Weighted

Today a photo of myself (taken with friends) rocked my world. I had to come to accept that that is in fact my reality, and the only person who can change it is me...

As far back as I can remember I have struggled with my weight. I remember being the tallest and heaviest "little" girl in my Grade 1 class. I have no reason to attribute for my weight gain as a child, and now as an adult. I didn't suffer any traumas nor did I grow up with a family who had bad eating habits. In fact, I was an active child. My family always chose holidays and activities with focus on the outdoors. I was never denied foods as child, and my mother always made sure to provide me with a balanced meal, which was to always be eaten (slowly) at the dinner table. I do remember having a voracious appetite. I ate a lot, and do remember the odd secret sneak here and there, which is why I gained a lot of weight. 
At 12 years old, on my request, my Mom took me to my first dietitian who created a starve sheet for me to follow and told me to "get used to that hungry feeling". I knew right off the bat that this woman was with the budgies. I followed her diet and lost, I think, 10 kilos. Well done me. I stopped the diet and hello 10 kilos and it's friends. 

Age 12 led into my teen years and more self awareness. I was hugely ('scuse the pun) aware that my uniform didn't quite fit like the others girls did. My skirt was a little tighter, my shirt a few sizes larger. In high school I played field hockey, but sport was definitely a four-letter word as far as I was concerned. I remember that I tried Weight Watchers at one stage in high school, don't recall if I lost anything, just money. I do remember my weight on that card though, 88 kilograms, and remember thinking, never again. 
An eating plan only works when you commit your mind to it. I don't think I have ever been committed to an eating plan for that long. When I was 16/17, my weight was at an all time high and my mother was worried. My hair was starting to fall out and my weight was ballooning. My Mom took me for tests as well as to an endocrinologist, it was discovered that I have Poly cystic Ovarian Sydrome with Type II diabetes. A condition brought on by being overweight. In turn my body was producing too much testosterone, thus I was developing male pattern baldness, and gaining weight. What 17 year old girl wants this news? Not me. So I was prescribed the pill and glucophage (insulin meds).

In my matric year I made up my mind to finally get into shape and my amazing parents hired a personal trainer for me. I saw Belinda once a week, and she was grueling. I remember carrying my school bag and being unable to place it on the floor as my arms were too sore. I had never felt better.

In 2004 I had to stop training as I started university in Grahamstown. I made a futile attempt at going to the gym there, but I watched what I ate... not what I drank. Slowly the kilos, my old friends, came back.

 

The next year, 2004, I moved back to Joburg and onto AFDA. My third year at AFDA, 2007, owing to my fluctuating schedule, and weight, I was able to go to gym most mornings. I loved the exercise. My weight had stabilised. I was nowhere near a goal but I wasn't putting on more weight. I am pretty sure there were a few more dietitians in those years, yeah, I am certain of it. 

I started working in 2008 and continued working out. My weight never really changed, but then I never really put much effort into it. I went out a lot, drank a lot and had a lot of fun. I did however develop a really bad chest infection that did not seem to go away for more than 3 months. I had tried 3 sets of anti-biotics and only seemed to get worse. 

Around August 2008 I went to an iridologist and after inspecting my eyes (which I thought was hooey), he prescribed a strict diet and supplement plan. It was a huge handful of vitamins and supplements and mutis that I had to ingest. I lost around 6 kilos and by the end of 2008 I was literally glowing. I had to stop the program for obvious "crazy person" reasons. I mean I peed out 90% of the vitamins anyways, and it was costing me a sweet fortune. I received many compliments and was feeling great again. 

In 2009 I added running to my workout. I really enjoyed this as it was time with my dog Caesar. Just me, the road, my music and my dog. My weight stayed the same, but I was loving life. I felt great and don't think I have looked as good in years. 

This photo was taken at my 24th (so much fun), and for me it marks the end of when I knew who 'me' was. After that time I made a pact to myself to be a truer me. To live clean; free from strange attractions, and bad situations. I was fine until I had my first real breakdown. My parents were worried and wondered if I should have possibly been hospitalised. 

I pulled through it and into 2010, the year of the world cup and the year that my life was about to change. I signed up for an extreme weight loss plan. This was it, I was going to do it and succeed. The Fat Loss Lab diet is not for everyone, however they claim to create an exclusive plan according to your weight, age, blood type and other criteria. It's just a severely calorie restricted diet that works because the only thing you are allowed to eat is 80g of protein and veg (and 5 provita per day). After the initial weight-loss there is a re-feed program which I never got to as the starving got to me first. I looked amazing I won't lie. I lost around 15-17 kilograms, after which I put it all back on, and then some.

I got thin and I got a boyfriend, go figure. A guy with whom I had been friends for over 10 years suddenly showed an interest in me. It goes to prove that a little extra cushioning does get in the way of romance. Our relationship was doomed from the start and we fought non-stop. It seems that I foretold our story when I published my lyric of the day back in June of 2010, before we got together. I couldn't control my anger towards him and would start to take it out on myself (angry rages, suicide attempts, suicide threats and breakdowns). I got comfortable in the relationship and never felt shy to eat in front of him. He never mentioned my weight, nor made me feel uncomfortable. In fact he was amazing by making me feel loved with regards to my body image. Despite all of our fighting we stayed together and were of the opinion that love prevails. 

I had another breakdown at the end of 2010 and he was there to support me. We went to Cape Town in December 2010. He had never been before and I made every effort to ensure that it was the best holiday that he had ever had. I needed to rest and reflect, but we ran around. We fought the whole holiday which did not make things fun, but when we had fun, we laughed and we loved.

At the beginning of 2011, on the insistence from my parents and my doctor it was decided that I see a psychiatrist. I was put onto anti-depressants and other medication to treat Bipolar Type II disorder. This started my year of medication drama. It took me 18 months to find the correct mix and balance of medications (and the correct psychiatrist) to get on track. I had awful side effects from flu-like symptoms to a rash that covered my entire body. 

We had gone on holiday to the Kruger and I was on new meds.
So sick. So swollen. Balloon face. 

I documented most of my thoughts, episodes and feelings (about him) in blog posts:

a), b), c), d), e), f), g), h), i)  

Throughout 2011 my weight climbed. The psychiatrist had warned me that a side-effect of the lithium was weight gain. I never had time for gym. I never had time for me. My life was being consumed by an unhealthy relationship and work. We fought, I ate, we laughed, I ate. I made an attempt at shrinking my bottom when I re-joined Weight Watchers in the September of 2011. I went for about 3 months, I got all the booklets, that's how I know I went for that long. 

Blur into 2012 and nothing had changed. We moved in together in February, and we were split up by April. I don't think I made many trips to the gym during the year. The company that I work for had acquired a new client and my life became about work. I switched one bad relationship for another. My ex and I had a brief stint together again in September / October 2012, but you can't always mend a broken glass heart when too many pieces have been lost along the way. 

Roll on 2013. I decided that this was my year to reinvent myself. I was single, and still young. I had always wanted to try boxing, and found a boxing trainer. After a brutal end of 2012 working ridiculously long hours, I decided that I would no longer work overtime and I would put that time into me. 

I now train with the boxing trainer for an hour, twice a week. He is just what I need. Someone to kick my ass. I also attend a Pilates class once a week that my mom teaches. So I get the strength training, the cardio and the stretching and toning. On alternate days I also hit the gym alone to do some cardio. I have been training for about 2 months now and have only lost 2 kilos. I do watch what I eat although some days / weeks I have a wobble. I should have lost more and am having blood tests to see if perhaps it is my thyroid or medication inhibiting me from losing the weight. I am going to be kicking my diet into turbo mode. I will be taking "2013 Weight Loss" slowly. It is the only way to ensure that I settle into a lifestyle of fitness, health and well-being. 

I found a website that shows you at your current weight and then at goal. I thought it was a great motivator. I will keep on referring to it. 

Oh and that photo that really rattled me, here it is:

I hope you enjoyed the read, it was a long one I know, and if you feel that you can relate to me in anyway let me know. Much love. 

Take It or Leave It

The day after yesterday. The aftermath of it all. We came to a resolution. We came to a conclusion. We need mediation. I am tired. I am so tired. Fighting is so senseless, yet most of the world is brandishing arms against one enemy or another. We are constantly at war, in the home, on our home grounds. I am not about to get pseudo-political here. It is simply a comparison. If we cannot even get along in love, how can humans be expected to get along anywhere else. 


I look to another woman to was just as mad, sad and filled with sentences as me... Sylvia Plath. I won't be sticking my head in an oven any time soon. My road has a little more light at the end of it. 


But I leave you with some prose for thought from her. She wrote so magically. I ache when I read her. She gets it. She gets it.


This is how I felt this morning;

"I couldn’t see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to." 

- Sylvia Plath

This is how I feel by the end of this long day;

"Let me live, love and say it well in good sentences." 

- Sylvia Plath

"Too Sorrowful to Weep"

This may just be the most raw entry to date. I am home on a Saturday night, once again. I have a loving boyfriend, I have a loving family and a fun group of friends whom I see regularly yet I am in the deepest, darkest, no words to describe of depressions. I cry everyday, contemplate suicide, research methods of said suicide and fight with everyone. I feel alone, I feel lonely, I feel disconnected and empty yet I am surrounded by love and light. It is hard to see the light when you have been in the dark for so long. It could be a simple hormonal imbalance, who knows. But tonight was the breaking point and my parents were phoning doctors to have me committed. What a frightening thought. A night in the hospital for a mental and emotional meltdown. It has been a long time coming though. I can't remember the last time I was happy for an extended period of time. It always seems too hard. I never stick to an eating plan, I never stick to an exercise regime, I used to drink too much, stay out too late, fight too much and judge too much. I am unhappy. I think admitting it to myself has to be the first step. It has come between my relationship with my boyfriend and my relationship with my parents, even my friends. 


I look at myself in photographs and do not identify or connect with the person (myself) in it. I sometimes even feel jealous of the girl on the arm of my boyfriend. 'I want to be her', I think. Insane huh? I don't feel an urge to connect with anyone, make an effort with anyone. I have lost my drive. Yet when it comes to my career and work, people would never think this, as in the professional work environment I am highly driven, passionate and proud. Sometimes too self-sacrificing. I don't have a balance. What is life without balance but then a constant battle of uphills and downhills. 


I am thankful, grateful and relieved for the inevitable confrontation that will lead to my healing. I am ready to leave the past behind and move from the darkness into the light. I hope that no one go through such ordeals. I know life is not such a bully as I make it out to be, but when it is bad, it is really really bad. I am looking forward to the good. For what else can I do. 


Let me share a poem... It is dark, but I connected with it in the past;

"When you have tidied all things for the night,

And while your thoughts are fading to their sleep,

You'll pause a moment in the late firelight,

Too sorrowful to weep.

The large and gentle furniture has stood

In sympathetic silence all the day

With that old kindness of domestic wood;

Nevertheless the haunted room will say:

'Someone must be away.'

The little dog rolls over half awake,

Stretches his paws, yawns, looking up at you,

Wags his tail very slightly for your sake,

That you may feel he is unhappy too.

A distant engine whistles, or the floor

Creaks, or the wandering night-wind bangs a door

Silence is scattered like a broken glass.

The minutes prick their ears and run about,

Then one by one subside again and pass

Sedately in, monotonously out.

You bend your head and wipe away a tear.

Solitude walks one heavy step more near..."

- Solitude by Harold Monro