Right now, I am the heaviest I have EVER been. I’ve never been thin. I would poke out an eye to be the size 9 that I was in high school right now, but by high school standards I wasn’t even in the realm of skinny.
I don’t think I gained much weight in my Freshman year of college because I had to walk everywhere. When I moved off campus in Junior year though, ouch, that is a different story. I lived 2 minutes away from a Burger King during the magical time period of The Rodeo Cheeseburger. Mmmmm …. The thought of those things still makes me drool.
They also made my ass expand greatly. Dude- they were a dollar. I ate A LOT of them. And then bought new pants.
While I was pregnant with Grace I lost a ton of weight. I was so careful about everything I put in my body. The last 2-3 months I hardly ate carbs because I knew they would make my blood sugar spike and I was already having a hard enough time keeping still with sky high basal rates on my insulin pump.
The day after I went home from the hospital I put on my pre-pregnancy jeans. They fit. They were big. Hanging off of me big.
Then I stopped eating for about 2 weeks. Not on purpose. I would drink orange juice and force down some crackers, but it was always forced. When I finally realized that not eating wasn't good for my milk supply and therefore not good for Gracie, I started to make myself eat meals again.
Chef Boyardee ravioli. That was the only thing I could think of that sounded good, so that’s what Matt bought me. I ate A LOT of it. And started wearing my maternity pants again.
19 months later, I am 45 pounds heavier than the post-birth low.
Something has to give. Something is going to give. I am on a diet.
So once again, dieting sucks.
I am comfortable enough with my insulin pump these days to make changes whenever I need it so I don’t get low. That is no longer my problem. No longer the excuse I have, the one I've ALWAYS used, for not following though on this.
Now, it is all in my head.
Before writing this post, I just spent 15 minutes planning everything I was going to eat for the day. Despite my larger than normal breakfast this morning, I am starving right now. It is the head game of ignoring the stomach grumbles for the next 2.5 hours until lunch.
I've done well so far this week, but I am only 10 days into this and am already dreaming of pizza.
I will be successful though. I will win. I have to win.
I have to.