The first thing I did this year was own my body. I own this bitch. Ya hear me body? I OWN yer ass. #keepingitreal

This is, without any doubt, the hardest thing I have written.  The hardest sentence.  The hardest realization.  The hardest set of words to come out of my mouth.  I am shaking.  I am nervous.  I feel sick to my stomach.

I weigh 254 pounds.

Those four words took me a week to write and 43 years to own.  I own that I weigh this.  It is mine and mine only, to own.  I have ex-boyfriends on here and girls who might enjoy this tale too much.  And then posting this to my blog opens it up to the entire planet to read and make fun of me.  Or perhaps recoil in disgust.  It’s terrifying to admit this.  But it is what it is.  And this is, what is.  I can’t change it, not in the moment it takes to write this. 

I would like to say I have no idea how this happened, but I do.  I know exactly, verbatim, how it happened and I was a willing participant in it happening.  I owned the entire process.  I wasn’t present, lord no, I had blinders on.  “It was her fault, their fault, this fault”.  It was MY fault.  And honestly, I don’t wish to blame myself or anyone else for that matter because no one but me owns this fact. 

Here’s what I know to be true.  I sit here today, looking at it entirely different:

1989 – Up to this point I had always been heavy.  The only different was in 1989 was addicted to speed, amphetamines, prescribed by a doctor.  I was thin and an out of control partier.  It was on a drinking binge that I invited the wrong people back to my home and I was raped.  I was out cold when it happened.  As I said, I binge drank and had a body full of diet pills (basically speed).  Was this my fault?  Absolutely not but I had choices in this and I made bad ones leading to it.  So I grabbed control of my life again and I stopped drinking.  I stayed on the diet pills of course, they made me thin.  What I chose to control was food intake, I started starving myself.  The doctor I saw used to write the script and say, “Here’s your happy pills”.  I saw him once a month, I got pills, and I kept getting thinner and thinner.  They didn’t make me happy, they made me thin.   Perhaps that made me happy-ier but I was pretty angry all the time so not sure about that.  By the time we got a hold of my anorexia I was 20 pounds underweight and in an MRI for headaches that wouldn’t go away.  It was then that my real family doctor said, “You’ve lost weight, what did you eat today?”  It was then I admitted to having had a muffin and an apple, the day before at 3pm.  It was 20 hours later.  I had juice only that day.  Over the counter orange juice.  The sugar kept me going.  I was told to eat.  I was thin when I got raped.  I had a boyfriend now.  Perhaps I could stand to eat a little.  It was 1991.  I weighed 115 pounds.  (See below for doctor ordered minimum).

I was always a heavy girl and had I the influence I needed to accept myself as I grew up I never would have played these stupid games.  I would have had a little extra weight sure, but been okay with it.  I wouldn’t be up and down, hiding and depressed eating more.  So many years.

1997 – I weighed 220 pounds and I thought I had never been more miserable in my life.  I was practically engaged to a guy I wasn’t even sure I loved.  I knew he was spending too much “time” with another woman and I thought to myself, something has to change.  I had just left the worst job of my life and landed a decent job at a little boutique successful firm downtown and everyone there seemed to be in shape and into fitness.  They even had a gym in their office.  That was it.  I dumped the boyfriend, I moved apartments and I committed to look like, to fit in and be like, one of the gang at my new company.  I joined Weight Watchers.  Over a year and a bit I lost 60 pounds.  I was down to 160 pounds and the doctor from my anorexia days put my minimum weight at 150 pounds.   I am very muscular, very strong and thick.  At 150 pounds I fit into a size 10-12 and have flat abs, which was my goal on my Weight Watchers membership.  In my head, I would get lower and switch doctors.  My family was pleased I had lost all the weight.  Boys loved me.  Life was great.

I was loving being thin.  To me it changed my ENTIRE world.  It didn’t.  I was just thinner.  I just thought being thinner was happiness.   Had I accepted myself as a teen I would have been happy already.  I would have found happiness within myself and the weight would not have mattered.

2000 – I weighed 150-155 pounds all year up to my birthday.  On my 30^th birthday I was having my appendix removed and had the Strep A virus found in the lining of my stomach.  I had the predecessor to the flesh eating disease.  They jacked me full of drugs to fight the virus and by the time I returned to work and a normal schedule I weighed 130 pounds.  I was buying size 5-6 clothes.  Was I ever happy when the guy I was sleeping with was really turned on by how thin I was?  I was so confident sexually, I was on fire.  Just for the record here, I never EVER had orgasms during the act of sex and only sometimes when other tricks were used.  I guess in all honesty I wasn’t that “confident” after all huh?

In size 5-6 clothes I still didn’t see much to like in the mirror!!!!!  Look at the pictures, don’t I look happy?  Holy happy huh?  I was sleeping around relentlessly and drinking myself into a liver replacement.  I was seeing a therapist and a Career Counsellor.  Does that sound happy this appears in the pictures?  You can see how shallow the smile is.

2004 – I was in love.  Oooops, how did I get to be 170 pounds?  I was in size 12 fitted, 14 baggy.  OH NO!!  Why was I gaining weight?  Because I wasn’t drinking my meals, going out all night, and exercising like a fanatic.  I was in love, he loved me as I was.  I could eat again!!!!  Oh bliss.  I cooked and we went out to dinners, dives and diners.  Bliss. 

Why did I gain weight when in love?  Well likely because I didn’t know unconditional love so it scared me, no one had ever been faithful to me and I only to one man up until now.  How do I do this I thought?  Be thin, get attention and be faithful.  How do I not party my life away?  What if he leaves?  Why couldn’t I look in the mirror and think, hot damn he’s lucky to have him and you he?

2007 – I left work on sick leave.  I was depressed and unhappy.  I was almost always in pain.  Either my mind, or my body.  I had multiple herniations in my spine from all the working out “through the pain”, my shoulder was fried, and I couldn’t put my hand over my head.  I had bursitis, tendinitis and a bone spur in my shoulder from playing softball for a week straight.  Everything hurt.  As the commercial says, “What hurts when depressions strikes? Everything”.  I was put on a drug called Effexor and while I got more energy and started working out again, I never slept.  For a year and a half I stayed awake and what does someone do at 4am when the hunger pains we normally sleep through do?  One eats.  What can’t a stomach do at 4am after 30 years of training, digest food and burn calories?   I gained weight, hand over fist.  My workouts stopped happening as regularly as with little sleep comes anxiety and I would have panic attacks in public.  My wedding was coming.  What to do, what to do?

Weight Watchers here I come. 

Success!!

2009 – I was 195 pounds on my wedding day.  That got me into a size 16 wedding dress.  My stomach was still relatively flat, all of me grows when I gain weight.  I am truly lucky this way as you would never know in my wedding dress I was almost 200 pounds!!!!  But I had dieted myself there.  Before my wedding, 210 or more, I don’t know.  I had thrown out all the scales by now.  And he still married me!!!  What’s wrong with this guy huh?  I look at my wedding pictures today and think, “Oh I looked so lovely”.  At the time of the wedding I thought, “Oh I hate these pictures, so fat”.  Wow, just realized I haven’t even watched my wedding video!

See a pattern yet?  A place where acceptance would have made a day that much more special.  Any day.

Since 2009 I have been on a minimum of 4 medications daily.  And those 4 have changed so many times I cannot begin to tell you.  Side effects on almost all of the ones I am on today, a total of 6, weight gain or loss.  Which one do I get?  Weight gain.  Why?  Because it’s a grand excuse when you find yourself at 254 pounds.  How the fuck did this happen?  I just told you how, see above.  I could use all of the above, being legitimate reasons to have gained weight.  I could tell you that I have a bad right leg that lags in response time to my left because of my back injury being all right sided so I fall, a lot.  Then I hurt, a lot.  So I don’t DO anything.  I could tell you the raging endometriosis (abnormal and excessive cellular growth around the uterus) has caused weight gain, because it can.  I could tell you that being Bi Polar I am subject to very limited impulse control and when you control what you spend and what you do (i.e.: I don’t drink), you impulse with food.  I could tell you I like food, end of story.  I like it and I am a good cook and especially baker.  Who doesn’t like to bake all day and share with the world giving a girl an excuse to eat?  I could tell you that quitting smoking in your 40s sucks ass and leads to an extra 25 pound in a year.  I mean my metabolism stopped on a dime and I started rewarded myself with dessert every night, didn’t I deserve that for quitting smoking?

That’s a girl.  Quit smoking which is so positive and let loose on food.  Being so kind to your body.  Give up one, take up another. 

I am here right now to tell you I OWN this weight gain.  I did it.  No one else.  My mouth took in the food and my body stopped moving.  Doctors or not, saying, “Don’t do this or this with your back” be damned.  I stopped moving.  I did that.  Now I am not saying all this to lay myself out, call myself a fat pig or gross.  I am not saying this may never change or will change.  I am saying I own this.  For once in my life I am not hiding from my weight.  I am a size 18 wearing 254 pound beaut’.  I actually see beauty in the mirror, I do.  I have to force myself to see it but it was a goal in 2013 and I did accomplish it.  NOT enough.  But more than ever before.  Of course if you take my picture and I see the REAL me, it all comes crashing in around me and I am shocked and disgusted.  It’s why there are NO pictures of me, at this weight, but the one I post here. 

I was ready to live with this weight IF……I didn’t hurt so much.  My mind isn’t where it could be and with Bi Polar I need to be confident, in control of my impulses.  My body is far gone.  I fall down because my right leg which is weak and injured (tested as such) can’t hold up 254 pounds.  When I go to put that leg down and it isn’t on perfectly flat solid ground when I do, I will fall.  The back pain I experience every single solitary day is excruciating and I am doing nothing to earn it.  It’s not like I exercise through the pain these days, I sit on my ass through the pain!  I have learned kindness and to be mindful of the injury, to not lift heavy things and still, agony each night.  Perhaps because the heavy thing I am lifting IS ME?  I go to bed in pain, I sleep in pain, and I wake up in pain.  And the bed, the Temperpedic that cost $6,000 causes my brain pain.  I should get a healthy breakfast in bed for that price. 

Just a couple of days ago my husband said to me when I was experiencing really bad PMS cramps (edometriosis gift) and back pain, “You know, *pause takes deep breath*  we know, a lot of this, these health issues, are *pause* weight related sweetheart”.  Even though I had said those words before, probably in the same damn week, it didn’t matter because when he did…..fuck.  My interpretive dance went as follows:

He hates me. 

He hates how I look. 

He doesn’t love me. 

He thinks I am fat and disgusting. 

He is going to leave me. 

They all leave me.

I will be forever alone. 

I hate him. 

Son of a bitch, fuck him. 

When he goes I will lose a 100 pounds like last time and be a happy drunk whore again!  WHOOO WHOO!

I shut down, entirely for 3 days.  Nothing but “Yes, No’s, and Thank you, No Thank you’s”.   

WAIT!  Hmmmm maybe that was his master plan to shut me up for a bit?

I think I was mad because I had already accepted this heaviness and was going to TRY to get healthier.  I had already been, in my mind, ready to commit to doing something about my weight, I was just putting it off out of fear of hearing…..”254 pounds” when I inevitably got weighed in at Weight Watchers or by a trainer etc.  I had already signed up at a gym, and I was determined to go to get fit.  Not lose weight, get fit.  Losing weight just happens to come with exercise.  One makes you feel good, the other “feeds off” (no pun intended) it.  When you exercise and release those endorphins you tend to lose weight because you feel good therefore you eat better.  I was ready so why the fuck was he telling me this?

FYI – hadn’t told him I registered at the gym.  I was expecting mind reading.  Don’t worry about him!  A good round in the sack and a fine cooked favorite meal and it’s all forgotten.  He is a man after all.  All is forgiven on both sides. 

In summation, I own why he said it.  I know I had begun *schootching* off couches.  Pushing forward a bit, then standing.  I used to just jump up.  I used to jump out of bed in the am, now I was lying there far too long and rolling out.  I used to put my right leg down and it would take the weight.  It was shaky sure, but it took it.  I used to be made of muscle.  Not ripped, but a hard body.  Even at my previous weights I always had a relatively somewhat flat stomach.  No more. 

I am writing this because it’s been a huge realization and I want other women to either accept themselves as is and be healthy OR, get your head out of the sand and accept yourself as is and be healthy.  No more not admitting who and what we are.  No more hiding.  Here I am, take all of me or none of me.  If you take all of me you may want to put on a back brace to lift me up.  My husband takes all of me.  He’s just tired of my being at doctors all the time and my popping pain pills like candy.  He hates to see me suffer. 

I am on no diet.  I will not restrict.  I will eat what I want but will do so being mindful of it.  I will enjoy every bite instead of letting it go in without a thought.  I will work out in some form every day, back or no back pain.  Even if it’s yoga, or a walk.  254 pounds might stay but it’s going to contain a lot more muscle weight in due time.  I will get my legs back, my old dancer legs.  And I will lose any “swing” under my arm.  I may not lose any cellulite but it’s gonna be hard underneath it damn it.  Why can I say all this with confidence?  Because I own being 254 pounds.  This is who I am.   I am no thin girl trapped in a fat girl body.  I am a chunky monkey who has let herself go physically and that’s not cool man.

FUCK.

P.S.  Because this is all about TMI and random disclosures I should tell you I also have orgasms now because I own being this girl in the sack now.  I might be bigger but I am alllll about acceptance AND the finish line ladies!   It's amazing how sex changes when you know your partner loves you as you are and at the very least you say "fuck it" about yourself and let go of any reservations.  Doing it with "no strings attached" as they say.  Unless your into that sort of thing of course, handcuff away.

The pictures below represent my life in weight.  Each change makes me shake my head in the lack of self awareness and acceptance I had for myself.  How unkind I was being to myself.  NO MORE I TELL YOU, NO MORE. 

I apologize in advance for the horrible clarity of the pictures, it's more about shapes and size anyways.  I took pictures of pictures because the "awesome" scanner by husband bought 15 months ago remains in the box as I type this.

 

 
As you can tell from both these pictures, there's nothing little about me, not since birth.  NO I am not saying any derogatory inflammatory comments about myself.  I am simply saying, I have ALWAYS been a bigger girl when well, not starving.  This is a chunky monkey body and from the hands covering my front in the lower of the two I have a clear memory of thinking my hair cut sucked and my hands might cover my stomach.  I was maybe 10.  Look at those beautiful rosy cheeks.

 

 

As you can see, I've always had short hair, then long hair, short hair then long hair and all over a 12 month period.  I AM cousin IT when it comes to hair.  My greatest asset next to my sparkly personality.   Again, I am not small or thin.  Please note the picture below where apparently it was warm enough for my friend to go in her bathing suit and I, a long sleeved shirt.  We were maybe 14.  No idea why it appears she is more pissed than me about the picture.  LOL

Tom Cruise had nothing on this girl.  

 
This picture below represents about Grade 10 I would guess.  Out of the attempt to be a rocker above and into my preppy stage with the classic one sided hair cut.  You will note a thinner me.  My parents had separated and I was living alone with a Mom who had fallen apart at the separation.  My coping mechanism was food control.

 

Grew the hair out, still relatively thin though.  Was taken within the same 12 month period.

 
The next two photos I am living with my father now so about 16 or so and gaining weight again as I have accepted my parents living situation.  I am 100% confident that I was fat in these pictures because I remember this bathing suit and the struggle to be seen in it only ever covered up or lying face down.  I got TWO dates to movies on this trip.  I sure musta been ugly like I thought right?

 
I wish the pictures were clearer but this is HARDLY fat.

Oh, it's a year later, same hair, chubbier face.  I am 17 now.  Letting myself go for sure.  I remember this trip to Mexico like it was yesterday.  Got a boy or two on this trip too.  But still, saw nothing but fat.  I remember being so jealous of my friends on this trip in their bikinis.  Couldn't find one picture of myself in a swimsuit.  Now mind you I ended up in bed most of the trip with tonsillitis! LOL  Can you say "TEQUILA???" (ruins the immune system if you drink it by the bottle). 

 

 
White Water Stoner...I mean Rafting trip.  18-19 years old.  Same girl, longer hair.  No acceptance.  Being hit on by a guy that's supposed to be in love with my friend and she him.  I have so little self esteem I go thru with it and flirt back.  My life was full of shame.....what comes next?

The girl above is 19.  This was just before she got raped.  She is loving her diet pills and alcohol.  Double Fisted was I!  It's just a little obvious I no longer eat.  Go ahead, compare, talk amongst yourselves for a moment.  I can wait, take your time.   She's frighteningly pale isn't she?  She only weighs about 115 pounds.  (Remember doctor's orders of 150?)

 
This was probably 21-22.  Still on the diet pills, only just started drinking again.  Hungover to shit in this picture in California.  Look at my arms and legs.  The big shirt was because I was fat in my head....even though underneath the top is a size Medium bikini.

 
This is about 24 I would guess.  (I had trauma in my life, my memories are not very clear).  I have a full time boyfriend, someone who I was sure loved me more than I him.  This was after the love of my life cheated on me. I met someone new, and I wasn't even sure I loved him.  I needed safety, I needed to be in charge this time.  No chances of a broken heart.  And playing is safe and being shut off let me eat.  I no longer had to control anything because I truly didn't care that much anymore.  The hurt was there, I squashed it now WITH food.  This is still only maybe 160 pounds.  But from 125 call it to this is 40 pounds of weight gain.  Doesn't do a body or mind good.

 
Now this one is about 25-27.  I am huge in my mind.  HUGE.  I am up another 20 pounds.  I am looking like I am going to kill the person taking the picture and the girl in the picture.  How dare you take a picture of me looking like this!  How dare I look like this!  Look how beautiful I am still.  Rosy cheeks, still got em.  And that apartment, it was gorgeous and all mine.  I worked hard for it.  Oh I broke up with the guy I wasn't sure I loved by the way so this is after I had lost a few pounds from my tipping point.  Still fat though no?

 

 

I cannot believe I thought this was grossly huge.  I look great and people still tell me how well I filled out the BUUUUUDWEISER bathing suit.  In fact a kid probably 15 years younger than me almost always brings it up.  And to me?  I found this picture under another one in the photo album.  I had hidden it from view I hated it so much.  I have hip bones for god sakes!  I probably weigh about 170-180 tops. 

 

 
Same trip, I am not using the bull as anything other than a fat hiding prop.  Look at those muscular legs for Christ sakes.

 
There's a bikini top under there which means I am relatively flat in the tummy.  And those legs, all muscle from the gym.  I hated myself hence the baggy shorts and tee.  Both maybe a size Large max.   Even at 180 pounds I fit into 12-14 and if working out, flat tummy and great legs.  What's wrong with this girl?  NOTHING.

30 years young.  Yep, again, take a moment, look up one picture and down to the other.  Take your time, compare.  Feeling dejavu ish?  I am wearing my brothers jeans from when he was 17 years old!  The tank top, a small likely is tucked in.  I remember seeing these pictures and while I thought I looked good.  I mean this weight was back to the anorexia days (Act Two of a Girls' Battle with her Self Esteem....and....lights, camera, action!!!!)  I still looked for faults when I got these pictures.  I remember distinctly thinking my arms weren't defined enough for a tank top. I spent the day so self conscious of being tucked into my pants that I was constantly playing with my waistline, the belt, the tucked in tank, all of it.  Got laid at least 4 times on a 7 day trip.  That a girl.  Way to accomplish things.

 
This is 120 pounds, 30-31 years old.  My pants and tops are medium and baggy.  I've had my appendix removed and been through the flesh eating disease and am dating the biggest ass on the planet.  The biggest ass TO ME and I to him.  He wasn't a bag guy we just didn't do well together at all.  I spent this entire trip wishing for attention from him via the phone and email and getting none.  And being hit on by everything that walked and not caring.  My girlfriend and I sat on our balcony one day sunning in bikinis and we each drank 12 beers.  That was my breakfast and lunch before the wedding we attended.  Even then, in Florida, I wore nylons to the wedding with control top to "hold it all in".  Hold in what?   My hip bones?

 
The bad boy and I broke up. I started to fill in again a bit. I was single on this trip and I remember feeling good but not really being "present" in that.  Pushing it past like it didn't matter.   The picture below is the following year and I am back in love with the man I married.  I have gained maybe 10 pounds and I remember thinking that from the previous years event (above) by comparison I AM HUGE. God how I wished I was the size I was the year before.  Damn it!  Can't you see in the fuzzy image how fat I look with my shirt tucked in!??  Are you blind?

 
2004-2005 - 34 maybe 35 and 160 pounds. (above)

2009 - 39 years old - 190 pounds. (below) 
 
If only on my wedding day I could have been 160 pounds.  Damn it.  Man I would have rocked a strapless dress then versus the v neck fluttering sleeve.  It's a darn good thing my wedding was PERFECTION or I would have really loathed how I looked.  Can you see how I ruin myself, my own days in life, my own stuff.  When I was 160 I was fat.  When I was 120 I found fault.  This is a horrible cycle to live in.  To be in.  I will exit stage left thank you very much.

 
And finally, below, this was XMas day 2013. 

My tanktop under the cross sweater has perked up ma' boobies very nicely and hubby wanted all over that shit.  I appreciated how I looked somewhat in the mirror then his reaction, excellent, we did okay girl.  I had tried on 3 outfits and gave up because I knew if I kept going the day would be lost to sorrow and pain.  So I stuck with this outfit and walked out to a "Hey you look great, can I jump on into that top please?"  LOL....and then.....he took the picture.

A friend challenged us to post them online.  UGH!  Can't do it.  Look at me I am a cow I thought.  No way I thought.  Are you nuts?

But I did it, I posted it.  And now I am here posting to the world.

And guess what I got when I posted it, I got compliments from people who never knew I was once more beautiful and thin.  They thought me beautiful as was.  What?  What's wrong with you?  Are you blind people, I mean really?  I pretty much pondered this picture over and over all day on Christmas Day. 

Perhaps some of you noted on Facebook that I drank an entire bottle of champagne that day and barely ate.  Old habits die hard.  That was only the second time having a drink in two years, maybe more.  Bi Polar and booze is a stupid mix.  It can go okay but why take the chance or counter the positive effect of your meds.  Well, I will tell you why.  Cause you are fat gurl, drink up! 

That was then, this is now.....

 

Now after some self realization all outlined above I am here to proudly say, "I own this body of mine.  This is me, ALL of me.  And yes dear, climb on in, it's hot in here baby".  But let me go work out first as I want to be stronger, more in control of my body and strength.  Then we can focus on your needs dear.  Me first.  I need to Be Kind to Myself first. 

 

So how about you?  Do you OWN YOUR BODY?  What can you do to own your body while being kinder to yourself as well?  I love when you share shit.