How to redeem the wicked

When does a person decide when they are wrong?  When do they look at themselves in the mirror and truly see themselves without judgment or bias?  Every month or so I decide that I am going to lose 100 pounds in a day and jump in head first.  I work out faithfully for a week and then when I see that what I am doing is working I say, "great, I am done now right?".  This usually follows a three week bender that is similar to that on the classic movie Heavyweights.  I wake up with Twinkie's on my breath and shame on the scale.  5 years ago I was 245 pounds.  I was treading the size 14 jean size and I was purchasing clothes in a regular store without pulling or rearranging my shirts.

It seemed as if I could conquer anything and everything in life.  I had confidence and vigor in my step.  I was happy to be whom I was and it felt like nothing could go wrong.  Since that time, I have relapsed to my original weight.  It wasn't overnight either.  Gaining weight is a tricky game.   First it starts with 5 pounds that can easily be explained away to either bloating from last night's meal or the dreaded "lady times" that makes any sane woman feel like a stark raving mad person screaming and crying in the same minute.  The next 5 pounds are ignored and life continues on its merry way.  Then your jeans start to feel a little tight when you try to cinch them onto your frame.  Could it be the pesky dryer up to its old antics again you wonder?  Then the scale proves that your dryer isn't out to get you: 15 pounds gained.  How could you let yourself gain 15 pounds?!?  How could you be so lazy?  That first 15 pounds of weight gained back brings back self-doubt, self-pity, self-hate, and lastly binge eating once again.  Pound by pound clicks back onto your body and it only makes you feel terrible about yourself.  It took me 4 years to gain the 85 pounds I had sworn I had lost for good.  

I think now about all the late-night eating after the kids have gone to bed and the only thing I can think to do is stuff my face with whatever sweet concoction I have prepared.  I do that.  I hide most of my eating in lonely kitchens where the fork and I become a duo that cannot be stopped.  I go back for seconds and thirds and fourths, each time stuffing as much cake or cookie or anything else into my mouth before I am caught by another person.  My appetite to suppress my feelings of what I have done to myself is huge.  I hate everything about what I have done.  I hate looking at my reflection and worst of all, I perpetuate the problem.  I hate what I've done, but I am doing nothing to stop it, in fact, I am continually keeping it going by overeating.  I have a treadmill in my room that gets used once a month when I am feeling like I can be active again.  

So what is different about today?  What is so different about July 27, 2016 huh?  Why would this day be so special?  Well today I know I have support.  Last night I spoke to my sister Christine about her unfortunate weight gain.  She lost 100 pounds and has gained back 40 of it.  She didn't want to be a statistic and I didn't want her to be like I have been.  She and I are now in a pact to eat better and quite frankly take care of ourselves.  I was feeling great about the conversation last night and then this morning I stuffed my mouth with the banana bread cake with browned butter frosting I made.  Its like the switch of self-destruction is on auto-play and turns on the second I wake up each morning.  I ate two pieces of the cake in scattered moments within the morning.  I had planned to go jogging last night but as the hours of the day continued to pass, I was losing the motivation to start up.  I even remembered a thought while I was vacuuming:

  "I'll just start on Monday and when Chris calls on Saturday to check-in, I will give her my starting weight.  This way I can eat whatever I want this weekend and start fresh then."   

Do you see the crap I do?  Do you see how I continue my pattern of obesity?  I stopped myself after that thought.  I sat down and tracked those two pieces of cake and I hate to admit that it was near 1000 calories.  Defeat and shame crawled over my body.  I looked up from my phone and hated every fiber of my being.  I knew I was better than that.  I knew I the courage to stand up and say not later but now.  I walked/jogged for 50 minutes.  I got off the treadmill and cursed out loud.  My body was covered in sweat and I loved it.  I took a starting picture and I weighed myself.  I am not proud of either one, but this is supposed to be a motivation for me to be healthy once more.  I am not looking to be the skinniest person in the bunch because quite frankly, I like having curves, but I am looking to not hate my reflection.  There are women on the internet that are super proud of their bodies regardless of the weight and I praise their strength.  I feel like a little kid who has just gotten praise from their parent from doing the right thing.  No one was making me get on that treadmill today.  No one was forcing me to enter my calories on the tracker.  I did it because I wanted to do it.  I wanted to see that better side of me.  I am going to post my pictures that I took today in hopes that it gives hope to anyone reading that needs it.  I am who I am and if I want to change, I have to start right now.
Starting weight: 330.