Under Construction
In a lot of ways, losing weight is exactly how I imagined it would be. The euphoria of buying progressively smaller clothes, of having your old clothes, that you were once so uncomfortable in (because you were uncomfortable in you) be too big to wear anymore, of having all those boys who wouldn’t give you the time of day before be interested in what you have to say (like they’ve never met you before - assjacks) but in some ways (damn, let’s end this sentence, Henry James) it is wholly unexpected. Period - see, I can finish a sentence.
Where was I? Ah, yes! The unexpected.
I know what it’s like at the beginning (I don’t have the emotional distance to say anything pithy about that yet) and I know what it’s like to succeed (and that feels like Tiger Blood!) What I didn’t expect is how I’d feel in the middle.
One hundred pounds is a lot to lose; it’s an Oompa Loompa, it’s a supermodel, it’s a lifetime supply of Rice-a-Roni. It takes a long time to lose it in a way that will keep it off and train me to maintain it (because let’s face it folks, my biggest obstacle has always been me.*)
So, here I am, nearly 60 pounds in and I’m sometimes amazed by the difference and I feel AWESOME about myself and sometimes all I can see is the work left to do. I definitely won’t be wearing a bikini…ummm…ever, but more often than not, I look the way I want to look (clothed, anyway, but this isn’t *that* kind of story).
This is a story about the war.
No, it’s not that, either.
It’s a story about change, I guess and how change is both exhilarating and scary and how you can never tell from day to day which is going to win.
I worry sometimes. About gaining it back, about whether I am obsessed or becoming so, about being able to stop, about getting weird diseases (but I think that last is likely unrelated).
I worry that I can’t lose it all. That I’ll never get to my goal. I sometimes think that I’d be pretty happy staying here. I can comfortably tie my shoes, ride roller coasters and airplanes, buy clothes in the Women’s section, cross my legs, climb stairs…
But my body isn’t done yet. Why come this far and not finish it? So, I guess I’ll get there the best I can and try to figure out what’s next once I do.
*don’t go getting all superior, now, you’re your own worst enemy, too - nobody else gives that much of a damn about us, but I digress
