Seriously?

(my first WW post was this...)

Am I really this scattered and indecisive?

I have been literally flip-flopping between no sugar, no carbs, low carbs, low cal, etc. I feel super-great with no sugar, but I cannot stick with it for more than like 2 months and that’s on a good run. I will lose 15 to 20 pounds, then fall off the wagon after lusting after a piece of bread (real bread, not weird bread) then gain it all back. That can’t be good for my body. Every time, I am right back to hurting knees, no energy, feeling like shit, etc.

Plus I always have in the back of my mind the fact that I did weight watchers online and lost 70 pounds on one stint. (Went on to lose 90+.)  Felt great, I remember having energy and even trying (in vain) to get a tennis group together at work! (I still have that damn tennis racquet hanging in my craft room, waiting to be used…) I ate what I wanted, just less of it and I lost weight almost every week, consistently (even through the holidays). So here I go again… (♫ on my own… going down the only road I’ve ever known... like a drifter I was born to walk alone… … … … … I’ve made up my mind I ain't wasting no more time… here I go again… here I go aga-ai-ai-ainnnnnn ♪)

So I will end this first post with this: I am just very frustrated with everything. I promised myself I would not turn 30 years old and be the weight I am/was. I let myself down and here I am, already 30 ½ years old and just as fat as ever.

On Tuesday I cried.

I realized yesterday afternoon, (while on my way to pick up my precious little girl from daycare) that I simply must do this weight watchers thing to the best of my ability and MAKE it work for me again because I can NOT go have weight-loss surgery. (I guess I should mention that I have really been feeling like surgery is my only option lately. I have been weighing the options and seriously considering it…)

Well, I had just about convinced myself that I should do it… other people’s opinions be damned BUT then I realized that the possibility of dying, either from the surgery itself or complications, would leave my precious baby without me. I pictured her growing up without me. I cried all the way to the daycare.

I cried because I cannot imagine not being around to see her grow up.

I cried because I wondered how she would feel knowing her Mommy couldn’t stop stuffing her mouth, so she tried surgery and something went wrong.

I also cried because it felt like my “only-way-out-last-resort” was crushed because I have no right to be “selfish” and do this for me, when I have a little one to think of.

I cried because I don’t want to die because of a surgery even if I had no child.

BUT then I cried because I feel like I will die anyway if I stay fat.

Then I cried because I have been just thinking of myself lately and it never dawned on me that my fatness affects others...

Then I cried because I am torn and left confused as to where the line is… between selfish and taking care of oneself.

Then I cried because I know even if I got the surgery, I would still have to change the way I eat and I know in my heart I would struggle with that. No one wants to have weight-loss surgery, then turn around and eat themselves back up to over 300 pounds.

Then I cried because if I have to change the way I eat after… why would I not just change the way I eat without a surgery.

Then I cried because I feel like my only option is to do weight watchers, which has kinda worked before, but is, in reality… (Here’s the kicker) THE HARD WAY.

Getting down to business...

Let's just dig right in.

I am fat.
I have been fat my entire life.
I hate being fat.
I have tried every diet in existence.
Weight Watchers was the only one that did not quite turn into an epic fail.
I was always hungry.
I lost 90+ pounds!
I got pregnant in 2009.
I discovered I could eat like a mad-woman and not gain.
I stopped doing WW.
I kept eating like a mad-woman afterwards.
I gained most of my WW-lost weight back.
I tried more diets.
I cut out all sugar.
I felt great!
I could not stick with it completely.
I lost/regained the same 25 pounds over and over about 4 times.
I am 30 years old.
I hate being fat.
I rejoined Weight Watchers.

You are now up-to-date. You just experienced the short-drama-free-version of my battle with my weight. If you keep up with my blog, I assure you, you will hear plenty of the long-version.

(I have just started a blog on Weight Watchers too, and I think I will post my first two entries from that blog on here too.)

Side note: please dont expect anything I say to be in chronological order. I will, however try to let you know the approx. date, year, and so-forth that things I tell you about happened.

Why the heck am I blogging?

Well, the way I figure it... everyone else is doing it, why shouldn't I?!

No, that's really not it. I am kind of hoping that this will be a form of therapy for me. More on that later.

First off, I want you to know that I REALLY wanted to name this blog "Shit Fire and Save the Matches".  (makes me chuckle everytime) Some folks may recognize that saying as a way of expressing pure aggravation with something. (As in...let's say you spend a good amount of time packing a great lunch for work, but when you sit down at lunchtime to eat said lunch...WHAT? you left your lunchbag on the counter at home?... Say it with me... "Well, shit fire and save the matches!")

I heard that saying a few times growing up and honestly, that's how I feel about my weight. In fact, I cannot think of a better saying. I may change the name of this blog yet...