Saturday, November 10, 2012

My Fat Butt - oh, well

Well, I reached a point in my frustration where I went back on my meds. I still had some left, so I just decided to do it. Told Fireman, and asked him to help me keep an eye out for side effects so I can stop them if I need to.

Three weeks of being on my meds.

Three weeks of even-more-strictly watching what I eat.

Three weeks of seeing our grocery spending increase while our restaurant spending decreases.

Three weeks of my husband making comments about how little I ate at such-and-such a meal.

Three weeks of getting even more exercise (but being careful, because my back is even worse - need to do a separate post on that).

Three weeks later... and I am holding steady. Haven't gained any more. But haven't lost so much as a pound. Not one.

And that's on my meds.

Got so frustrated that I took a pregnancy test (no, we're not trying. yes, I'm on birth control). It was negative. Not surprising, but I was hoping for an answer.

This has been my life. For as long as I can remember.

Add in side-eyes from thin people. Comments about how I should just eat less. Exercise more. It's easy!

It's not easy. Not for everyone.

What sent me to the endocrinologist in the first place was the tipping point of standing in the gym and having a trainer yell at me that I was lying to them. That after six weeks of following their program, if I had been following, I would have lost a ton of weight & inches.

I didn't. I lost one stinkin' pound. I went from not exercising at all, to working out 3 -5 times a week, including 1 -2 times a week with a personal trainer. I was doing my best to follow their eating plan. I'll admit I didn't manage 100% adherence, but it was a drastic change to what I had been doing beforehand.

And after six weeks I had only lost 1 lb.

And was being accused of lying. Because everyone loses weight when they make those changes.

Not everyone.

Not me.

See. Here I am again.

Part of me is depressed. I can't stand the way my body looks. Very few clothes fit (although I did give in & with FireMan's blessing spent $$ on a new work outfit).

Part of me is just... okay with it. I've tried. I an honestly say that I have tried. I have worked really hard. No matter what society says, I have nothing to be ashamed of. I gave it my best. And my body just refuses to be thin. Even with medical intervention.

So, what now? I'm not sure. I'm continuing to improve my eating: eating more & more at home, incorporating more & more fruits & veggies. Everything in moderation. I'm continuing to try to find ways to get exercise: we recently joined our local YMCA (year-round swimming! zero impact! yay!).

I've considered more drastic measures. Strict, programmed diets (ie. meal replacements & such). Even surgery (there are more options than I realized).

But as frustrated as I am, I'm not ready for anything drastic. At least not without guaranteed results, which no one can do.

Maybe I'll just learn to be content with this body. Maybe I'll hit a plateau, and stay there. Maybe I'll eventually learn to dress this body well (Geesh! It took me 25 years for this fashion-handicapped person to figure out how to dress my old pre-pregnancy body!). And maybe all of that is okay.

As always, thanks for checking in.

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