The How To Guide for Destroying Yourself, Your Relationships, and Your Faith

A lot of things have been happening in my life of late but that just seems to be the norm in our household. We seem to reach a point of stability and then all hell breaks loose and we are left wondering what just hit us. I won't go into much detail, as that would be long and tedious for all involved, but I have had to repeat this little mantra of mine many times over the last month or so:

"I have Luke and I have Jesus, everything will be ok."

Now before everyone goes all theological on my ass, let me assert a couple of points.

1) if I did not have Luke I would still be ok. Distraught, but ok, because fundamentally it is Jesus who makes it all ok for me, but Luke is a nice bonus.

2) I am not saying "everything will be ok" like tomorrow will be sunny and full of fluffy bunnies, or that somehow holding on to Jesus makes my life stress free. But in the long run, even if something kills me, I believe that it will all be ok. Big picture stuff.

So back to my mantra. It keeps me sane knowing that I have a Saviour who loves me and a husband who adores me. It makes even hard things easier to deal with when I know that I have two amazing people to cry to and lean on. Doesn't make it fun though. Still sucks going through some stuff, especially when you see it hurting your partner.

Which is how I get to the title of my post:

The How To Guide for Destroying Yourself, Your Relationships, and Your Faith.

Oh yeah, I am a ray of sunshine today. Bear with me though, I do have a point aside from nihilistic wallowing.

I am a huge believer in confessing deep dark secrets in order to turn the light on them and sort them out. I have done it many times for many reasons and the response I usually receive is humbling, honest, supportive and loving. By being honest I have often given implicit permission to others to be honest also.

This is me being honest - gut churningly honest, this is not easy for me to admit to.

Most of you will know by now my issues with food. I can't hide my issues like some people do, I literally wear them. I have a fat suit that I have to wear everyday, look at everyday, deal with everyday. I have to acknowledge my limitations when I can't go as far or fast as others. I feel the pain in my joints when I walk. I find it hard to roll over in bed and have to wear a mask to breathe when I sleep.

I hate my issues. I hate that I have done this to myself.

But it doesn't stop me....and this is where my story starts.

I emotionally eat, so after the last few weeks I have been weaker in the self-control department. One morning I was talking to Luke about getting myself a coffee on the way to work. "Just a coffee" he said (because he knew where my head was at, not because he is a controlling deuche bag). "Of course babe, I wouldn't buy more." I said this BELIEVING that I wouldn't, DETERMINED I wouldn't.

1 hour later I was feeling sick from a binge on energy drinks and sweet treats. I felt guilty, ashamed, humiliated, angry....I hated myself then.

Then I went into bargaining mode with myself:

"It doesn't matter, know one will know"

"What about Luke?"

"He doesn't need to know, it will only upset him."

"But it's Luke, I tell him everything."

"He will be so angry [which he wouldn't] and would hate you [which he didn't] so don't tell him."

"But I feel like I am lying to him."

"It's only lying if he asks."

"What if he asks?"

Then I went into bargaining mode with Jesus:

"Look, I know I was stupid but please make it so that Luke doesn't ask because it would hurt him and hurt our relationship and you don't wanna do that to us do you?"

"I love you"

"Yeah yeah but could you just do this for me."

"Still love you"

I stressed about it all day. Worrying about Luke asking and catastrophizing it in my head. On the way home I kept praying that he wouldn't ask, don't make me admit to this to him.

(NOTE: as weight has been an issue for me and hiding food and binge eating have been real issues, hiding this from Luke is a problem. Not a little problem as some may think it is, but a real problem. You need to know the history to get it).

Luke asked.

He had to ask three times before I told him the extent of it.

The hurt in his eyes that I lied, the pain for me, and disappointment for all the work I had undone...all of these things crushed me. And I realised in that moment that you don't have to cheat or steal or physically hurt someone to ruin a relationship.

You just need to put something above your love for the other and your love for God.

It could be anything. For me it is food. It is an idol. I ruin my health, my relationships, my relationship with God over it. I would rather kill what has been given to me than to give up food. 

We all have that something that we love that is really destroying us. 

It might be something as obvious as drugs, alcohol, or cheating.

Or food.

Or maybe it is something more secretive like self-harming, picking at our skin, watching porn (or Geordie Shore *shudder*), reading romance novels at the expense of our marriages....I don't know but you do.

You, reading this, right now, have something that you know you can't control, don't want to control. It may even be your desire to control everything that is out of control!!!

Let me tell you this now:

It doesn't matter how trivial it may seem to the world.

It doesn't matter whether anyone else knows about it.

What matters is that it is controlling you.

It is causing you to hide it, lie about it, indulge in it, and it is destroying you.

Because you are not free until you give this up. You will never be free until it is gone. And when it is, when you don't have to hide anymore, your relationships and your faith will grow exponentially.

What would your life be like with this thing out of it?

What would it take to make that happen?

And are you prepared to do it?

Dear Jesus, please make me skinny!

Hysterical breakdowns are not an unknown phenomenon in our household. I live with four boys and at least once a month one of us five has a meltdown.

10 points for guessing who it is.

That's right, it's Luke.

Jokes, it's totally the one with the ovaries.

Despite the fact that I totally hate fulfilling a stereotype, I can't help it! The emotions, and tears, and snot, and sobbing just won't stay down, no matter how hard I try and suppress them. It's sooo embarrassing (especially if it ever happens at work....holla at me emotional ladies!) but it happens and I can't stop it. 

This month, despite trying desperately to channel the stoneheartedness of my testosterone fueled flatmates, I ended up crying like a wee baby about (yet again) my weight issues.

I have come to learn that I don't like being fat (shocker!). Like, I really really really don't like it. I don't like the stares I get in the street ( no jokes, I saw a guy driving do a HUGE double take once and, unless I am the sexiest thing going, the only conclusion I can come to is that he had in fact never seen a fat person before). I don't like people at work giving me tips on how to lose weight. I don't like having to avoid foods I like. I don't like not being able to fit some clothes.

So I decided to quit. 

I told Luke that I was over it and I was gonna eat what I want and get fat and die happy. And he found this hilarious. Apparently it was not the right day for him to laugh at that because I got rather pissed off and then cried lots.

See, as much as I want to be skinny, I sabotage myself all the time. In my concious mind I am working hard at losing weight. In my subconcious mind I am a scared little girl who is trying to protect herself from the world by creating a fat suit. 

As much as I want to be skinny, I more afraid of it than anything. 

I am afraid that when I get there I still won't be happy with what I have. I am afraid that I will get hurt by men again. I am afraid that I won't be able to maintain it. I am scared that I still won't be good enough.

Which is the fundamental problem.

It is not about the weight. Yes, I do need to loose it in order to be healthy. But focusing on the weight has meant that I have forgotten about the reasons I got fat in the first place. 

I have started idolising being skinny. I started to think that when I use to be skinny I was happy and will be again if I could just get skinny again. The truth is that it is bollocks. If I am not happy in myself now then I won't be when I lose weight. And I wasn't happy when I was skinny...which is why I ended up fat.

So I am trying to change my mindset from focusing on losing weight to one that is focused on being healthy and happy. This still means I have to avoid foods that aren't good for me, and I still have to exercise and all that, because that is part of being healthy in body and mind, but the outlook is totally different.

Still, as I write this, I am overcome by a sense of desperation and yet resignation. I am really struggling to understand how to keep going in the face of weight that is getting harder and harder to shift. The thought of this being a lifelong struggle fills me full of helplessness. 

I hate that I have done this to myself. I hate that I now have to battle everyday of my life in order to live well. It makes me angry and dejected. I say I don't care anymore but the fact is I really really do. It hurts a lot knowing that this is my fault.

I feel like I have tried every diet in the book and still have so far to go. Luke described it as running a marathon, where you get half way through and wanna die on the spot but you keep going coz there is no other way to finish. There is also a billboard on the way to my work that says "The pain of doing it is not as bad as the pain of regretting not doing it." Funnily enough it is a billboard for a gym!

It is hard trying to put into words what it is like staring your own regret in the mirror every morning to people who may have never had weight issues. It is hard to explain how it isn't a just physical battle, it is a mental and emotional one as well. It is hard to tell people who say "just count calories in and calories out and you should loose weight" that it isn't that simple. 

I find blogging helpful. I hope it reaches people who. like me, want to lose weight and yet want to give up at the same time. I hope this reaches those who are so confused as to what they really want that they sabotage themselves and then hate themselves for it. I hope this reaches people who are losing hope.

Because at the end of the day, underneath all the pain and heartache, I do have hope. I have hope that it isn't always going to be like this. My faith in Christ tells me that one day every tear will wiped away and all pain will end. I believe that my pain about weight counts. And so I have hope.

For those of a different faith, or of no faith, please don't give up just yet. Please comment below and let me know so I can support you and in turn feel supported. Your battle with weight is no small thing and I understand the pain that it causes you and how little you feel understood.

We are not alone. even though our fat suits attempt to lie to us and tell us we are.

Just keep breathing, keep living, keep listening to the people who love you, and let's find a way to live a life that we dream of!

Christine goes Carb Free

I have talked on this blog before about my problems with weight and weight loss (see here, here, here, and here for just some of my blogs on this). I am a big girl and have been for a decade now. I put on weight for a number of reasons and have tried to loss weight for just as many reasons. 

6 months ago I decided to try a different tack. Instead of combating the bulge by itself I decided to think like an addict. As an alcoholic I learned that moderation with alcohol doesn't work. As an addict to food I needed to work out what I needed to stay away from instead of looking at the end result. 

Sugar and carbs are basically my enemy. Refined carbs and sugar are more addictive than heroine and just as bad for my health. I am not capable of only eating a little bit, I am an addict. 

As such, I cut them both out of my diet completely.

The first week of that was absolute hell.

My diet was suddenly so boring! I was having bacon and eggs for breakfast, chicken for lunch, and eggs and meat for dinner. And that was it. Every day. After a week I was able to put a few veges back into my diet but even now my diet is very limited compared to what it was.

I haven't seen much of a weight difference but I have noticed a lot of changes. I feel clearer in my head, and I feel healthier in my body. I have also noticed that I don't eat as much. When you are eating only meat you end up getting sick of eating before you get full. No more eating til bursting or feeling sick and bloated.

I feel a lot more natural in what I eat and a lot better for it. I haven't lost dramatic amounts of weight but I haven't put any on either and it is coming off, albeit slowly.

6 months down with only a couple of slip ups and I am feeling much better than when I have tried to moderate food alone.

It is hard though, especially because I love to feed people when they come to my house. I love to cook brownie and have people enjoy it. I also love to go out and eat at restaurants etc with friends.

This has been a little bit of a challenge but the majority of people I know have been so good and accommodating. My friends now tend to bring a diet drink with them when they come round so I can enjoy something too. We also now go to restaurants that have no carb options, like Nando's chicken.

I do still have moments of feeling left out though. I find it hard especially around ice cream. I love me some ice cream. And when everyone is around enjoying a yummy dessert I find it difficult. But the hardest times are when I am alone and emotionally vulnerable. It is then that I really struggle and long to go and buy a big block of chocolate or a big tub of ice cream and pig out. So far I have resisted and it is getting easier.

It has been a learning curve for me. I have chosen to view sugar as an addiction that is like alcohol, something that I must avoid in order to live well. That means that this is not a diet for a time but a lifestyle change. Viewing sugar this way has made it easier to live with but it has put me face to face with some of my demons and fears around weight. 

So if you are struggling with weight maybe it is time to stop acting as if diets are the ambulance at the bottom of the cliff and instead start acting on the addictions that keep you in your destructive life styles. It is helping me, in ways I never thought it would.

Run Fat Girl, Run!!!!

The other day I had a crisis.

I wanted to go for one of my mega walks but when I went through the clean washing disaster struck.

My sports bra had broken.

Now if you are a woman like me and perhaps weigh a few big macs more than a happy meal, not having a sports bra when exercising is a problem of monumental size (no pun intended!!). I need a sports bra! I MUST HAVE A SPORTS BRA!

So I went shopping (thank you hubby's plastic card) and I was faced with a dilemma that strikes me every time I look for sports gear:

The world does not want big women to exercise.

Oh believe me, the world TELLS big women to exercise. Read any magazine, health website, or watch TV and very soon you will realise that being big is THE sin of today. You want to lose weight, you MUST lose weight, or you will die in your sleep TONIGHT!!!

If the bombardment of messages finally seeps through our fat layers to our simple minded brains (not me saying this, just the impression I get from the ads) then the first thing you MUST do is buy the equipment, work out gear and shoes.

Equipment: check. Shoes: check. Gear:…..

WHERE THE FLIPPIN' DO I BUY GEAR!!???

Sports clothes come in sizes that may cover my forearm and nothing else. If I am to look at sports clothes and deduce anything it is that skinny people love to exercise, while big people don't go near the stuff.

Which may be true, I mean it wasn't through doing exercise that we put on the weight.

But if you are like me and you are sick of being big, then you need the clothes that won't fall apart as you walk down the road. You need support in all the normal places, plus probably a couple more. You need something that will stop chaffing, will allow air flow, and won't show the sweat patches that arrive as soon as you stand up from the couch (oh yeah, I am sexy).

But when you go shopping, you can find none…of….these.

Bike shorts? Forget it. Good tops? No can do. Sports bra? Only if you are the size of a skinny teenager.

Even if you want to buy scales to keep track of your weight, most of the at home ones only go up to 120kg. Now this is a lot but I weigh more and these scales do NOT like being pushed beyond their limits. I should know, I broke my mothers.

So what is one to do? Believe the ads that tell you to move that lazy ass, or to believe the shops that tell you that you don't really want to do anything more than walking around the said shop and then going home for a lie down.

Luckily I eventually found what I was looking for (at 3x the price of the smaller sizes) (if you need to know where I went message me and I will let you know) but the mixed signals and the frustration of feeling like the world wants something for you but won't support you in it was almost enough to put me off.

This new bra better last forever, that's all I am saying.

A Long Walk To Wedgies

I am starting training for my walk from one end of the country to the other for charity (see here and here for more info). This training involves going for a 2 hour walk as many times as I can a week. Hopefully I will get up to once a day. At the moment it is once every other day.

And here is why:

This is the conversation my body and I have every morning before, during, and after my 8km walk. Enjoy.

ME: Alarm has gone off, time to get up.

BODY: I don't wanna

ME: Come on, you know you will feel great if you get up for a walk.

BODY: Nope. I hate you.

ME: Ok, seriously, you can't do this to me every morning! We need to get up!

BODY: You suck. You go for a walk but I am staying in this nice comfy bed.

ME: I am giving you to the count of three to get your lazy ass out of bed.

BODY: *blows raspberry*

ME: 1……

BODY: Can't make me

ME: 2……

BODY: But you love your bed!

ME: 3…….

BODY: HA! didn't work!

ME: GET OUT OF BED!

BODY: Geez, ok, you don't have to yell or anything.

ME: *putting on shoes*

FEET: What? What is this? I was sleeping? Wait…..I know these shoes…..DEAR GOD NO! Run feet, run, get away before she puts those mmmnnnfffdmmmmdmd the rest is muffled by shoe)

Me: *start walking*

LEGS: What? Wasgoingon? I didn't sign up for this! The sun isn't even up properly!

ME: Come on guys, just a little bit faster.

LEGS: I HATE YOU! HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO ME!

ME: It's not for long.

LEGS: LIAR!!!!! We already hurt! Take us home NOW!

ME: *getting into the rhythm of walking*

BUTT: Hold the phone, who woke us up?

LEGS: It's the b***h we are attached to. She feels the need to abuse us again.

BUTT: But I am her favourite! She never makes me do anything! She just puts me on a comfy seat and that is me set for the day.

LEGS: Well aren't you lucky, she hates us, but not as much as feet.

FEET: mmmmmmmnnnnfffddmmmdddffff

BUTT: Shut up feet, we are hurting up here.

ME: *starts puffing*

LUNGS: Can…'t…..bre….athe…..

ARMS: Oh look, another nice day to be swung about.

BUTT, LEGS: SHUT UP ARMS!

FEET: mmmsshshsmmmttt

BRAIN: ok guys, ok, I got this, I will have a chat to her and sort out this obvious mix up.

BRAIN: Hi honey, whacha doing?

ME: Walking, getting fit.

BRAIN: Why you wanna do that for?

ME: Good for me.

BRAIN: Ok, I get it, you feel the need to better yourself. Hey, I am all for that, do it all the time. But you see, the rest of the body is in revolt.

ME: Suck it up, pain is good.

BRAIN: Now you and I both know that that is a lie. So how bout we just make it a short one this morning? You still went for a walk, you still feel good. But the rest of body feels good too. Whaddya say?

ME: No.

BRAIN: Ok, ok, I hear ya. How bout, you take the next turn back home, avoid the big hill, just walk the flat bit and take it easy? I am all for this pushing yourself thing, but Legs, they just don't get it.

ME: Must…keep….going

BRAIN: Well this is just silliness. There is the turn, come on, take it now, it's passing Christine, you going past it.

ME: Have to do the whole thing.

BRAIN: Ok, no worries, there is a short cut coming up and….

ME: NO.

BRAIN: It's no good guys, she won't budge.

LEGS, BUTT, ABS: WHAT??

FEET: wffffaaammmmm

BRAIN: OH, hello Abs, when did you wake up?

ABS: About 5 mins ago, really starting to ache, what is she thinking?

BRAIN: Well, apparently she feels the need to get fit. Apparently we aren't good enough the way we are anymore.

BUTT: Bloody hell.

LEGS: We have to convince her to stop!

FEET: mmmmnnnfnffffgggnnmm

ABS: What? What did Feet say?

BRAIN: I believe they were saying to give her hell.

LEGS: Challenge accepted.

ME: Oh God, I hurt so much. I can't go on!

BRAIN: I told you. I told you this would happen.

ME: I think I have blisters all over my feet.

BRAIN: Yes well, Feet won't really be pleased with that. 

ME: I don't know if I can keep going.

BRAIN: So stop. Look, there is a nice wall. Have a sit down and call hubby on your phone and get him to pick you up.

ME: No…I can do this.

BRAIN: Seriously? Can you feel your body right now?

ME: I can do this!

ME: Woop woop! I did it!! I got home!!

BODY: *collapses*

BRAIN: *Switches off*

ME: *lying on floor half dead*

Temptation and Weakness (or Reverting Back to my 16 year old Self)

Something happened to me last night. It hasn't happened for a long time. It happened in front of a couple of friends. It shocked and worried my husband. It left me broken and disgusted with myself, and embarrassed that I had sunk so low so fast.

What could possibly have happened I hear you ask?

I binged.

I gorged, overate, over-indulged, ate myself sick.

I at pizza and a really yummy dessert and I went totally overboard. And then, after I had gone to bed, I lay there thinking about the left overs in the fridge. So in the morning, for breakfast, I did it again.

I haven't done this is so long that is scared my husband. He was immediately asking me what was wrong, why I was doing this to myself. I ate my concoction of chocolate chips, cream, and flake chocolate and told him that nothing was wrong. I then I felt sick. And my first thought was to purge, something I haven't done in many many years. 

And then I started to think that maybe hubby was seeing something I wasn't, that maybe something was really wrong and I was missing it. 

Food is a drug to me. It has been for as long as I can remember. I have learned to control it somewhat. I no longer binge like I use to (save the last 24 hours) and I eat to maintain my body rather than to find solace or comfort. And so when something like this happens it is like an alcoholic picking up a glass of beer and sculling it. It means that something is very wrong and I really need to start analysing my behaviour.

In the past an episode like that would have spun me out of control. 24 hours would have moved into a week or a month or eating badly and too much. My shame and disgust with myself would feed my addiction and I would have turned to food to cover what my eating had caused. I would have used it as an excuse to continue eating without thought for my health.

This time I did something radically different.

I sat with hubby and talked it out. We discovered that I have been feeling exhausted and stressed. We have moved house this week also and so all our good routines went out the window the last 7 days. We also have taken in a teenager and that change in life has meant many other things have taken a back seat. All of these issues subconsciously triggered a binge of epic proportions that could have undone all my good work in losing weight if I had listened to those around me, namely my husband, telling me I was acting abnormally.

So instead of eating more, or mentally beating myself up, or 101 other destructive things I could have done, I went and had a sleep, then cleaned my fish tank, and ran some errands. I started a weekly menu board for dinners so I am more prepared and more organised in life to bring some routine back into it. And after I have finished this I am going to go for a walk and get some good endorphins flowing.

Life is hard and we slip up.

I wanted to write this to show that I am human, that I fall off the wagon, but it is what we do afterward, how we react to our mistakes, that defines us.

I had a moment. A bad moment. But not a moment that will destroy me or continue any longer. I will listen to those that care about me, take steps to put things in place to stop me falling down again, and move on.

I know I have readers that struggle with their weight, and I know that many of them will relate to this post. What I want you to take away from this is that there is hope, but only in community. There is strength, but only if you first rely and rest on others. There is continuation, but only if you first stop and take stock.

I may have lost this small skirmish, but it will in no way affect the outcome of the war.

The Battle of the Bulge and the Strength of Community.

Ah weight issues, my old nemesis. 

Yet again we meet. 

 I saw you just this morning as I walked passed my mirror and was determined not to acknowledge your presence.

I almost could pretend that you didn't whisper in my ear as I ate a muffin.

I nearly ignored you completely as I tried on a new dress. 

You keep showing your ugly face, your sneer and hateful words are expected and put up with on many days, despite how much I would rather tell you to piss off.

I hate you and you scare me, but for some reason I have put up with you for so many years that I am not sure how I would be without you anymore.

But I am learning.

Last week I stood in front of several groups of people whose eyes told me that they knew you intimately.

In those groups your presence was very much alive and well.

And yet it was in those very places, where I expected you to be strongest, you were at your weakest.

Somehow, as we looked at each other and talked about you, it was there that you failed to have control.

There you were named properly and seen for what you really are; something that can be defeated and controlled.

I saw your influence and at the same time I saw your weakness.

These fighters are not giving up.

I do not fight you alone.'

We shall overcome.

The challenge begins....again

So as you are all very aware, I have been blogging sporadically about my on going weight loss drama. I haven't blogged about it in ages mainly because I pretty much gave up entirely.

That's right, I gave up!

Did. Not. Care. Anymore.

And it showed it my eating and exercising. I did a lot of one and not a lot of the other. I will leave it up to you to determine which is which.

I hadn't lost any weight previous to this but if I had I would have put all of it back on again. It was a few weeks of not giving a stuff.

Because I was tired. Tired of fighting against my own body. Tired of looking in the mirror and not seeing what I felt in my head. Tired of seeing photos of myself and being shocked at what I looked like. I was tired of feeling like I was meant to love myself and then simultaneously meant to want to change everything about me. I was tired of being worried and upset.

So I didn't think about it.

And then I went to the doctor. 

Well let me tell you, when it comes to weightloss the system is out to make you feel awful about yourself.

The BMI - body mass index - is now fondly referred to in my mind as the BSI - bullshit index. Apparently I am morbidly obese. I am the walking dead people. No more emancipated zombies, the real zombies are fat and coming to eat you and everything else in sight! There will be survivors, anyone who can run will be able to outwit these undead, but if we catch you we will sit on you and then you won't run anymore will you!?

Not only am I now a zombie but I also should only weigh 53kgs! I have never weighed that in my life! Who decided that was normal! I mean, I would understand 70 but 50!? Come on! They are just asking me to fail!

And when they do weigh you they don't just put you on a normal scale. Oh no, they have to put you on the industrial sized, steel reinforced, elephant weigh machine. You just look at it and it screams 'fatty!' at you. It's register has so many zeros it wouldn't be humanly possible to fill all the scale counter spaces. It is a device created to dehumanize anyone who touches it, let alone steps onto it. No maintaining you are pretty and delicate when they pull that thing out for you.

After the ordeal of being compared to a hippopotamus they then tell you that you need to lose weight. "do I?" you gasp, incredulous that such a thing could have snuck up on you unnoticed. They then assure you that yes, you are the equivalent of a zombie mammoth, and that you need to do something about it. At this point you are biting back replies of the things you HAVE been doing because, deep down, you know they won't really believe you, and listen to their advice.

Their advice? The best bit.

Go to the gym

Join weight watchers

Make sure you feel hungry all the time.

Let me address the last one first. As someone. Who has had issues with eating disorders in the past I am not a fan of starving yourself in order to get skinny. Not ok with that, weight watchers isn't ok with that, can't believe a doctor told me this.

The other two require something I don't have.....MONEY.

All weight loss solutions are aimed at those that are rich. When was the last time you saw a rich fat person? Never, because they can afford the freaking solutions!

Why is it that weight is such an economic issue? Because bad food is cheap, good food is expensive, and any support losing weight is expensive. WW costs $50 a month! I am bloody student! The gym is $20 a week, pluss the food needed to eat well.

And I know it costs nothing to go for a walk, but when you have the hurdles I have to overcome, support is necessary! I cant do this alone. And I shouldn't have to just because I am poor.

So my mother in law, bless her heart, and I have come up with a new idea. 10 weeks to lose 10 kilos. In that time she will put aside $10 a week to go towards buying me something if I achieve my goal. This is a win win, she loves buying me things, I love getting things, everyone is happy. But more importantly, it gives me a erroneous to get off my ass. It also gives me someone else to talk to and be accountable to.

If you are going through this same process it is vital that you have people surrounding you who are cheering you on and who you can be honest with about your failings, temptations and triumphs. You can do this but not on your own.

Keep it up, wee can do this!

The On-going Saga

It just keeps going.

Since my last update on weight-loss there has been, and hasn't been, a bit to report.

I have been doing a no-carb diet that I have been told will restart my metabolism and get my body working again in eating itself. I have been doing the gym and Luke and I have given up all takeaways, fizzy drink (apart from those with no sugar), desserts (the biggest blow!) and any snacky things that are bad for us. 

The Result?

Luke has lost 5 kilos and I have lost nothing! 

AHHHHHHHHHH!

I cannot even tell you my frustration with this. I have no idea if any of you have battled the bulge but I tell you, to do all that work, to give up the things you love and then to have no result is so demoralizing I can't even tell you.

I keep telling myself that it is good for my insides to do this stuff. Apparently it is meant to be good for my mental health...not! It is far more depressing having to go to the gym for nothing than not doing exercise!

I have also been delving deep into my psyche (a scary and dangerous adventure) to try and figure out what my triggers are, where I trip myself up. I have been thinking deeply about why I like chocolate so much (if that isn't instantly obvious) and how I manage to sabotage myself.

And I have learnt something that I think is important enough to share with those out there in the virtual world who may also have the same issues.

I have learnt that I find this so psychologically hard because I have two different internal dialogues going on about the same issue.

On one hand I have this voice that is saying to me that I shouldn't bother. It says to me that there are so many young women in the world who are bombarded daily with messages telling them that to be desirable and happy they need to be skinny. It says to me that I sho

uld be a living example that says to them that you can be happy, you can find an amazing husband, you can be successful without being skinny. It says that I could live as an opposite of what the world says.

On the other there is a voice that says my body is a temple. I should be losing weight (and trying my hardest to do so) because of my faith in God and because I want to honour what he has given me. I want to live as an example of someone who perseveres in the face of insurmountable odds. I want to give hope to those struggling to lose weight.

So I want to be an example and give hope to people. A admirable thing I think but they are complete opposites to each other!!

I am going to try and pray my way through this one until I can figure out what to do. I still want to go to the gym either way but I don't want my life to be about focusing on weight, food, and exercise. I am lost and slightly confused and that will not help with staying on course with the hard work.

I need to figure this out. Thoughts welcome :)

Killing Ourselves Slowly

Fighting the Flab is back in progress. Just a quick update to let you all know where I am at.

Christmas for us, as with everyone else, is an absolute killer when you are trying to loose weight. We pretty much put everything off for a few weeks as the fun and frivolity took over. Perhaps not the best thing to do but there you are.

So Luke is an amazing husband and has stepped up to the mammoth task of helping me out on this front, or there is no way weight loss was never going to happen. 

Every morning we are going to get up and workout for an hour in the gym (30mins weights and 30mins cardio). We have done it twice now and I am sitting here in so much pain that I will only move for essential issues. My arms hurt, my legs hurt, my abs hurt....everything hurts. Luke is pretty much in the same boat.

We also went through our cupboards and freezer and fridge and gave away (to our all too willing neighbours) all the food that would be self sabotaging. Out went the peanut butter. Out went the heat and eat lasagne. Out went the fizzy drinks and Raro drinks. Oh, and the cheesecake. It was a sad day, we are still wearing black in mourning.

But we are determined. We are even giving up fizzy drink, fast food, chocolate and desserts for lent. 40 days of none of our favourite foods in order to remember what God did for us. Every time we get a craving hopefully it will remind us to pray and think of God.

So back on the treadmill we go. If you don't hear from us for a few days check the gym at Laidlaw: we may have collapsed and haven't been found yet :)

The Saga Continues...

New update on the weight loss saga that is my life.

To be totally honest I have lost all motivation to do anything regarding weight loss and here is why:

I have been told by the doc that I need surgery to help me lose weight. 

I was like "why, can't I just do some crazy diet and exercise and do it myself??"

And she told me the most depressing news I have had in a long time.

Basically I have lost in the past the equivalent to a fully grown human being (70 kilos). My body has responded by saying "holy crap! This woman must be starving and about to die if she has lost that much weight! We must rally the fat cell troops and make sure that she survives!"

So Commander Brain then sent out a memo to the Fat Battalion with this message: "Troops, we have an emergency on our hands. Our beloved leader is dying and we must save her or die trying. To do this no fat is to surrender! No one is to break ranks and desert, no one must fall! Hold fast fat, or we are all going to die."

No one apparently gave my brain the message that the battalion was already so big that it really wouldn't be a problem if a few more were killed off.

So my body, for the sake of saving me is actually refusing to lose weight.

My plan to lose 40 kilos to get below 100 will actually take about 15 years to lose if I do over an hour hard out exercise a day, stay on a diet, and my metabolism doesn't drop.

The fact that I will be getting older in this 15 years means that my metabolism will drop, that exercise will become harder to do, and food will have to be more and more restricted.

In other words, I will be living to lose weight rather than losing weight helping me to live. 

If body stays exactly the same with no changes at all I will still be 45 before I am below 100.

And there is nothing, not a damn thing, that I can do about it!

My body is trying to save me, it doesn't realise that it is actually killing me faster. And there are no medications or diets or anything that will convince my brain that I am not dying.

So surgery it is...but....

Every year 100 surgeries for obesity are given out for free to people who fall into a certain category (you have to be suffering from diabetes or sleep apnea (I am the second), be within a certain age range, and show a determination to lose weight). 

Fortunately I am a perfect candidate. 

Unfortunately there are 100 applications a month for the 100 that are done a year.

So the chances of me getting in are pretty slim (excuse the pun).

And if I don't get the surgery, I may never shift the weight.

And that my friends depresses me more than you can imagine.

It means that every time I eat out with people I am going to be worried that they are judging me and wondering why I am not on a diet. 

It means that I will never be able to go shopping in certain stores and, frankly, every designer seems to be convinced that big New Zealand women actually want to dress in shapeless sacks or spend their entire life savings on one dress!

It means that I will face more and more health problems as I get older.

It means that, if Luke and I decide to have children, I will face infertility problems.

I means that I will never be able to dress up in a sexy little dress that makes Luke's jaw drop and wow everyone I know.

It means I will always hate looking in the mirror.

It means that I will always worry about Luke not finding me attractive (though he will tell me off for saying that as soon as he reads this!)

It means that I will feel like everyone thinks I am fat because I am lazy and I will be forever explaining myself.

And this is the reality I am facing. And really, what is the point of exercising so hard that you almost vomit if it is not going to do a damn thing anyway?

So next time you see a very big person, instead of thinking that they are lazy or sad or don't try hard enough, or you pity them, instead think of what I have been through, and ask yourself 'what has that person been through that they are now like that?'

Next time you see a TV programme where the only fat person is the idiot, the lazy one, the single one or the ugly one, don't laugh.

Big people already have a hard enough life, don't add to it by judging.

Injustice, weight loss and other stories

Ah insomnia.

Such a wonderful motivator for updating my blog.

I can hear Luke in the next room breathing gently, sound asleep in our warm bed, and here I am, in a freezing study, wrapped up in blankets wondering why the heck I am so wired!!

But enough on my sleep patterns, or lack thereof, I have far more interesting tales to keep you addicted to this blog (seriously, I am finding that my ego relies heavily on how many reads I get per post atm. Sad but true!).

My first deep, probing issue that I want to raise with you all is that of injustice.

Light topic for 1am I know.

Luke observed tonight that I have a major issue with injustice and people believing me. At first these too issues don't seem to relate; people not believing me doesn't really seem to be an issue of injustice. But it really is! If I am telling someone the God's honest truth and they flat out refuse to believe me the sense of injustice I feel is overpowering!

It seems like a strange thing to get my knickers in a twist about but there is nothing more frustrating, more hurtful, or more maddening than not being believed.

It was in the course of discussing it with Luke that I began to realise that a lot of these feelings stem from being a child and not being believed. I have memories of the silliest things that still grind me up because in the situation I wasn't believed. I want to pull those memories up in front of those that dismissed me and demand justice, demand that they believe me!

And then I got to thinking (small wonder I am still awake right) that if anyone understands injustice and not being believed it would be Jesus. I mean the dude was nailed to a piece of wood and left to die because people thought he was such a liar.

And he forgave them.

*sigh*

It would be so much easier to live like Christ if he wasn't so freaking good all the time!

So I guess now I have to show grace and mercy and extend forgiveness. Now that I am aware of the issues do I really have any other choice?

All I am really doing by holding on to the anger is swallowing the poison and hoping the people in the wrong will die.

Mercy is about giving to those what they do not deserve and withholding what they do deserve.

They deserve to have their arses kicked.

They don't deserve my forgiveness.

And yet, with God's strength I will try to forgive and perhaps the anger will fade with that.

I really am an angry person. Not nearly as bad as I use to be but I still hold on to a lot of things that hurt or made me angry and it's not until a long time after that I realise I have done that.

I get angry at myself more than anyone else.

Like I found out this week that I will probably need surgery in order to keep losing weight.

Basically my body has slowed down the weight loss so much that I will be 45+ by the time I am a healthy weight, which means health issues and problems if we want children in the near(ish) future.

And so surgery seems to be the way to go according to two unrelated doctors.

I am angry that I let myself get this bad. I have destroyed my body and I didn't even mean to. I can't blame anyone but myself and, though I have lost lots of weight already, it is my body, me, that is stopping me losing weight au-naturale.

It scares me that I am facing such big health issues that surgery seems to be the right way to go.

It worries me that people will think I am lazy and couldn't be bothered trying and so I went with surgery to avoid diet and exercise.

Most of all I felt I have let myself down in such an insurmountable way that I can fix it by myself, and I hate that. I have this huge urge just to ignore the whole thing, throw my hands up in the air and yell "I QUIT" and then spend the rest of my life eating whatever I want, whenever I want, and not caring about the consequences.

But then I talk to Luke about our future plans and I know that that won't fix anything. I can't run away from this, I have to accept that I did this and now this is the way out.

Can't say the list of things that can go wrong in surgery really helps!!

               me at my biggest (2008)                                          me couple of months ago

Breaking Point

Losing weight is hard. Not just in the fact that you have to lose it but mentally and emotionally as well.

Tonight I broke down. I am so tired all the time from working out. I am not at the stage where I can eat bad foods in moderation and it still be ok; I have to avoid them pretty much all together to get to a healthy weight. I work all day and then come home to work out and then cook dinner and stay awake for a couple of hours and then crash only to wake up at 6am and do it all again without any energy to do it with.

And tonight I can't take it any more.

I want to not have to worry about what I eat or the impact it will have on my health.

I don't want to have to work out every day.

I want to be happy with my body without also working towards changing it.

I want the support of a community without feeling like I am letting everyone down if I don't push myself to breaking point.

I want to be able to lose 40kgs without it being a struggle, without having to battle my own head, without missing burger fuel and starbucks frappes.

I want a quick fix that doesn't take two weeks and only get rid of 500gs.

I want to cry with them seemingly hopelessness of it and the fact that I have no one to blame expect myself for putting me in the position of having to lose weight.

Tonight I understand why people give up and return to old lifestyles.

Tonight I understand why people hate their personal trainers.

Tonight I feel desperate for the motivation to keep going.

Tonight I realise how alone one is when battling the bulge. No one can do it for me.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring, but tonight I am at breaking point.

No one ever talks about this stage and I wonder if it is just me. I also wonder if I have hit it quicker than anyone else and what that says about me. I am angry with myself for feeling like this and even wanting to give up and yet I am trying to be nice to myself so I can convince myself to do it.

How do you love your body when you know it HAS to change? How do you accept yourself when your weight is unacceptable?

I don't know if I should post this, if people really want to hear this cry of my heart, but maybe you are reading this and are glad to know someone else out there feels it too.

The world sets out to sell you fatty food and then tells you you have to lose weight. Seriously God, haven't I got through enough already!!?

Tonight life just seems a bit unfair and I am feeling more than a little sorry for myself.

First Hurdle

By now most people I know are aware of the fact that I am trying desperately to lose weight. I have a goal weight and time frame and I am making the lifestyle changes to match.

Before I go on to tell you how I am doing on this front, I thought I would give you a little insight into how I got to the place where my weight was an issue at all. Perhaps talking about it will overcome some of the insecurities I (and others) feel about losing weight.

(me as a bubba..awwwwwww....)

Weight for me has been an issue in my mind for as long as I can remember. As I child I LOVED sweet foods (still do as a matter of fact) and my parents became concerned about it and so stopped giving any of us children dessert. Talk about guilt! It was my fault that my siblings were missing out too.

(me age 2)

My first day of school started by me, a very happy and outgoing child, walking up to a young boy and saying hello. He looked at me and said "you're fat". I found out many years later he was new in the country and they were only two of the handful of words he knew, but for my sensitive wee heart they cut like a knife.

It got worse at school. Confusion over an incident with a friend's sandwich ended up with me being branded a food thief. And then at age 12 my late grandmother told me that I was fat because my parents didn't love me enough and would  put me in the highchair as a baby with bread to eat to make me shut up. My mother cried when she heard that I had been told this and swears it wasn't true.

At age 16 I was sexually violated by a young man and was called all sorts of names at school because of it. My life was spinning out of control so I began to control the only thing I could. Namely, my food. I would binge of food and then force myself to vomit it all up again. In one week I dropped two dresses sizes and my father was so proud that I was getting skinny. I learnt that it was better to be skinny than to be healthy and I continued to binge and purge for years.

(me age 16)

At around the same age I went for a trip to England (where the photo above was taken) and discovered over there my first stretch marks. I was mortified and believed that I was hideously fat. My parents responded by saying that I had put on weight and so they bought me a gym pass so I could work it off. I became addicted to exercise and worked myself into the ground. By the end of the 7th form year I looked like this:

(me age 17/18)

A couple of years later I was married to a man who kept me locked in the house with nothing to do all day except eat and smoke. I ballooned from 65kg to near 200kg in three years. I knew my ex wouldn't come near me if I was fat and unattractive and so I didn't try to lose the weight. When he cheated my father told him (and me) that it was understandable because I was an embarrasment to take out. 

The lowest point in my life was when I was left outside I movie theatre where my ex was watching a movie because I didn't fit in the seats.

(me age 23)

Ever since then I have been battling the bulge. Part of me didn't want to lose it because it kept me safe from leering men. And yet I have always wanted to regain a body that I could be proud of. It is hard to do when the only memories you have of being skinny are dark and depressing.

I have been going strong for three weeks and encountered my first hurdle. I felt so discouraged that all my effort to eat healthy and exercise hadn't shown immediate results. Call me naieve if you wish but I kinda expected it to fall off me. And it's not. But the love and support I have received from people has been overwhelming and I want to take this moment to say thank you. It is because of you that this journey is free of pain and depression. You are forming good memories for me and you are making this something I want to do and am enjoying doing.

Words cannot express how much it means to me. Each small comment of support has helped heal my heart around this issue and I love you for it.

I want to say to anyone who has weight issues and has faced any of the stuff that I have that you are not in this alone. You do not have to do this alone. Even if you tell one or two trusted people who will love you it is so good for your heart to have them support you. YOU CAN do this!!

And for anyone who has stories that would like to share of weight loss and/or overcoming obstacles in their life, please share, it helps more than you know.

OK I'm TERRIFIED

Something major is happening in my life.

Something that is huge (or will be).

Something that is potentially gonna be awesome.

Something that terrifies the holy bejeezus outta me.

I, Christine Welten, am going to try and lose weight.

Now, before you stop reading, I know this may not seem like that big of a deal. But trust me it is. Lemme explain.

First of all, when I last got weighted at the doctor I cried because I realised how bad things were really getting. The idea of health issues etc when I am older scares me (and Luke) far more than anything else so I decided, no I DECIDED (capital letters are a must for this) that enough was enough, it was time to pull myself up by the bootstraps and get this under control once and for all.

But this is harder than it sounds.

The amount I will have to lose seems so monstrous that I am scared to even begin! 

I am scared I will fail and that I will just get depressed about it.

But most of all (for those who have read my last blog "My Story") my weight served as a mental 'protection' barrier from any unwanted attention from the opposite sex. Let's face it, no one checks out the fat girl and I actually like it that way.

So I am finding myself feeling sick at the thought of doing this.

But I am DETERMINED so do it I will. 

People don't call me pig-headed for nothing.

I guess the thing that is most daunting is the idea of a 'lifestyle' change. It is such an all encompassing thing that it seems a bit too...well....harsh is the best word I have.

I don't want to give up yummy tasting food, even if people try and convince me that my taste for it will change.

I don't want to get all sweaty and icky going to the gym everyday.

I don't want to have to think about my weight when I go out for dinner.

But let's face it, I don't really want to die of a heartache or diabetes related illnesses either. And that is by far the bigger issue (and motivator here).

The awesome thing about all this is I happen to have a qualified personal trainer as a friend and neighbour who heard that I was serious about this and has offered his services (good thing to because I couldn't afford one of those. Youtube would've been good but in person is much better).

Another awesome thing is having a husband who is going to sacrifice his own diet for my benefit to support me.

Poor Luke, he'll probably turn into a rabbit with all the veges.

It is time.

Feel the fear and do it anyway has always been my motto (that and "God has not given you a spirit of fear, but one of power, love and a soundness of mind" 2 Tim 1:7).

I have got through worse and survived. I have quit smoking, drinking and a bad marriage and survived. I CAN DO THIS!!

(Please God help me do this)