Wow! I can't believe how long it has been since I posted my first blog post. I also can't believe that I didn't follow up with any more posts.
Since my weight will be a topic below, at the time of the first post, I was probably around 130 pounds, and wearing a size 4. I was previously 189 pounds, and had lost this weight after my divorce, without actually trying. I'm sure that not having much money had a lot to do with what I ate, and didn't eat.
Fast forward a few years...
I'm in a wonderful relationship with the "friend" that I referred to in the first post. I am so happy in that aspect of my life, and have been happy for over five (5) years. This relationship has been one of the best things that has happened to me, other than my children, and I have been happier than I can ever remember being. Aside from my relationship, other areas of my life brought unhappiness, despair and depression.
I moved from a not-so-good job, to go to what was supposed to be a better place to work, and it turned out that it was a place with really horrible people. They were mean, and back-stabbing. I managed to stay there almost 2 years because I needed the salary and the insurance. I was just waiting for something better to come along. It got so bad, that every Sunday afternoon, I went into a deep depression because I knew that I had to go back to work the next day. I'm not a mean person, but it was hard to not be mean to these people. The weight started coming back on.
Finally, a better situation came along. I was hired at a company that I had wanted to work at for years. It had the best reputation, and employees very rarely left there. At first it was great. I began to feel better. Then, the owner had a stroke, and the management of the company went straight to hell in a hand basket. It was a fairly big office, so there was always whispering and backstabbing. The workload became overwhelming for everyone, and even though another person was needed, we were always just told that "we always do what it takes to get the job done." What it took to get the job done was me working most of the time 10 hours per day, and sometimes longer. I sometimes went in on weekends for a few hours. The amount of stress was unreal. The job was more than demanding. Everyone needed everything "NOW", and if you didn't get what they wanted to them, within a few minutes, the bosses were emailed, and they were at your desk wanting to know why it had not been done. There was no way to prioritize, as everything was an emergency. I would make To-Do lists, and for every item I crossed off, more things were added. There was no way to ever catch up. The only time I left my desk was to walk to the copier, not too far from my desk. Going out to lunch was out of the question. For the most part, going to the restroom was out of the question, and there would be days that I would get to the end of the day and realize that I had not gone to the restroom one time.
Eating was another issue. Occasionally I could take time to heat up a frozen dinner and choke it down at my desk. Sometimes they would order us lunch, and sometimes someone would pick us up McDonalds. There was always junk food and candy at the office, and of course, soft drinks. Food was pretty much swallowed whole. The amount of candy I consumed was high. It was very easy to eat most of a huge bag of m&m's before I noticed that I had eaten that much. When I got home, I didn't want to do anything but sit and watch television, or just go to bed. I was more sedentary than I had ever been (although I have never truly been "in shape".)
Along with the stress, came horrible eating habits, and some health issues, starting with weight gain. I had been off of my blood pressure medication, but shortly after working there, I had to go to the ER with extremely high blood pressure, and was put back on medication. I started having anxiety issues and began to take Xanax on most days, just to get through them without a panic attack. As time went on, some of the people became miserable to be around, and were always "tattling" and backstabbing and getting others in trouble. Of course, the Office Manager (I call her that because it was her title, and not because she deserved respect) had different rules for each person, and no matter what, every problem in the office became my fault because she didn't like me. I was called to her office often (like going to the principal's office), and it became so frequent that my first thought was always "What the F**K did I do, now?" The nightly and Sunday afternoon depression was back. I had packed on 60 pounds, and I was seriously worried that I would have a stroke or heart attack at my desk. I stayed there out of loyalty to my direct boss, as she had become a friend. I was underpaid, and I only stayed because I would have felt guilty to leave. Of course, it got to the point that I just couldn't take it anymore.
By the grace of God, a terrific opportunity fell into my lap, and I landed a great job with wonderful people. It's a small office. Everyone helps everyone, and even the most stressful day here has probably a miniscule amount of the stress I lived through every day at my previous job. The food flowed freely at this office, too. I started feeling better. I no longer was having anxiety attacks. I no longer have to take Xanax to just get through the day.
So, now I was happy with my relationship and my job, and it was time to fix other issues.
I was fat. I hated myself. I hated to see myself in the mirror. I had little to no self-esteem. My boyfriend told me constantly that I was beautiful and I was too hard on myself. I was hard on myself. I hated myself and what I had become.
Right after New Years Day of this year, I saw a Weight Watchers commercial with Oprah. A thought entered my mind that I should try it. In the back of my mind was the fact that I had never stuck with anything in my whole life. I have very rarely accomplished goals. I knew a couple of people who were on the program, and I messaged them to see what they thought, and I immediately signed up. Some of my friends signed up with me.
That was almost three (3) months ago. I have followed the plan and had very few issues. There have been a few tears when I wouldn't let myself have something I wanted, or I was out of points and hungry. I was, and still am, very strict with myself about my points and following the program to the letter. I have been successful. I have lost approximately twenty (20) pounds, and I am down a couple of sizes in my clothes. I am beginning to like myself again. I am exercising. I am eating well, and I am seeing so many positive changes in myself, aside from the physical changes. Of course, I am happier with my appearance, but I am so proud of myself for making goals and striving to achieve them. My self-esteem is coming back. I am learning to love myself again. I am happy in all areas of my life for the first time in a long time. I feel good. I feel like my health is improving. I am making exercising a habit, and am slowly but surely getting in shape.
I try to help and inspire my friends. I am making more friends throughout my journey, and have built a great support system. I want to be an inspiration to anyone that is going through this journey, and may be struggling with it.
So, that's where I am today. If anyone reads this, I hope that they will see that they are not alone, and that this journey heals more than just weight issues. It heals the mind, body and soul.
Since my weight will be a topic below, at the time of the first post, I was probably around 130 pounds, and wearing a size 4. I was previously 189 pounds, and had lost this weight after my divorce, without actually trying. I'm sure that not having much money had a lot to do with what I ate, and didn't eat.
Fast forward a few years...
I'm in a wonderful relationship with the "friend" that I referred to in the first post. I am so happy in that aspect of my life, and have been happy for over five (5) years. This relationship has been one of the best things that has happened to me, other than my children, and I have been happier than I can ever remember being. Aside from my relationship, other areas of my life brought unhappiness, despair and depression.
I moved from a not-so-good job, to go to what was supposed to be a better place to work, and it turned out that it was a place with really horrible people. They were mean, and back-stabbing. I managed to stay there almost 2 years because I needed the salary and the insurance. I was just waiting for something better to come along. It got so bad, that every Sunday afternoon, I went into a deep depression because I knew that I had to go back to work the next day. I'm not a mean person, but it was hard to not be mean to these people. The weight started coming back on.
Finally, a better situation came along. I was hired at a company that I had wanted to work at for years. It had the best reputation, and employees very rarely left there. At first it was great. I began to feel better. Then, the owner had a stroke, and the management of the company went straight to hell in a hand basket. It was a fairly big office, so there was always whispering and backstabbing. The workload became overwhelming for everyone, and even though another person was needed, we were always just told that "we always do what it takes to get the job done." What it took to get the job done was me working most of the time 10 hours per day, and sometimes longer. I sometimes went in on weekends for a few hours. The amount of stress was unreal. The job was more than demanding. Everyone needed everything "NOW", and if you didn't get what they wanted to them, within a few minutes, the bosses were emailed, and they were at your desk wanting to know why it had not been done. There was no way to prioritize, as everything was an emergency. I would make To-Do lists, and for every item I crossed off, more things were added. There was no way to ever catch up. The only time I left my desk was to walk to the copier, not too far from my desk. Going out to lunch was out of the question. For the most part, going to the restroom was out of the question, and there would be days that I would get to the end of the day and realize that I had not gone to the restroom one time.
Eating was another issue. Occasionally I could take time to heat up a frozen dinner and choke it down at my desk. Sometimes they would order us lunch, and sometimes someone would pick us up McDonalds. There was always junk food and candy at the office, and of course, soft drinks. Food was pretty much swallowed whole. The amount of candy I consumed was high. It was very easy to eat most of a huge bag of m&m's before I noticed that I had eaten that much. When I got home, I didn't want to do anything but sit and watch television, or just go to bed. I was more sedentary than I had ever been (although I have never truly been "in shape".)
Along with the stress, came horrible eating habits, and some health issues, starting with weight gain. I had been off of my blood pressure medication, but shortly after working there, I had to go to the ER with extremely high blood pressure, and was put back on medication. I started having anxiety issues and began to take Xanax on most days, just to get through them without a panic attack. As time went on, some of the people became miserable to be around, and were always "tattling" and backstabbing and getting others in trouble. Of course, the Office Manager (I call her that because it was her title, and not because she deserved respect) had different rules for each person, and no matter what, every problem in the office became my fault because she didn't like me. I was called to her office often (like going to the principal's office), and it became so frequent that my first thought was always "What the F**K did I do, now?" The nightly and Sunday afternoon depression was back. I had packed on 60 pounds, and I was seriously worried that I would have a stroke or heart attack at my desk. I stayed there out of loyalty to my direct boss, as she had become a friend. I was underpaid, and I only stayed because I would have felt guilty to leave. Of course, it got to the point that I just couldn't take it anymore.
By the grace of God, a terrific opportunity fell into my lap, and I landed a great job with wonderful people. It's a small office. Everyone helps everyone, and even the most stressful day here has probably a miniscule amount of the stress I lived through every day at my previous job. The food flowed freely at this office, too. I started feeling better. I no longer was having anxiety attacks. I no longer have to take Xanax to just get through the day.
So, now I was happy with my relationship and my job, and it was time to fix other issues.
I was fat. I hated myself. I hated to see myself in the mirror. I had little to no self-esteem. My boyfriend told me constantly that I was beautiful and I was too hard on myself. I was hard on myself. I hated myself and what I had become.
Right after New Years Day of this year, I saw a Weight Watchers commercial with Oprah. A thought entered my mind that I should try it. In the back of my mind was the fact that I had never stuck with anything in my whole life. I have very rarely accomplished goals. I knew a couple of people who were on the program, and I messaged them to see what they thought, and I immediately signed up. Some of my friends signed up with me.
That was almost three (3) months ago. I have followed the plan and had very few issues. There have been a few tears when I wouldn't let myself have something I wanted, or I was out of points and hungry. I was, and still am, very strict with myself about my points and following the program to the letter. I have been successful. I have lost approximately twenty (20) pounds, and I am down a couple of sizes in my clothes. I am beginning to like myself again. I am exercising. I am eating well, and I am seeing so many positive changes in myself, aside from the physical changes. Of course, I am happier with my appearance, but I am so proud of myself for making goals and striving to achieve them. My self-esteem is coming back. I am learning to love myself again. I am happy in all areas of my life for the first time in a long time. I feel good. I feel like my health is improving. I am making exercising a habit, and am slowly but surely getting in shape.
I try to help and inspire my friends. I am making more friends throughout my journey, and have built a great support system. I want to be an inspiration to anyone that is going through this journey, and may be struggling with it.
So, that's where I am today. If anyone reads this, I hope that they will see that they are not alone, and that this journey heals more than just weight issues. It heals the mind, body and soul.
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