I've spoken plenty of times on here about my health, my large body, nonexistent self-image, and desire to get healthy. It's old news and, up until now, indicative of a self-fulfilling prophecy of failure, emotional eating/food addiction, and crappy self-esteem, with my legitimate chemical imbalances thrown in for good measure.
I gained the weight for several reasons. Being on Paxil and Lithium is one culprit. Sitting on my ass in a desk job for the past 12 years didn't help, and I was never a natural athlete to begin with. Well, that's half-false, as I'm sure there's an athlete in me, but thanks to flat feet and knocked knees (which cause gait and posture problems), high-school band, and said crappy self-esteem, I never put myself out there past junior high in any sports. Pity, as I was in great shape back then...145 pounds, 5'7"ish, and thought I was fat. Gotta love the '80s. So I'm saying it's not in my normal daily schedule to walk a mile, lift some weights, or go for a swim. Yet.
During Dad and Mom's darker days, he'd crack wise that she wasn't losing weight as a way of getting back at him somehow. I'm pretty sure that's an issue, however tiny, existing in my psyche as well. I never expected to get married, was settling my brain into the idea of being permanently single, and Les came along with his unconditional love. Being unused to the idea of someone loving you like that, causes you to test said love. Sure, my folks loved me unconditionally too, but in the early days, they sucked ass at showing it. Dad never thought he was deserving of love, and that rubbed off on us kids and instilled those feelings in us. I'm old enough now to get a handle on those thoughts, but it's always a bit of a work in progress. Les and I have been together for 12+ years and it still baffles me that he's stuck around. God, let me get over that nonsense before small ones arrive on the scene...
Anyhoo, I think I've gone prediabetic. That knowledge slams home hard. I'm a chocoholic with a serious sweet tooth...enjoy me some sugar with my chocolate cake and add some fries on the side. Lack of portion control and significant hedonism have caused my diet to spiral out of control for years now. McDonald's and Starbucks became regular go-to spots to assuage cravings (they're close to work...god, I love me a frappucino!). However, I enjoyed a hypoglycemic crash this past weekend, and the symptoms are still presenting themselves. I read too much, and I know my body. It's time to change before I give myself a heart attack or destroy my pancreas. They call it morbidly obese for a reason.
I've put a call into my doctor's office to get fresh lab work done, blood draws for my LDL/HDL levels, triglycerides, etc., and a 3-hour glucose tolerance test. I'm purchasing Bob Greene's Best Life book on Managing Diabetes and Pre-Diabetes, and I'm updating my glucometer this weekend with a new battery, strips, and lancets. I've already started changing my eating habits...managed to keep the calorie count around 1800 yesterday, I'm watching my carbs and educating myself on distinguishing good from bad, and I got in 10 minutes of exercise walking/being dragged by Mom's mutt.
The change is marked: significant energy and this great feeling of doing right by me. Tonight I have laundry planned, which I'll wait for transitioning from washer to dryer by enjoying half an hour of treadmill or stationary bike time, as the micro-fitness center at my complex is right next to the laundry room. My sleep has been disrupted lately by low blood sugar headaches, so I'm not pressing myself to get up at the crack yet to exercise. One thing at a time, gotta stabilize the system first.
I have no desire to grab a quick double cheese or an eggnog latte right now. My desire to change is really strong, and I'm feeling fantastic about feeling better. I pray this strength continues, as my health really does depend on it.