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Fat Girl Friday - 02/09/2024 - Week 6 - I'm Always Going To Be The Awkward Fat Girl In The Corner.... Until....

Almost a decade ago (GEEEEZ) I (for the umpteenth time) decided I really wanted to get back into writing. And this time I was going to make it count, I was just about to turn 30... Dirty 30's everyone called them.... I thought it meant I was going to get a whole bunch of hot steamy sex and make a bunch of questionable life decisions that I missed out on doing in my 20's... SPOILER ALERT.... It really means lifes just about to do you so dirty you can't think straight. I was going to write a book about losing weight. Except, not your normal text book "Eat this, not that" kind of weight loss book. More of a let's be HONEST about the problems being overweight brings, and I don't mean early heart attacks.

I mean the not so scientific problems that come with being morbidly obese. I'm talking about giving up on opportunities in life because you think you're "too fat" to participate, avoiding going into stores at all costs for fear someone will just THINK you're buying donuts, going way out of your way to duck any kind of compliments (usually disguised with a witty joke or a clever subject transition) because you THINK people are just saying nice things because they pity you for having such an ugly body, not owning any mirrors and avoiding looking in windows on the street for fear of the jab of pain in your stomach when you start bawling because you look like a cow walking on 2 legs kind of problems. The real problems that calories in - calories out = results doesn't fix.

At first thought I wanted to call my book "Fat Mentality" until I googled the term and it had already been coined by some text booky looking sites (and possibly even a book or two, I don't know, I saw it was already a thing and decided against it). So I went round and round again with different titles, while I kicked my 30's off GREAT. By 34 I was down almost 90 lbs (73 of which was lost in 1 year) , I wasn't making the BEST health decisions, but I was eating WAY healthier and paying really close attention to making sure I was active EVERY DAY, even if that meant I just take a quick 15 minute walk on a break at work.

And then I got pregnant (different story for a different day, LOL but I didn't plan it). I thought it would be easy to continue the health progress I'd made, even with being pregnant. Shit, I was 4 years into this journey and even though I hadn't come up with the title for my book, or know how I'd deliver the secrets to my health journey success to the world, I KNEW what to eat and how much to move to make the weight at least maintain while I went through the joys of pregnancy.... I thought.

Around month 4 I ran out of steam. Even just walking to and from the bathroom to my desk a million times a day to pee was exhausting enough to outweigh the consequences of just peeing my pants and blaming pregnancy. I wasn't able to sleep, because little Ms. Zabrina found it necessary to wake up and practice gymnastics moves at 3:30 AM DAILY, and my job was sucking me dry of any mental energy I had left after worrying how the hell I was about to be a single mom and not completely fuck it up.

The weight started to go up. It's okay, I was pregnant.

I started giving into my cravings (Alfredo is literally a NIGHTMARE pregnancy craving to have for someone who struggles with over eating and obesity, but there I was). I'd eat alfredo freely, I stopped counting my Weight Watchers points, I stopped tracking when I was able to make extra movement. I stopped paying attention to the little snacking calories I would rack up daily.

And the weight went up faster, It's okay, I was pregnant.

After a startling 8 week early entrance to the world, Zabrina took over the entire show (I'm not the slightest bit sad she did for the record). I wasn't ready. Honestly I wasn't even ready NOT to be ready! I had TWO MONTHS left before I had to be kind of ready.... But I wasn't ready.

After I had her the 1st 2 months were spent back and forth between the NICU for 19 days, learning how to function at home for 19 days, and then the PICU for 19 days (yea I really don't like odd numbers by the way). I survived on prayers, 5 hour energy shots, and either cafeteria food or fast food I grabbed on the way between the house and the hospital. I started drinking soda again (OFTEN, there was a fountain in the cafeteria with free refills!), and smoking again (I had quit before all this early arrival shenanigans kicked my willpower wall down). All the bad choices were back.

And the weight continued to go up, It's okay, I'm dealing with a very sick child and the Doctor's say she's not going to make it anyways.

She made it (like a fucking warrior), and when she finally came home for good it was a hell of an adjustment. And then when I went back to work, another hard adjustment. And then when Covid hit, WHOA a hard adjustment and next thing I know (a million and a half unhealthy decisions later) one day I can't sit up from playing on the floor.

And the weight had gone up more. It's okay, I can't exercise anyways.

That's when Fat Girl Rock Bottom was born.

All the down time and the far less work hours (since I was diminished to only working from home part time) gave me SO much reflection time. I reflected on ALL those chances and missed opportunities that were given up because of my weight. The fact the doctors really couldn't help me because my back muscles were too weak and there were too many discs to begin troubleshooting until one of them ruptured (Still hasn't happened thank the Universe, but it's still an issue more days than I lead people to believe). The fact that I couldn't even install Zabrina's car seat, nor pick her up out of her play pin because I was too fat (I lied to my family and said my C-Section incision hurt well after it was healed, they knew but nobody wanted to hurt my feelings and point it out. I reflected on the fact that if I wasn't fearful of "being the awkward fat girl in the corner" at a new job I'd probably had quit my job years prior. I reflected on the fact that if I wasn't the "awkward fat girl in the corner" when boys (not men) gave me attention I'd paid more attention to the red flags and not hyper focused on the fact they were actually even talking to me. And then it hit me... I will forever be the awkward fat girl in the corner.... Until.... I'm not.

My back is a far cry from healed, but it's manageable with minimal late night cry episodes with my bestie on the phone for support, and to remind me I'm not going to die even though it feels like it. I'm able to start moving more, and now that I'm learning to battle the depression, I have NO doubts that I might not be able to NOT be the awkward girl in the corner (I'll always be awkward, I don't like humans and I'm pretty certain they don't like me right back most of the time, they're just nice because I'm the awkward fat girl in the corner), but if I can some how re-gain that focus that I had back before I gave birth to the miracle daughter I'm blessed with.... there's a good chance I don't have to include fat in that description. Because I can still lose the weight that's held me back as early as my 7th birthday when I didn't want to jump in the ball pit at Chuck E Cheese in case I couldn't muster enough arm strength to pull my already overweight self back out. Because I still have the gift of movement, even if it does hurt like hell and is very minimal at best, I can still do this.

And it's okay, I'm healing. And this time I have an entire Squad behind me, I will write that book, and I will be the successful main character in the book that shares all the secrets of being stuck in fat prison, and all the keys to unlock those cells and find freedom and love for yourself, physically, mentally and spiritually.

~Until Next Time - Stay Humble, Stay Hydrated~

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