It's All in How You Feel....

This weight loss thing can be a real mind fuck...seriously. I mean, you work & work at it, seriously watch what you eat...try too don't exercise and nothing happens. I know I should add exercise to my routine but anyone that really knows me also knows that I don't do mornings or physical activities. I'm fairly lazy and I know it (that was totally sung in my head as "I'm Sexy and I Know It.")...

I've also had the hardest time coming up with healthy meals that don't involve ingredients that I've never heard off...like leeks. WHAT THE HELL ARE LEEKS?!? Ugh....stupid diets.

I'm not giving up on this, by no means, but I am annoyed. I'm just so bitchy lately. Well, I'm usually always bitchy but it's been horrible the last week or so. I blame the lack of fatty food "goodness." Or maybe, I'm just extra bitchy for no reason. AnyWHORE, on to the other stuff....


The past few weeks have been give or take. My weight is kind of floating between 270 lbs to 273 lbs. I want so badly to break out of the 270's because I haven't been under that in YEARS....at least 5 or so. It just seems that as soon as I get close to breaking it, I find myself face first in a mountain of sweets & fast food. I'm screwing myself, I know and for some weird kinky reason I am loving it. I can't find a way to stay motivated and break this damn cycle. I mean, yesterday I weighed in at 271 lbs and what did I do today? Drink a 20 oz Mountain Dew and scarf down some fatty, yummy, pasta from Applebee's.

*choo-choo* ALL ABOARD THE FATTY EXPRESS!!

Next stop? EVERY DAMN FAST FOOD PLACE ON EARTH!!!

I need to quit fucking myself and start staying focused and on target. I'm not only doing this for my health...I'm also doing this for the children that I haven't even conceived yet...this is so I can get to a healthy weight to ACTUALLY be able to conceive....shit.
Speaking of that...for those that don't know. I have what is called PCOS or Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome. I know that dropping weight can help me in several different ways but I find myself messing up over & over. I don't know if it's because I have some weird belief that I'm not suppose to be skinny/healthy or I'm just a closet crack head. (I'm not really a crack head...)

I do know that I have this unusual apparently normal love/hate relationship with food. I'm never been what you would call a "foodie." I'm not someone who enjoys eating...seriously. If I could honestly survive without food then I'd never eat. It holds no appeal for me. I think it's because I've always seen food as a way to cope with feelings. Yes...I'm an emotional eater. I know it & I've been fighting it like mad the last few months with a few small victories and tons of major losses. When I get stressed (which isn't often; I'm seriously too "okay" with everything) my first instinct is to stuff my face with food. Happy? Food. Sad? Food. My answer to every emotion is food. I've been working on just dealing with my feelings but that's only made me realize that my emotions are everywhere (is that normal?). One way that I've started to win is by actually learning to cook. My hatred of food also meant that I never bothered learning how to cook. However, last year I decided that I wanted had to learn. I mean, I want to have kids some day & when I squeeze those little massive babies out of my hoo-haa then I want to be a stay at home mom. What will I feed those little bastards all day? I guess they could be raised on a diet of Ramen Noodles but I'm not 100% that's okay. So, I bit the bullet and learned to cook. With that, I gained control to fix what I like & wanted instead of enduring the hubs never ending love of Hamburger Helper....seriously. He has a major love affair with that stuff. It's borderline creepy.

I started off making dinners that were just as fattening (if not more so) than what the hubs made. When I got serious (sort of) about dropping weight, I started googling the hell out of healthy recipes. Anything labeled healthy then I started going for low calorie meals. Slowly, I've turned our eating habits around. Yes, we still struggle with eating out but we've gone from eating out 5-6 times a week to only doing it 1-2 times. We've also cut out 99% of our soda intake. Yes, we still have one every now & then but it use to be all we drank. Literally. Now, we both drink lakes of water...yay water (not really).

I know for us to drop the weight & for it to stick we have to make lifestyle changes but no one told me they would be this damn hard. It seems like for every one good choice we make, there are another 2 or more we make that are terrible. I really do try...honestly. I make my jokes & shit but we try hard to do this. We stumble and make mistakes but everyone does. No one is perfect...no one. We do our best and I think that's all anyone can really ask for.


While I'm writing all this, there is a song that keeps playing over & over in my head. It really kind of sums up what I'm doing to myself on this journey to the skinny....and let me clarify; when I say skinny I mean around 170 lbs. That's as small as I want to get....I don't want to be pencil thin. I want to be comfortable with my weight and in a healthy spot...

Now, on to the tunes!

★Alicia★

Let's get serious, if you will.

This is me....at 285lbs. I am always told I don't "look" like I weigh that much. Really? So instead of looking like a fatty, fatty, fatty I'm just a fatty, fatty? Thanks.

My weight did a major jump at 2 points in my life. The first was when Matt (the hubs) & I moved in together. We had two totally different eating habits and instead of sticking to those or making a nice blend of the two, I found myself just eating what he liked. Mainly because I didn't cook but also because I was really too lazy to care. I was 19 and under the belief that I would never need to diet and exercise. At the time I was 175lbs. On my 5'7" frame, it looked great and I carried it well. However, Matt's eating style didn't sit well with my body and I gained. I got up to about 225-235lbs. I'm not exactly sure as I refused to weigh myself. EVER. The other major weight gain in my life was when my dad was diagnosed with terminal liver cancer. I was a girl who's daddy was her hero. Even at 20 years old, I still believed he was Superman. So, when he was diagnosed and we learned that he literally had months left and there wasn't anything anyone could do, I turned to food. I ate constantly. It was how I "comforted" myself. When Daddy passed away 9 months later, I was at 285lbs. The biggest I had ever been. 

During all of this, since shortly after I first moved in with Matt, my period started going all crazy. I'd go 3 or 4 months and never have one and it honestly NEVER dawned on me that something could be wrong. I just figured it was stress or the weight gain. It wasn't until after Matt & I were married; a little over a year after my Daddy passed away, that I finally went to the doctor. The main reason I finally went was because I had health insurance. The first gyno I went too took one look at me and said "It's Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome." She never did any tests or anything. As she was explaining what PCOS was, I guess the look on my face worried her. She was real quick to add "Honey, it's a SYNDROME. This is not permanent, this does not define you. If you drop some weight & eat healthy, you will get rid of this." Naturally, my response to that diagnosis was to eat....A LOT. I then decided that she didn't know what she was talking about so I went to another doctor.....and got the same diagnosis. This 2nd doctor was the suppose to be the best doctor in the area for PCOS patients. She had several articles published in numerous medical journals & magazines on the subject. I trusted her & her opinion.She is also the same doctor who couldn't decide how much Metformin she wanted me to take. It went from 500mg once a day, to 500mg twice a day, then it was 500mg three times a day and finally it was 700mg twice a day. The 700mg literally felt like I was dying from the inside out. My body never adjusted to it and when I would take it, I would have to plan my day around where the nearest toilet was. However, I told this doctor visit after visit that my main goal was to one day have a baby. The doctor told me that I was "entirely too big" to have a baby and I needed to look into other alternatives. Add another dream crusher to the mix and Alicia keeps shoveling food down her throat. I finally had enough of that doctor after 5 years and I switched. There is a doctor in my home town that all of my female friends swear by. They all say she is the best doctor ever. What really made me want to give her a try was when I found out Cas was using her and she is currently pregnant with her 3rd child. Since, Cas was also once a PCOS patient and she is now not....I thought I'd give this new doctor a try. 

When I first found out I had PCOS, I cried. Constantly. Then I decided that I didn't really want kids so it didn't matter. I was torn....one minute I was telling my husband I wanted kids so bad & I was looking at baby stuff left & right. My friends & family always got the story that although I loved kids, I wasn't sure they were "for me." I told everyone, except my husband, this lie. Including myself. I was seriously convinced for years that kids were nice and all but I really didn't want any. Then I turned 27 and my biological clock went from a minor background annoyance to this huge, massive, clock doing jumping jacks in my direct line of sight. I realized that I wanted a baby and I wanted one BADLY. I also realized that I wanted one before I turned 30. Now, don't get me wrong, I think people who have their first child after 30 are totally fine & I see nothing wrong with it. However, I just don't think it's for me. I want my first one before 30 and then the rest can come whenever. 

So, here I am. I'm 27, I weigh 274lbs (currently) and stand 5'7". I'm doing this for 2 people....myself and the life of my future children. I refuse to be the over weight mom. I had one of those growing up...I know what it's like to want your mom to go outside and play with you, to run & ride bikes...to play but all she can do is sit and watch. I hated that and I will NEVER be that to my children. Ever. 

Even if children don't happen for me...even if there is some underlying cause to my fertility issues and there's no chance I'll ever be a mother....then I want to be healthy for me. I want to enjoy a nice, long life with my wonderful husband. I want us to grow old & gray together. I want us to be that old couple you see that have been together 50 years and still hold hands & be in love like two teenagers.

Speaking of my husband....he has been my rock through all of this. He has stood by me, loved me and supported me through all of the uncertainties. When I broke down crying in the car and told him that if he wanted to divorce me if we couldn't have children, then I would understand. He just smiled at me and said "Babe, I didn't marry you for your ovaries. I married you for you. Yes, I want kids but if it isn't meant to be then that's fine as long as I have you." He's also the same man that says nothing when I go through my "OMG-WHAT-IF-IM-PREGNANT-AND-DONT-KNOW-IT?" fits and I get pregnancy test crazy. He doesn't let my over active imagination get the best of me...and on the rare times it does? He talks me off that ledge. I love you, snicker-fuck!

>>Alicia<<