Saturday, July 19, 2014

Step One


It’s been 29 weeks since I first stepped on the scale at the doctor’s office.  I knew how much I weighed thanks to my bathroom scale but something about them writing it down and recording it felt so much more momentous.  291.  There it was in big, bold numbers.  It was here at this clinic that I was going to finally get help from a medical professional to get control over my life.  My weight has yo-yoed a span of 30 lbs. in the past 6 years and I grew disgusted with the person who stared back at me in the mirror.  My clothes were too tight, I was out of breath walking a flight of stairs and my eating habits were out of control.  As I waited in the tiny consultation room reading the posters on the wall about obesity and heart disease, I told myself that this time it had to work.  Failed diet after failed diet, this is the one I needed to stick.  Something in my brain recently triggered and I decided to call the clinic I had heard about through a friend.  Even now, people ask me what changed and made me decide to start this journey and it’s still one of the toughest questions to answer.  This girl who weighs 291 pounds isn’t me.  I just wanted to be happy with myself.

It may sound stupid to some of you but not being alone forever was really the driving force.  I’ve never been in a relationship.  I’m so sick of always being a party of 1.  Until you’ve been this girl, you won’t understand and that’s okay.  We all have different struggles and not all are relatable to others.   I think I finally realized that I’m not getting any younger and no one is going to love me until I can love myself.  I’ve always felt like a skinny person trapped in this body.  I’m funny, outgoing, pretty, smart and kind.  I had a lot going for me but physical appearance is a non-negotiable for some guys.  I just wanted to be happy with someone else.

There I was, on that brown leather couch, with my choices laid out in front of me.  Make changes or remain the same.  After the visit, I got in my car and drove to McDonalds for a break-up lunch.  I cried on my way back to work, not because of the French fries, because I had a huge mix of emotions.  I was so proud of myself for taking this first step but I was so embarrassed at who I was.  It’s so hard to admit that you have a problem but it’s so noble to seek help for that problem.  While I was embarrassed that I had hit rock bottom and couldn’t achieve weight loss on my own, I was so excited to start this next book.  No, it wasn’t a turning of the page or changing of the chapters.  This was a sequel: Sarah part II.  I just wanted to be happy.

So, I chose happy.

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