Just another day on the Sinwagon

Well, I’ve decided that it’s time to re-shape myself.  For those of you who don’t know, which I don’t is anyone, I’ve started taking Belly Dancing Lessons with Isis.  I love it. I love the dancing, the drums call to me, the music calls to me. I love moving and dancing, it just feels like it’s always been a part of my soul.

Now, despite the fact that I’m a big girl, I’m pretty good at the dancing, and honestly, I love it.  However, the issue that I’m having is simple. My self image is just to the point that I can’t hide it from myself anymore.  I’m too big for my own comfort.  In fact, I’ve always been too big for my own comfort.  I find myself making excuses for my size; my thyroid is bad (which I’ve just started medication for), I had two children in two years (I was fat before I had the kids), I’m big boned (which is true, but there are a lot of healthily sized big boned people out there).  But the biggest for me, no pun intended, is “It runs in my family”.  Which, it does.  However, I don’t want to be part of that family anymore.

I don’t want to be related to them, I don’t want to look like them, I don’t want to sound, or feel or behave like any of them.  I’ve come to terms with that fact that I have an eating disorder.  I can go days and days without barely eating a thing, and when I do…it doesn’t stay down.  It doesn’t stay down, because I’ve got my head wrapped so tightly around the idea that I’m just going to get bigger and bigger that my stomach turns and I’m running for the bathroom to pray to the porcelain goddess.  I remember my mom doing that, eating dinner, a moderate amount, and then disappearing in the bathroom.  I could hear her vomiting, and there was always proof even after the initial flush.  I would knock on the door, worried and ask “Mom, are you all right?” and in a strangled voice, she’d respond..”Yeah, I’m fine.”

I knew what she was doing, though we never talked about it. 

I don’t want this to be a memory for my kids.  Something has to give, I have to change. I have to start thinking about my future, my life, my body, my health, my family.  All of it.  I have to start being conscious of myself.  I know that part of this comes from not thinking that I’m worth the attention to myself, part of it comes from being lazy.

Well, not anymore.  I’m done.  I’m done being fat and unhealthy.  If I’m going to be a big girl, then so be it, but I’m going to be a healthy big girl from now on.  No more binge eating, no more vomiting, no more bad food decisions. And no more “Oh well, this is just the way I am..”.  No more being lonely.  Even in a room full of people (Like at Belly dance class), I can feel alone and the center of attention at all times.  I hate feeling like there’s a spot light on me. I’m so aware of every flat, every lump, every roll, every bit of fat…I’m done. 

I certainly can’t battle myself on this anymore.  My back is hurting, my knees are starting to ache, my shoulder hurts more often…I’m tired, excessively frustrated and I find that I’m fighting these bouts of depression.  I’m going to get healthy again.  I have no notions to be a size 6, but I’m at least going to get to a point to where I feel comfortable in a Belly Dancing outfit.  And considering the fact that I was comfortable with my body, completely, at a size sixteen, I think that a size 12 is a good goal to have.

So it starts today.  I’m currently in a 24 right now, top, bottom, all around. I want to be in a 12, which is half of my own size, by the time I leave for WA next year.  That means I have about 12 months to drop it.  That’s one pant size a month.  I can do this.  I am one of the most stubborn people I know, why can’t I be stubborn about losing this weight? 

I’m going to start looking at life, and food differently.  I’m going to start working on my self image to improve my own self esteem, to learn that I can be a person even if I’m heavy, and still move forward with my life. 

I’m done being angry at myself.

Miss Fayne