Thank you very much to all of you who have taken the time to drop me a note and check in on me. I really appreciate it. It actually means the world to me and I’m going to do my best to get back to you soon.

I’m doing okay on the whole.  Hanging in here emotionally, etc.  Food-wise and Weight Watchers-wise…yeah, well, let’s just not go there. My weight just keeps creeping up. Though I did see a loss last week and a couple of weeks before that.  I’ve been really really struggling with staying on plan, however, and I’m pretty much not succeeding.

I do have a few Non-Scale Victories (NSV) to share.  Even though I haven’t been sticking to plan or losing weight like I want to be, I’ve been spending a lot of time trying to love my body as it is now.  There are a LOT of things that really bother me about my body.  Some things I like, some things that disgust me.  But I’m working on acceptance, because this is who I am now until I get my ass back on plan regularly.  This is the body I have to live in.

To that extent, I’ve made peace with a few things.  Last month, I bought a pair of shorts! Three actually. Bermuda length, right below my knee, but still shorts! I had a couple of pairs on my last journey down the scale, but they were at a much lower weight and I ONLY wore them when mowing the grass.  But this year, since the temperature has hovered somewhere around one of the circles of hell, I got sick of jeans and just decided I was being ridiculous. I got tired of worrying about what people would think. I’m not happy with my legs right now, but they aren’t grotesque (at least I hope not). There’s no reason why I can’t wear them out and about. And so I have been. And they have become my weekend staple.  The first day I wore them out was a day that my mom and I did a lot of walking around downtown Kansas City. We went to eat and to see the new Transformers movie.  It was so incredibly hot, but I felt a lot cooler than I would have in heavy jeans.  And I felt so free. It’s silly, I know, but no one pointed and laughed. No one stared. It wasn’t a big deal.  Not a good shot, but here’s proof (and no, we won’t discuss my huge-ass feet or my ghostly whiteness LOL):

My least favorite body parts are my upper thighs and upper arms. The years of rapid weight gain and the weight I lost have wreaked havoc on my skin that no amount of weight lifting is going to help (I know this from experience). But since plastic surgery is never going to be in my budget barring some miracle, I’m trying to make peace with it.  I will definitely never be wearing shorter shorts, however. And, sadly, to my deep regret, will NEVER (never ever ever) be going sleeveless.

I have, however, gotten a little more lenient even with my shirts.  Before, I would never wear a shirt unless it AT LEAST hit right below my elbow. Most of my shirts are 3/4 length. But I’ve bought two shirts that sit a little above my elbow and have actually worn them several times. One is a little higher than I’d like, and I cringe every time I put it on and look in the mirror, but I try to ignore those feelings. Though I do spend a good deal of time tugging on the sleeves. LOL But like with the shorts, no one has said anything.  No one has made fun of me.  No kitties have died as a result. Life will go on. One woman even complimented me on the shirt at a store one day.  But again, I will definitely not be going any shorter than that.

But it is a bit liberating in a way. Tiny ways that express that I’m starting to love myself even at my current weight. Knowing now that I have friends that care about me no matter what definitely helps.

So are there any hurdles you’re forcing yourself to overcome in an effort to gain self-acceptance? Any road blocks that you just don’t think you can get past?

Post from Uncovering Pamela

Working on Other Things

Even though the number on the scale has been fluctuating a ton lately and I’m not happy with either it or what I see in the mirror, I’m still over 90 pounds down from where I started.  Of course, I then tell myself….well, it’s not the 160 you had lost.

But today, I got a bit of perspective.  Again.  And again, it comes in one of those every day moments that kind of wallops you upside the head.

You all know that my mom had knee replacement surgery a couple of weeks ago.  She’s doing better, by the way.  But today, I needed to get more ice for her to use in her ice pack.  I bought a 20 pound bag.  As I was lifting it into the cart and then into the car and then carrying it into the house and freezer, I found myself thinking, “damn this is heavy.”

And then it sunk in again.  I used to carry four and half of those on my body…every day…all day.

I can’t discount how far I’ve come.  I can’t discount the fact that I haven’t gained weight this year.  I may not be where I want to be, but I haven’t given up.  Even though I haven’t come as far as I’d hoped, this year was not a waste (waist? LOL sorry, couldn’t resist ) in the weight department.

Post from Uncovering Pamela

Perspective

I’ve always had body image issues.  I mean, I’ve been overweight since 3rd grade.  It’s no surprise.  I’ve spent the majority of my life comparing my body to other women and falling short.  (And yes, we all know what Brené Brown says about comparison – “[it] is the thief of happiness.”)

I firmly believe that there are many beautiful and many absolutely gorgeous overweight women out there.  I just don’t happen to think I’m one of them.  No, before you jump on me for being overly critical of myself, I’m just being totally realistic and honest here.  Yes, I think I have my pretty moments.  Yes, there are times I feel sexy and confident.  But those moments are almost always when fully clothed.  I’ve seen what my body looks like.  I’ve seen what the years of weight gain have done to it.  And a great majority of the time, I’m thoroughly disgusted by it and beating myself up about it, because I know that it is something I did to myself…something I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life.

I wrote this post about weight and romance a while back and I do still firmly believe that I need and deserve to find someone who will completely accept me as I am, but there are times that I despair of that happening.  Even if I do, will I ever be able to overcome the doubt?  I mean, I can’t even accept me as I am, how can I expect someone else to?  But I have to learn to accept it.  Because this is what I have.  I just don’t know how.

I can’t remember who, but someone once mentioned in their blog that they look at the results of their weight gain and loss as battle scars.  It’s true, and I try to look at it that way, but can’t help feeling that when I go out and am dressed nicely and feel good about myself that I’m engaging in false advertising.  A “what you see now, is not what you might see later,” kind of a thing.  And since I’ve recently started throwing myself back into the dating pool, this has been going around in my head constantly.  I’m ashamed of my body and what I’ve put it through.

There have been a couple of men in my life lately (one in particular) that have made me feel pretty and dare I say it, sexy…but the doubts remain and I’m sure will continue to remain.  A few men from the dating website my friends coerced me into joining have called me beautiful.  Of course, I’m flattered, but I think…they haven’t seen me in person.  I got a message from one of them over the weekend that said “I just wanted you to know that I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen ”  My first thought after grinning was “the poor boy needs to get out more.”  And then, “it’s probably just a line he uses on all women.”

This isn’t a matter of me feeling sorry for myself or beating myself up.  I’m just being honest about how I feel and my thought process.  I’m also not asking for pity or compliments.  I just know that I can’t possibly be alone in this.  I’m struggling through it.  I really am trying to work to accept what I’ve got and I know that no matter how much validation I may receive from a man, this is something that I need to accept within myself.

It also isn’t an issue of the weight I’ve regained…though that doesn’t help…because I felt many of these issues at my lowest weight.

So I have a couple of questions for you.

1. Are you married, single, etc.?
2. Regardless of your answer to number one, do you worry about being accepted as you are?
3. Are you totally comfortable with your body? (no need to go into detail)
4. If you aren’t, any ideas on how you think we can work on becoming more comfortable with our bodies as they are?
5. What do you think is your most beautiful body part?

For me:

1. I’m obviously single.
2. Obviously
3. Obviously not.
4. I have absolutely no idea.  I think it’s all just a matter of acceptance.  Just haven’t quite figured out how to get myself there permanently…..even I have my moments of feeling okay about myself.
5. I once had a friend tell me that she thought my lips were perfectly shaped, so I’ve always had that in the back of my mind.  I also like the shape of my eyes sometimes and my hair.

As I’ve been saying all along…I am and always will be a work in progress.  But even in this area, I’ve been making strides this year.  I’ve at least discovered that I can fake confidence somewhat decently if I try. LOL

Post from Uncovering Pamela

Body Image

I look at that girl who lost 160 pounds (that girl in the picture to the right) and I can barely even remember what she felt like.

Yeah, there just aren’t words for this feeling (anger, depression, sadness, anxiety, fear, shame don’t even come close) and a few tears might be involved.

But I’m allowing myself this moment and accepting that these feelings are absolutely useless to me right now.

I know what I need to keep doing and I’m doing it.  I will make it through this weekend on plan.  I can and will do it.  I’m not going to waste another week by blowing it over the weekend.  Not again.

In an eternal battle that mother nature seems to be waging against me, it’s supposed to rain today.  But I don’t care.  I’m going walking anyway, even if I have to traipse through the mud.

I know I’ve been struggling for a while now, and I appreciate those of you who haven’t given up on me.

I’m determined to get my groove back (without going to Jamaica).

Tonight, I’m allowing the sadness its moment.  Tomorrow, I’m kicking ass.

Post from Uncovering Pamela

Progress Pictures Are a Bad Thing

Flying has always been an anxiety-ridden experience for me.  The only couple of times that I remember not worrying about fitting in the seat were when I was in 1st grade and flying to Florida (I was a skinny kid and that was before I knew about body image problems) and last year when I flew to California.

When I was in college, I flew at least once or twice a year, and usually on Southwest.  On most (all) of those trips, I weighed quite a bit.  Supposedly this policy of theirs has been in effect for 25 years, but I never had a problem.  I was lucky, as most people would have considered me HUGE.  Unfortunately, I’m fairly close to the weight I was then now.  I could always lower the arm rests and buckle my seatbelt, but sometimes even I’ll admit it was a tight fit.

Every time I flew, I always remember crossing my arms over my chest and squeezing myself to try to take up as little room as possible.  I remember specifically one time in which the man sitting next to me (I was in the window seat) told me that it was okay, that I could relax.  I was embarrassed that he noticed, but was thankful for his kindness.

The common thread that I’ve seen throughout a lot of the blog posts about this incident is that nowhere is there an outcry (other than in those blogs) over the fact that the seats themselves (not to mention the leg room) have gotten smaller and smaller over the years in their effort to make human beings into sardines (as Kate Harding in the Salon article above mentioned).  It’s always about the bottom line.  You think, sure, yeah, well it’s a company, of course it’s about the bottom line.  But you see this trend in so many other areas – look at the food processing plants, etc.  Quality has continually been bumped to make room (ha) for quantity.

So what about you?  Do you worry about flying?  Have you had any bad experiences with Southwest or another airline?  By the way, I remember flying American Airlines coach to New York in 2003 (at about my current size -  maybe a little more) and thinking the seats were huge!  Anyone fly American lately?  Are they still spacious?

Post from Uncovering Pamela

Kevin Smith

Usually, my first impressions now are of “Ugh” and “What the hell is wrong with you?”  Not conducive for positive self-esteem or self-confidence, I can tell you.

But I’m trying to work on that.

Maybe one day I’ll get to the point where I recognize myself in the mirror and smile, regardless of my weight.

**NOTE:  Shortly after posting this, I was catching up on some blog reading and ran across this most excellent post.  I had to laugh at the coincidence of it all.

Post from Uncovering Pamela

The Enemy

British Schools Ban The Word Obese

It got me thinking about how I feel about the word and brought back horrible nightmares of my own elementary school years.

Obese, fat, overweight.  They all generally mean the same thing, but each word has a very unique connotation to it.  I despise the word obese.  I don’t quite hate it as much as I did before I started Weight Watchers, but the very word made me cringe.  Probably because it hit a little too close to home.  I also dislike the word fat.

And it’s not actually the words themselves that I have a problem with, because a word can’t be negative.  It’s the connotation itself that becomes the issue.  The meaning that people place on the word.  I feel that both of these words have become almost hate words or insults in the current world, when the words themselves were created to merely describe a medical condition.

As I said, this article brought back memories of my own elementary school days.  My gym class was a horror.  My gym teacher herself probably inspired multiple scary movies.  She was so proud of being “on the cutting edge” of physical fitness.  Every so often, we would have to go through these almost military physical examinations.  How much did I weigh, how tall was I, how many push-ups could I do, how many sit-ups could I do, how many pull-ups could I do, etc.  And then she would create these lovely computer printouts of data analyzing all of these test results, including percentiles.  Of course, after I started gaining weight, my test results probably saw a rapid decline.  In fact, maybe it was all of the pressure to excel that made me start gaining weight. There we go!  I’m going to blame my elementary school gym teacher for my weight problems.

The main issue I had with this was that she would hand out these reports to us in class and expect us to take them home to our parents.  I don’t remember actually handing them over to my mom, but being the good girl that I was, I’m sure I did.  In fact, they’re probably still in a box somewhere.  I’d love to find them some day.  But the problem with this was that in a class of 30-some kids, there are multiple sets of prying eyes.  Inevitably, everyone’s results would get out whether you intended for them to or not (which, of course, I didn’t).  So within a matter of hours, the entire grade would know how much you weigh.  I remember one time in particular that someone saw my weight and it became a source of ridicule for several weeks after that.  Okay, it never really let up.  I remember exactly one person standing up for me.

Of course, I have lots of other stories such as this.  Like the time in 5th grade when my nemesis dubbed me ”beach ball.”  Yeah, I went to school with some great kids.  Don’t get me wrong, they weren’t all like that, but the ones who were were so vocal as to overshadow any good school memories I may have had of those years.  Needless to say, I hated elementary school.

To top it off, my school was one of the only schools in the area using the skinfold or caliper test for measuring body fat.  So during this portion of our exam, you had to stand there in front of the entire class while she pulled at your underarm fat or side fat and pinched you with those damn things.  Yes, traumatizing.  The idea is enough to make me shudder 20 years later.

So, that really long story was to say that while I’m okay with the word obese being used as merely a medical description, I don’t think that it should be said to the actual child.  As long as these letters are completely sealed and mailed directly to the parents, I don’t think I’d have a problem with that term being used.  With children of a younger age, I think it is the parents’ responsibility to decide how to handle it without devastating that child’s self-esteem.  In my case, if our exams had been handled a bit more tactfully, and those reports had been sent directly to my parents, I would never have had to face that ridicule from my classmates having known my weight.  Yes, I’d still get made fun of because it was obvious that I was overweight, but they wouldn’t have had that additional factual ammunition to throw at me.

Before I actually publish any post on my website, I usually go back and re-read it to make sure that it make sense.  Of course, many of them still don’t make sense when I’m done, but I still do it.  In re-reading this, the first thought that came to my head was why is this being placed in the hands of schools anyway?  They aren’t medical professionals.  This is a matter for the family and the family’s doctor.  Maybe I just don’t understand, because I don’t have kids, but if I did and a gym teacher ever put my kid through what my gym teacher put me through, that teacher wouldn’t hear the end of it.

Thoughts?  Comments?  Did you have to go through anything like this in your childhood gym class?  Any parents out there to put in their two cents or tell me I’m psycho?

Post from Uncovering Pamela

Word Games

For most of the time that I was overweight, I’ve needed to lose well over 100 pounds.  Because of this, I’ve always had a hard time understanding when people have said that they need to “lose 5 pounds to get into this dress,” or “I need to lose 10 pounds”.  My first reaction (in my mind) was “so?”  I understand now that sometimes those last few pounds are the hardest to get rid of, but until recently I still didn’t understand what difference 5 or 10 pounds could possibly make.  I didn’t understand how only 5 pounds could keep you out of a dress size.  But that’s kind of understandable, because when you are as big as I was, it sometimes takes 20+ pounds to change clothing sizes.  I just couldn’t see how 5 or 10 pounds could make any difference, in a person’s appearance or otherwise.

Until today.

While I’ve been thrilled that I’ve lost the past two weeks and also by the mere fact that I am losing again, I’ve been rather discouraged by the fact that I’ve only lost about 13 pounds since January.  During the same period of time last year, I had lost 40 pounds.  Of course, that isn’t really a fair comparison because I also weighed 80-40 pounds more than I do at the same times this year.  But it has still been discouraging, nonetheless.

I just got home from an appointment with a woman that I haven’t seen since March.  One of the first things she said to me was, “my dear, you’ve been losing weight.”  After thanking her, I explained that I had actually lost quite a bit before she met me (last June) and that in total I’ve lost 158 pounds.  She couldn’t believe it and went on for several minutes about how great it was.  She then proceeded to grill me on how I’ve been doing it, and said that it’s encouraging to see a real person do it, and not some celebrity on TV.  She also said that she can tell a big difference just since the last time she saw me, especially in my face.

As I mentioned, it was in March that I saw her last.  I’ve only lost 10 pounds since March.  Apparently I was wrong, and a 10 pound loss is noticeable once you reach a certain weight.  I’ve learned a lesson today.

Post from Uncovering Pamela

The Power of 10 Pounds

I always imagined that as I lost weight, clothing shopping would become much easier and relatively painless.  It has become much easier in that I can actually buy things in a store and don’t have to shop online anymore.  It has not become painless, however, by any means.

I recently posted briefly about my struggles with the extra skin that has plagued me due to my weight loss.  This extra skin was a certainty due to the amount of time I’ve been overweight (20+ years) and how seriously overweight I was for a great majority of that time.  Sadly this isn’t skin that I think is going to “pop back” to the way it should be (especially since I had trouble with the worst spots before losing any weight), or that any amount of crunches or strength training is going to help.

This extra skin is what has caused shopping for clothing to continue to be a struggle.  Now, I don’t struggle so much to find clothing that all of me will fit into, but clothes that don’t cling to or emphasize the lovely extra skin.  Let me tell you, it’s not easy.  I often take a huge pile of clothing into the dressing room and leave with maybe one item.  While that one item is an improvement on past shopping trips where I left with nothing, I’m sad that so many clothes that would be adorable on me if it weren’t for the extra skin are still out of my reach.

One of my worst trouble spots is my upper arms and it always has been.  In the past, I’ve often had to buy shirts several sizes larger than I really needed simply to fit my arms into them.  It’s not quite such a struggle now, but I still have that problem at times.  Walk into a clothing store now – any clothing store that sells women’s clothing – and find more than two shirts that aren’t either extremely short sleeve, sleeveless, or cap sleeves.  I dare you!  It’s become an absolute nightmare for me.  I refuse to wear any shirts that are above my elbow.  It’s just not an option.  The shirts also can’t be any fabric that is cut oddly or too clingy.  So, as always, I’m extremely limited in my choices.  Bring back winter (long sleeves, crisp cotton shirts, etc.), please?

In response to my post, Carlos asked me if I would ever consider plastic surgery.  My answer is a wholehearted yes.  I dream of the day, long for it.  The sad thing is that I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to afford it unless I break down and take out a loan some day.  Unfortunately I don’t think that will be an option for a great while, if ever.  I know that I would start with my arms and work my way down from there.

I do have to admit that the thought of the surgery terrifies me (any surgery does, really).  They are such extensive procedures that so many things can go wrong, and have gone wrong for others who have undergone them.  I think, though, that as long as I was cleared health-wise, the quality of life improvement would make the risk worthwhile.  For me, at least.  Even though I’ve lost almost 156 pounds, I still find myself hiding from the world because of this issue.

In fact, I never wanted to be tiny or a size two.  I just wanted to be healthy and thin-er.  I honestly believe that if I were to have plastic surgery today to have my extra skin removed, that I would be perfectly happy at the weight that I am at now.  Of course, during the course of this surgery, I would probably lose about 30 pounds and be darn close to my goal weight, anyway. 

Post from Uncovering Pamela

Bring Back Winter, Please?

When I mentioned before that at times I feel like I’ve traded one set of problems for another, this is what I was talking about.  Extra skin.

People often use the fear of extra skin as an excuse not to lose weight.  I myself used it, and now that I have lost a lot of weight, I see what a patently ridiculous excuse it is.  It is simply that.  An excuse.

Don’t get me wrong.  I have a lot of it.  I hate it.  No, I despise it.  It is a constant reminder of how I tortured myself, hurt myself, in the past.  I guess it could be seen as battle scars, but I’ll tell you that I would rather be seen as battle-free.  I hate what I’ve put myself and my body through over the years.

While I do shudder at the mere thought of it, I see that it is simply such a ridiculous excuse because regardless of how much extra skin I may have, the lost weight makes up for it.  All of the other advantages to weight loss make up for it.  And all but the absolute worst of the extra skin can be hidden beneath the right clothes (which I’ll admit can be difficult at times to find).  You know, unless you don’t want to be hidden beneath the right clothes…   Then it can be a problem.

I do have days where I feel like this, but I honestly feel like this most of the time (but not nearly as cute).  And sometimes when I look in the mirror, I feel like this.

I guess it is only fitting that this is posted on Friday, the 13th.

Post from Uncovering Pamela

Extra Skin