Apparently rock bottom was, in fact, not the bottom.
Friday night we went out with a group of friends & had a great time. I was feeling that Friday "high" the Western world gets the day before the weekend. I've felt down so much lately, & feeling UP was heady. We went to a local pizza place, & I had two drinks, & felt giddy. I laughed & had fun. I ate breadsticks & pizza, just like everyone else.
The next day, I felt rotten. I ate too much all day Saturday, and felt the sugar affects in my mood & my bloated body. And the SAD impact was horrible.
Saturday night we took the kids to play indoor golf, & my size 16 jeans weren't loose. They fit. I'd just washed & dried them, so they were doing that "fresh from the dryer, tighter than usual" thing, but still. I started crying & had to stop myself because we were getting ready to leave. I felt horrible all night, but had to make myself have fun because it was our family time. And I love, love, love my husband & my kids. But I don't love myself right now. So I was faking it a good part of the night.
Sunday I could not get out of bed. Sunday morning I felt crushed under the weight (no pun intended) of it all.
I teach Sunday School to the 2 & 3 year olds (which I love doing--they are precious, fun kiddos) and I couldn't make myself get out of bed to do something I love & see children I love.
I wanted to crawl in a hole & stay there until... until.... well, I guess until the sun came out or I melted away to next to nothing. I guess I didn't think about the "until" very much. I just wanted a deep dark hole to crawl in and stay in.
So I did. My husband let me stay home Sunday morning & taught my class for me. Whether or not this was love or enabling, I don't know. But he knows me well enough to know when I say I can't, I can't.
I stayed in bed most of the day. I slept, I watched TV. I ate. I came out in the evening to hang out with Mark & the kids & watch football & eat dinner from Papa Johns (more breadsticks, more pizza).
Then Monday was MLK Day & the stock market was closed, so we stayed home from work. I felt better yesterday morning. I didn't need a hole to crawl in at least. I slept late, but when I got up I was productive. I did laundry & cleaned the kitchen. I also got a bath & walked on the treadmill for 30 minutes, and stretched & did some crunches. Then we took the kids to the children's museum, and we all had fun together. I ate better. No pizza, ha. I wasn't perfect but I did keep the junk food out at least.
Last night I did more laundry (it. never. ends.) and watched some TV. I cleaned out my workout clothes drawer & packed away my size Mediums to make room for my size Larges. I got my weights out from under the bed & did some arm work. I haven't done that in ages. It felt good. At least it was SOMETHING.
This morning, I thought I better weigh because I hadn't in a while. I had already had my coffee & breakfast, and I normally only weigh "empty" (which I know Vickie has a strong opinion against, & I'm sure she's right--empty doesn't paint the real picture for most of Us).
So I wasn't empty. But I sure didn't eat an 8 pound breakfast.
I weighed 179.0
That, ladies, is the precipice for me. 180 is beyond what I can wrap my head around. It's The Weight that I hit when I'd been on prozac in my mid-twenties & gained 40 pounds in one year--the weight that made me miserable for a decade. The weight that I swore I'd never see again.
And now I'm one freaking pound away from it.
I felt so helpless & hopeless this morning. More "why am I like this?" and "how am I ever going to lose this weight?" and "where's that hole I can crawl back into?"
But, it does help to write out the past four days & SEE what I ate & how I behaved. So I can SEE the WHY behind 179 pounds.
It's not pretty. No wonder I gained weight. TV, Pizza, Sloth. That would put weight on Twiggy.
So. I have no idea where that leaves me, other than I'm not giving up. I need to go to the thrift store & buy some size 14 clothes. I have nothing to wear, but I'm not spending a lot of money on clothing I don't plan to be in for long. I need to stop watching so darn much TV (I'm hooked on Battlestar Gallactica on Netflix Ondemand--it's like a novel you can't put down). I need to find the "magic" from 2007 that gave me the consistency I needed to lose 50 pounds in 7 months. I need to get my head out of this self-inflicted hole in the ground & DO something about this.
Today, that means blogging. And hopefully going to the gym at 3 p.m. today. Then, finding the next step & the next & the next.
I'll be here again soon. It's my lifeline right now. I've tied a knot & I'm holding on. I don't want to fall any further.