I have started this first sentence a thousand times with a thousand different words, in a thousand different ways. And that is all I got. I don’t know how to start this except with the truth, I am addicted to food. It’s a real thing for those of you out there that are like, “is she for real?”. You can see what Food Addicts Anonymous has to say if you want to read more.
I have always struggled with food. I was stick thin in high school because I rode bikes with my best guy friend every afternoon, or we’d go hiking through the woods. My high school was huge, and my classes were everywhere, so I was active all the time. Not to mention, I ate salad or chicken fingers every day for lunch, except on the days they had pizza. (once upon a time school pizza was delish!) However, after school I would pig out on Doritos and spoonfuls of peanut butter, and melted cheddar cheese on a plate. <—that my friends is one of the best snacks of all time. Then I got pregnant with Kayla. Y’all my midwife told me that I was too thin for my height and that I was undernourished, she said I needed to gain weight for myself before I could begin growing a healthy baby. I took it to heart and ate everything that I could get my hands on. I gained 70+ pounds. It was harder than hell to get off, and took years. It was during those 9 months that I was pregnant that put me on a path of out-of-control eating that quickly became a habit. Looking back at the ripe old age of almost 34 – I would have laughed at her and found somebody else. I know now that what she said was completely absurd! I was healthy, my BMI was perfect, and I was hardly ever sick.
I have gained and lost so much weight over the course of the last 16 years that I have reached a wall. I weigh more now then I did when I gave birth to Kayla. I eat almost every hour that I am awake. I drink sweet tea and coffee with so much sugar that, like they say here in the south, “a spoon could stand up in it.” I used to think I was addicted to the sugar. That just isn’t the case. It’s the food. I like to eat, whether it may be salty or sweet, savory or dessert. Food is food. I have heart burn every day. I can’t find a distraction, because where there is a will there is a way. You can’t keep an addict away so easily. I can eat and talk on the phone. I can eat and read a book. I can eat and walk outside. I can eat and do almost anything.
I find that even when I’m eating whatever it may be at the moment, that I’m always thinking about what to eat next. It’s a sickness.
I hired a nutritionist years ago, and lost enough weight to win a fitness challenge online. I gained that back. I thought that I had finally broken the addiction about 5 years ago. A good friend of mine and I decided to lose weight together. We were pretty close in weight and height, and we were both unhappy. We worked, sort of together, just in different classrooms. We were never really in “competition” with one another, but that whole buddy system thing worked. I was feeling great about myself. I lost 22 pounds. I worked out every day, I felt awesome. I made better choices when it came to food. Then I skipped a workout or ten, got out of the habit, and started eating junk. The weight came back plus several pounds.
I know that I’m not “fat”. I just don’t feel healthy anymore. Even though for whatever crazy reasons my blood work and cholesterol comes back better than most patients then my allergy dr has ever seen. When you get winded from doing regular household chores, your not healthy. I am the person who eats food without all the artificial ingredients, for the most part. I am the person who doesn’t buy junk food, but bakes it from scratch instead. I am conscience about what I put into my body as far as ingredients go, but I also am aware that I eat in amounts that are extreme.
Don’t put your husband in the situation like I did. I told Zack that I was addicted to food, I ask him to help me. I told him to stop me from eating things when he knows I’m not hungry. (for example, right after dinner is over) I didn’t get mad at him when he ask me if I was hungry. Not even a tiny bit. I told him no, and then snuck and ate it. That helped further the addiction because then it was like a game to see what I could get away with eating without him or my kids knowing that I had eaten it.
In the past 6 months I have tried to watch what I eat, count calories, use My Fitness Pal, join challenge groups on various social media sites, and workout. Nothing is helping. I feel as if my willpower is at the bottom of a barrel some place. I can’t not eat the entire box of chocolates from Valentine’s Day. I can’t not eat all of the cookies that I made for a blog post last week. I also can’t seem to make it without my nightly cup of hot chocolate jammed full of homemade marshmallows. I bought all new pants in the fall/beginning of winter, and they are almost to tight to even wear comfortably anymore. I really tried to put into my mind that my mother was a size 12 for as long as I can remember, so being a size 12 is perfect. I have finally reached a point where it’s not about a number on a waist band or a number on the scale. It’s how you feel about yourself.
I am starting a new weekly series, running at least for my first round of The 21 Day Fix, which runs for 3 weeks. I’ll post once a week about the food (I am still feeding a family and refuse to cook separate foods when it comes to dinner), the workouts, and how I’m going with everything. Your going to get the ugly honest truth. Because y’all know what? I know it’s gonna suck.
I have to do something now. I have to break the addiction to food.