the Battle

The battle of the bulge.  It's a constant, on-going, obsessive issue with me.  I know I'm not alone.
I've heard the negativity, felt the shame and witnessed first-hand the cruelty and the impediments of being (I hate this word) obese all my life.  I don't recall ever being a part of the "thin population."  Maybe one time:  the summer of 1982.  I swam every day (sometimes twice/day depending if Mike or Murray Stanley were life-guarding at the Expo Pool), I walked and biked every day to the pool (afternoons and evenings) and was attempting the fit 'thing' during those first three weeks of volleyball practice as I began my freshman year.  I remember going to bed tired, not hungry and sore.  That fall I went to The Buckle and bought my first pair of 'designer' jeans that were a size 16...a first!  Since then, since always, it's been a struggle, a fight for dignity and a battle of my will.  I have always prided myself on looking good, no matter what - perfectly coiffed hair (I mean completely bitchin' hair), make-up, cute clothes (to some extent) and placing a big confident smile on my face.  I never really thought I was "that fat" until recently.  Let's face facts:  I am (I hate these words) morbidly obese.  I have an issue with food.  I think we all do at some point in our life; unfortunately I have had it ALL my life and never truly dealt with it. The problem is that you need food to survive; you need food to function.  You eat what tastes good! You eat what you want! You eat because you want more!  You eat on the go!  You eat because you want to; you think you need to and you overeat.  You eat because you are suppressing feelings.  You eat because everyone else is eating.  You eat because you want seconds.  You eat because it's just there.  You eat until you're a big blueberry (I am so Violet Beauregarde).  Then you wake-up, like I did and see what all this "eating" has done to you.  You are not the picture you have set in your mind; you actually see the person, the 'fat' person in the mirror and cannot believe it!  Oh the flood of emotions:  Where do I start?  What can I do?  Oh how I have let myself go!  What happened?  No wonder!  OMG!  And then the shame, the disappointment and the "shoulda, woulda, coulda's" start in.  You receive advice from strangers, from friends, from family. They all sound the same: do surgery!  No way!  That was not for me and frankly, will never be a part of who I am.  Weight loss surgery.  Hell to the no.  So where does one go from here?  For me, I did nothing.  I shoved it under the rug, I ignored the mirror; ignored advice; ignored my inner voice.  Ignorance is bliss, right?  The jury is still out on that but for me, as you know, the war continues to wage and rear its ugly head. But now, I am stronger than I have ever been - mentally, emotionally and very much committed to a goal and end result.  I am constantly pushing back, fighting the battle and now, Thank God, seeing progress and healing the battle wounds.  Don't worry, I have scars that will always haunt me and  remind me.  But I have a long, long road ahead. One that starts and ends with me.

Me? A writer, a blogger...I never kept a diary!

It's true.  I never kept a diary. I think there were two periods in my life that I attempted to document some life moments but I'd always go back and destroy them or roll my eyes and try to imagine "what the hell were you thinking, Christina?"  Mortification.  Giant step for me.  No time to recant or check my thoughts (there  always the delete button lol!).  Perhaps, once again, I will regret this and do what I did in 6th grade - blush deeply, roll my eyes and "die of complete and utter embarassment!"
Truth is...I am not a writer and I don't pretend to be.  I have always admired my sister for her ability to tell a story in person or on paper.  She has some mad skills. Me?  I am constantly checking, rephrasing and thinking about what I write for days when it comes to personal communication.  If you ask the 'professional Christina' to compose a letter, brochure, any type of pr, etc., there is absolutely no problem - I excel.  I think that's why I haven't pursued a Christmas letter in the last two years...it takes too long to compose; noting the ability to be succinct on a 5x7 card.  You need to be funny while telling about your "oh so wonderful" life because you want everyone to think you lead this enthralling life.  It's a constant battle:  make chicken salad out of chicken shit.