Good Morning Interwebz…. OK so it’s not morning at all.. but rather afternoon…
This week I will begin my transition to food! To say I’m excited would be an understatement. I am SO ready to have something other than a chocolate shake in me lol. These past 12 weeks have been a test of my will power, my determination… and my new-found ability not to binge. I have missed food terribly… but I think the time apart was something I really needed. Hopefully this time around my relationship with food will be a healthy one, more of a friendship than a combative stressful nightmare.
Yesterday, we (Bride, Bridesmaid, myself, and their fiance’s) went to try on our dresses for our first fitting. I have to say, leading up to the fitting I was a bit of a stress ball so I wouldn’t be surprised if there isn’t much of a chance on the scale this week. I had gotten it into my head that the dress wouldn’t fit… Well I was right! But in a good way LOL. You see, in my head, although I knew I’d lost 55 lbs, and 9 inches off my belly… I was still pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to squeeze into my dress….. being that it was SO close to the wedding if I didn’t fit… I may have just dropped from a panic attack right then and there. I remembered the first time I tried the dress on (a size 12……. Yep they stuffed my size 30+ body into a size 12 dress… looking back, I don’t even know how that was possible… and it barely was LOL)… I had gotten stuck IN the dress and needed help getting me out of it. Imagine you’re in a tiny room… it’s hot as HELL, not much room to maneuver… your body has broken into a full body sweat from the panic… and this dress… this beautiful dress… will…not….budge.
That was me! haha. I’d been able to get it on enough to waddle out and show everyone, post for a VERY horrible photo and waddle back into the room. I was sure I was stuck from the moment I got in it, but I smiled and prayed I was wrong… NOPE 100% accurate, could not get the fabric to move.. the fact that I was hot and sticky now just added to the clingyness of the fabric, I felt claustrophobic, I was certain that any minute the dress would burst at the seams and I’d owe a lot of money to these nice people.
Thankfully the lady helped me out, and with a few sturdy tugs I was FREEEEEEEEEE….. and dreading the moment I had to step back into the dress again LOL. Don’t get me wrong I LOVE the dress… it’s the first time in my life I’ve ever worn a dress that makes me feel like a princess.. the colours POP, and I just never want to take it off… but that first experience just….. *shudders*… I was afraid of my dress.
Cue yesterday, deep breaths, I unzip the dress and step in, fairly certain still that it won’t fit. I’m flustered and sweating, and wishing like hell my face didn’t piss when it gets hot because seriously facial pee is just not attractive y’all. The room was small, the air hot.. the AC in my car had been broken, so that probably didn’t help matters any.. all in all, I was starting to have flashbacks of the first time. Everyone outside the room had smiling faces… but I was afraid that I’d fail everyone and have not gotten small enough to fit into my dress. A brief moment of extreme panic when I first put the dress on because the under skirt had gotten tangled up over and through the bodice so for a moment I felt trapped… and stuck…. I couldn’t get the damned thing to go down… my worst fear was being realized.. I was still a fat sack of shit and I would never be able to wear anything pretty… all of this happened in an instant.. but it struck hard. Panic, fear, self loathing, so many regrets at what I’d done to my body in the past.. everything.. SMACK, full force… I wanted to curl up into a ball and hide.
Then I took a deep breath, hiked the skirt up over my head and began tugging on the fabric… I must have looked hilarious doing it. Thankfully I was alone in my tiny room LOL. The under skirt (or whatever it’s called) pulled free… and the dress just dropped into place…. Not only that, but it didn’t want to stop dropping! OMG Could that be true? Took a look in the mirror.. and heck ya it was! It was HUGE I was FLOATING in it.. I had to hold the dress up under my boobs or flash the world a big hello… Panic melted away to utter joy. I wasn’t that fat blob anymore… Granted I’m still a larger lady.. but NOTHING compared to what I was… the dress was billowing around me! Seriously.. HUGE!
Want to know the best part?
When I was originally measured (I think it was 2 weeks before I started program), they said a size 30 is the highest the dress comes in… and even at that, it would be TIGHT and may not actually fit in some places (as in I was too fat for a size 30)… more panic ensued as I tried to hide my embarrassment and utter fear about what if this program failed me… what if I lost nothing.. what if the shakes didn’t agree with me and I had to stop… so many what if’s flashed in that moment… I was too fat for a size 30…..
The lady wanted to order a size 26 when she found out I would be doing the optifast diet.. I was afraid that if I ordered a 26, when I was currently TOO FAT FOR A 30… I’d be tempting fates, and what if it didn’t fit… so we ordered a 28. Apparently this was being on the “safe” side….. At the time, safe to me felt like sticking with a 30 because holy crap I was already too fat for a 30!
Now, here I am standing in this little room, just me and the mirror.. and the 28 is SO baggy I can’t even wrap my head around it. They ended up having to take it in 2 inches on each side, and 6 inches off the hem (hahah yeah I’m short)… but that’s 4 freaking inches in total they had to trim off of the 28.. She said even if we’d ordered the 26, it would have still been too big on me. I don’t think the smile left my face even for a fraction of a moment the entire time I wore that dress…. that bright, princess-y, magical dress…. The only reason I haven’t posted pics yet is because the wedding isn’t until Aug 9th… and I’m totally not going to spoil the surprise. Who knows, maybe I’ll be even smaller by then 😉
So here I am, 2 days away from starting transition… and last weigh in I was SOOOO close to breaking the 300lbs mark… What do y’all think? Will this week see me in the 200’s for the first time in……. about 5 years?? Even if I step on that scale and it says 299 I will be doing mental back flips all over the land.
I can’t express my gratitude enough, for everyone who’s stood by me during these last 12 weeks… for those I know who will continue to stand by me in the coming weeks/months/years… Who knows how long it will be before I have a “normal” relationship with food… Here’s to hoping the transition to food goes as well for me as the transition away from it did. I miss food… I miss flavors, and textures, and chewing… I miss crunchy and salty and savory…. But I’ll admit that a big part of me is also still afraid.
I have the right tools, I have the drive to succeed.. I have the support… but as with all addicts, there is a chance for eventual relapse. I never want to end up where I was when I started this program… It’s my worst fear. I hope you never have to know how isolated and lonely and loathsome it can feel being that size… feeling like the world was built for someone MUCH smaller than you, and that you are not welcome here. Feeling as though every soul on earth is judging, and making fun of your look, your size, your clothes, every morsel you put into your mouth… every waking moment I hated myself. There was never relief from the constant pain and anger and frustration…. the closest I’d get would be while bingeing. Food made me feel good… it tasted yummy, it filled me up, and weirdly it felt like it filled a hole inside of me (Duh stomach.. i know I know)… But food was there for me… Food was my drug… my alcohol.. my sex… Food was everything bad, and everything good… Food was my life, my darkest secret, and my source of pride (I’m a good cook, and a cake decorator… and everyone liked my cooking/my cakes… that’s what I mean by pride…. not the fact that I was bingeing or sneaking food behind everyone’s backs )
I have had 12 weeks of freedom from my drug of choice. 12 weeks where I didn’t have to plan every second of the day around when I could get my next fix…. 12 weeks of my body not feeling like it would collapse or that I would pass out or die if I didn’t get my next meal ASAP. 12 weeks of relief. I have never felt so happy in my life…. In all honesty… I can not tell you what will happen once I am eating again. I can’t refrain from food for the rest of my life, much like an alcoholic might with booze… But I think I’m ready to handle it. I hope I am…. and when all else fails, I’ll blog… or better still, I’ll sit here in my Maid of Honor dress, enjoy how big it is on me, and blog… If I could capture that feeling in a bottle, I know I’d be OK.
Thanks for sticking with me and hope you had as great a weekend as I did!