday, February 5, 2009

flabby friday

Join Christa @ Quintooples for encouragement in the quest to be fit!

Christa with her quintooples hosts a "Flabby Friday" writing thing. It is meant to encourage us fat girls who do not want to be fat anymore. I am all for that. So here goes.

Is it technically cheating to eat six scoops of ice cream if I was truly hungry? And, while six scoops does sound like a lot of ice cream, it was really only two bowls. And, I was still hungry after the first. So, it wasn't cheating, right??

Yeah, yeah. I know. I should have stopped with number one. Maybe next time.

Note to self: quit buying ice cream.

ugly fat

Ugh. The fat is just sitting on me. Rolls over the top of my blue jeans. Yuck.

I caught a glimpse of a my reflection yesterday. Sadly, one of my fat rolls is as big as my boobs. Great. Very unattractive. I immediately sat up. Slightly better.

It is icky to be fat. I do not like it. I hate it. I do not want to be fat. It is a struggle to not be bogged down about it.

My husband says, "you are so beautiful!" I stare at him in disbelief. I contemplate his honesty. Is he trying to make me feel good? Or is he blinded by love? Am I truly beautiful? Even with fat hanging all over the place? Yuck. How can that be beautiful?? Silly man.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

this time i said no

Little by little, He is changing me. I do find myself impatient. Might as well be tapping my foot. Come on, change me, Lord!!

He is. Changing me, I mean.

One of my points of weakness is continual snacking throughout the day. And by that I mean I grab a bit of food every time I pass through the kitchen. Especially if there is something sweet. Every time I go into the kitchen, bite of food. Every time I walk through the kitchen to get to another area of the house, bite of food. While I'm cooking dinner, lots of bites of food. Get it?

Anyway. I realized this was a weakness and began to surrender this area to God. Part of the Thin Within program is to strive to only eat when you are hungry. So, snatching food simply because I am in the vicinity of food... Is not conclusive to only eating when hungry.

[Just to put this from another angle to get a stronger perspective... let's imagine an alcoholic. Someone dependent on alcohol to get through his day. Can you see him swiping swings of his poison all day? Ah, yes. See. My food has become an addiction just like the alcoholic's liquor.]

Yesterday, there were rice krispy treats (frosted with chocolate, of course) sitting on my counter. I spent the first few hours of the day, snitching bites. My "norm". Then God whispered to me. A gentle reminder of my convictions and my desire for freedom. I put a lid on the goodies (literally) and hid them away in the cabinet. Then I left the kitchen. I did not return to the kitchen without a specific mission. And I rested on the strength of the Lord to accomplish each little mission without snitching a bite of the treat.

I am excited about this little victory. For me, a food addicted woman, this is huge. We are making progress.

Monday, February 2, 2009

not me monday

i am joining the "Not Me!" Monday thing with MckMama. It is a time to fully confess while, well, not confessing.


It was not me who bought a dozen donuts. And ate them. One by one all day long. Not me. I do not know why the box is empty

It was not me who laid in bed crying in the arms of her hubby. Crying because of my addiction. I do not feel a desperation to loose all this awful weight. Not me. I like being fat

It was not me who dreaded weighing in on Feb 1st (my self-appointed day of reckoning). I did not glare darkly at the bathroom scales. Which are not still hiding under the bathroom cabinet. I did not brave those darn scales. I did not have a mini-celebration when I saw the horrid numbers drop. Slightly. It was so not good. Ah.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

the most incredible replacement for food

For what it is worth, I need to share what I have replaced with food. Alica (who I totally support and encourage!!) suggested I substitute my love affair with food by turning to gum. Or water. Or (the best option by all appearances-literally) to exercise. But, here is the problem with that wonderful (and very WW suggestion)... Gum, water and exercise do not "do it" for me. Gum can never replace chocolate. I love chocolate. I hate it that I love chocolate, but I do. What, in the world, can truly fill me up the way food fills me up???

The other day, I totally binged. I ate and ate and ate. I ate whatever I could find. I ate the rest of the leftovers from dinner. I ate a candy bar. I ate the rest of the ice cream. I sat in my rocking chair, watching nothingness on TV and stuffed my face. Finally, the night was dark enough and I took my aching belly upstairs for a shower before bed. As I climbed the stairs, I felt so empty. Ironically, I felt empty. Even with a belly stuffed full of my companion, food. How could this be??

I put this to you: I felt empty because I am trying to fill a void with food. A void that was never meant to be filled with anything but God. Sigh. [I know I just lost a lot of you with that one.. But, please stick with me.] I am a follower of Jesus Christ. I am in relationship with my Savior who, miraculously, is also my friend. Through reading a book called, Thin Within, I have learned that the reason I overeat is because I have a deep hunger inside. A hunger that screams to be filled. Since I was a girl, I have been attempting to satisfy this hunger with food. It does not work. That is why we can eat and eat and still feel so empty inside.

This past month, I have been turning to God for freedom from this food addiction. It sounds so extreme and unbelievable, but I am desperate for freedom!! I am tired of being a slave to food. I am tired of being overweight. I am tired of being hungry. In my desperation, I have taken my deepest desire to Jesus Christ. He says, "I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry again. Whoever believes in me will never be thirsty." (John 6:35)

I hope you keep following my journey. Watch and see. May I be a beautiful example of the freedom Jesus Christ offers out to all of us. Learn more at the Thin Within's website.

first weigh-in of the year

Well. I have lost eight pounds. I think I weighed myself about three weeks ago. Sometime in January. I only want to weigh-in every month. I think that will be a more accurate measurement of my weight. Instead of the daily fluctuations. Weight even fluctuates on a weekly basis with a woman's cycles, etc.

But mostly, I want to weigh every month because I do not want my WEIGHT to be the determiner of my success. We place way too much emphasis on weight loss. We should be celebrating the change in our behavior pattern. I want to be more excited about watching myself become free from the food addiction rather than being excited about loosing eight pounds. Know what I mean? It is the changes that will last a lifetime. Hopefully.