You are not ALONE

This is a reprint of an older Post. I was recently asked what was my favorite post and it was this one. I think because I started getting honest (with you and with me) about body & weight issues. But also because the comments were incredible - it reassured me, I was not alone.

Because my self-esteem is completely tied to the number of hits a day I get, I, sometimes, (many times) go to Sitemeter and check on who's looking and for how long. Sometimes, the thing that will crack me up is someone googling "Dirty, Naughty Girls" and then they find my blog.

CREEPY.

Today, I noticed a girl had googled a topic that lead her to this blog and I looked closer to see what the topic was and...

IT BROKE MY HEART.

Because she googled, "I AM TOO FAT, NO ONE WILL EVER LOVE ME." (Which led her to my entry, "Oh, My God, You're So Fat! Congratulations") I wanted to jump through the computer and fly through the internet and land in her bedroom, living room, library, coffee shop, dorm room, where ever and GIVE HER A BIG FAT HUG.

Then we would sit down and have a CUP CAKE (Red Velvet) and I would say, "You are not alone."

I have felt that way at this weight. I have felt that way, 20 pounds lighter than this AND I HAVE FELT THAT WAY, five years ago, AT MY HIGH SCHOOL WEIGHT, on a work retreat, wearing the cutest TANK-INI with cherry blossoms and abs and Renne Zellweger arms and still FELT THAT WAY.

I even felt that way, AT MY HIGH SCHOOL DANCE, at a perfect weight, though still wearing a girdle EVEN THOUGH I attended the dance with my sort-of-cousin AND OBVIOUSLY WAS NOT looking to get any. (Though I did feel a little heat as we uncomfortably slow danced to some Whitney Houston song.)

It makes me sad that I so COULDN'T SEE MYSELF, even at the most perfect weight, that I had to continue the FEMALE TORTURE of dieting, gaining, hating myself, RINSE, REPEAT.

So of course, I want to save someone who is going through that. DON'T BE ME. I could DIE admitting this. But remember, when my shrink told me, "YOU ARE NOT YOUR BODY?" And I was like, "Yes, I am! I am my Body. I am my Fat! Every problem I have is because of this! (Dramatically grab BACK FAT in defiance) I'm outta here!" Maybe she was right.

Maybe I HAD TO THINK, "I AM MY BODY... I AM MY WEIGHT, I DON'T DESERVE HAPPINESS UNTIL I'M THIN," MAYBE I had to think that, I had to believe it, because if I didn't and I wasn't obsessed WITH ALL THINGS DIET & WEIGHT LOSS... I would really have to LIVE.

AND THAT'S WHAT REALLY SCARES ME.

So I would say to this girl, "You Are Not Your Body" and "Don't Stop Living and Doing The Things You Love Because You Got A Little Junk In Your Trunk." Have fun, people with ample bosoms and stomachs and thighs deserve FUN. Write in your journal, stay ON TOP OF THOSE EMOTIONS. Get a Girl Gang like I have that you can talk to. GO TO THERAPY, it's AWESOME. But don't isolate, don't get under the covers, DON'T PUT off LIVING because of your WEIGHT. Because you are not your body.

You'll get there, just like me, just like all of us. Because YOU are not alone.


If you would like to repost this to your blog, please do! Just add a link to 100 Days In Bed. Feel free to Twitter or Facebook a link, I would love as many women to read this as possible. And of course, your comments, THEY ARE BETTER THAN A HOT FUDGE SUNDAE! So leave one!

You are not ALONE

Some Stuff About Me

I just did this questionaire for http://inspiredmess.blogspot.com and she's going to turn it into some kind of dazzling piece for her website.

Thank God because I haven't even had my second cup of coffee so Lord knows if it makes any sense. Yes, I know it's long. BUT I'M WORTH IT.

I just thought, if you're new, maybe I'd post it here, until her piece comes out.

1. Can you briefly share your story with us?

I'm a comedy writer living in LA who just thought she was living the dream. I had the most fabulous job in the world, literally, a dream job that you can't even imagine you'd ever have because you never could dream that big. I had a boyfriend, financial security (had just bought my first house) and my family was happy and healthy. And I was skinny too!

And then in a matter of months, it all went away. My boyfriend and I broke up, my cousin was murdered, I lost my job and had to move renters in my house and my Mom had a nervous breakdown. I got under the covers. Deep. I was so depressed... at this point, I wasn't even thinking about it ALL and how it ALL changed so fast. I was just deeply, deeply devastated at losing my cousin.

Two years later, I was still in the same place. No job, had gained a lot of weight. Depressed, isolating, feeling like a giant failure. If your job is to be funny but your life is the EXACT opposite of funny - it's going to be hard to be successful at it.

Plus, I didn't care. i didn't care about anything.

My cousin's second anniversary of death was coming around and I was just lost at sea. I started thinking about how he might see me. (I'm Catholic so yeah, I think about this stuff, like how he might literally see me from heaven.)

I thought he would not be proud of me that all I do is lay under the covers all day and be sad. I knew he would want a better life for me. To live a life that he had taken away. It also struck me that his brother and his father had made great strides in their grieving and I couldn't even get out of bed.

So that's why I started the blog. i saw it as a documentation of trying to piece my life back and maybe if someone was watching, I would have to be accountable and stick with it.

2. What made you want to start blogging? Have you always been a blogger?

So I think I answered this at the end of question 1, but please let me know if I can elaborate. I will say I have journaled since I was 12. Always writing down my thoughts and feelings. I feel like that was definitely a stepping stone with not only blogging but being okay with being REALLY real and raw and honest in my blogging because I just saw it as an extension of journaling.

But what also made me wanted to start blogging is because EVERY ONE in the world said I should read Eat Pray Love and that was going to magically transport me out of my depression. When I read it, I felt both thrilled and angered by it at the same time. I was happy for her, I was happy for whoever read it and was inspired by it. But for me, there was no way I could travel around the world for a year and a half and visit 3 countries as a way to find myself. I COULDN'T EVEN GET OUT OF BED. But I liked that she took action. So that nugget stayed with me, "Take action." Take action to get out of my depression. Okay, I'll do that.

3. How did you get the idea for the bowl of adventures?

The idea for the adventures came from, let's say six years ago. I was dating someone and the relationship was falling apart. Let me define that - I was still totally into him but he was calling the shots. Ladies, please note: if a guy doesn't want to spend time with you on the weekends, please take that as a cue that it's over.

Anyway, because my job was to be a funny writer lady and be upbeat, I could kind of hold it together all week and not really think about my disintegrating relationship. But on the weekends, I was just in the abyss, missing him, wondering what had gone wrong. Were we together, were we not?

I realized I was wasting away the person I used to be worrying about this relationship that obviously, was not bringing out the best qualities in me. So to make the weekends go by faster, I would read the LA Weekly which is a huge guide to what is going on that week in LA. i would rip out every single fun thing I wanted to do. An art gallery, a band, a wine tasting, this funky space where people made T-shirts while a DJ spinned.

It was a way to reclaim who I was and who I lost through this relationship. I used to keep all these ripped out articles in a bowl and then pull them out through the weekend. If I couldn't go to one, it would stay in the bowl to choose for another time. I started nick naming it "the adventure bowl" and there it was born.

4. What's your favorite adventure that you've been on so far?

I think pool crashing. See, every adventure is not just about the adventure but a larger thing. Pool crashing was about me stepping out of my regular self. The day I pool crashed, I was not just sweet and polite and obeying the rules. Or scared or taking no for an answer. I was daring and bold and persistent. I took something that seemed to be impossible - getting to a roof top pool at an exclusive hotel, on Memorial day, with security guards and wrist bands and a huge line and guest lists and still made it happen.

5. What's your scariest/most intimidating adventure that you've had to do so far?

I haven't had one yet but I recently put in ones like "Show up to the airport and get on a plane" or "get a nose ring." For both of those, I am trying to face something. Be more spontaneous, step out of conformity, remember who you were. So I think those will be intimidating and for the nose ring, I mean, come on, that's just going to hurt.

6. What's your favorite blog post that you've written? Which blog post has gotten the most reaction from your readers?

The biggest reaction might have been a post I wrote called "You Are Not Alone." I have a sitemeter hooked up to my blog where I can see how long people have read, what site brought them to me or what key words they searched to find me. I was looking at this one night and I saw a young girl's key words had been, "I AM SO FAT NO ONE WILL EVER LOVE ME."

I was devastated to read this and I wrote a post, not just to the readers but really directly to her about my whole life of weight obsessions and diets and being brutal to myself and how looking back now, I lost so much of my life to worrying and obsessing about weight. And all I wanted to do was save her from that. but also tell her she was not alone.

I encouraged her to love her body, get awesome friends, write in her journal, have fun, eat red velvet cup cakes but do not, do not lose your youth to obsessing about weight. And people REALLY responded to that. I was floored and really, really touched. Especially because I had never told any of my friends about my weight struggles and all of the garbage that goes through my head about weight and body image... and I knew that might read that. but I didn't care.

And I think readers really respond to honesty and realness.

7. What's the most significant way that your life has changed in the last two years?

A year ago I fell down a hill, maybe 60, 70 feet. My head hit a retaining wall and I was knocked unconscious. The woman who found me called 911 and thought I was dead. I broke a bone in my arm, dislocated my shoulder, needed staples in my head, stitches in my elbow, a year of physical therapy, surgery and sustained a head injury.

That's what brought me back to the blog. That and hearing my cousin had brain cancer. I had taken a year and a half off the blog and my life was heading back to a "get under the covers again" state. Then those things happened. I realized I needed the life line that the adventure bowl and blogging brought me the first time around.

So that is the biggest change for me. How do you live your life after you've faced your mortality? Do you ignore it because it scared you? Or do you live by the promise you made to yourself, to live the best life ever because it was almost taken away. It sounds like an obvious answer but I still struggle with it.

8. What inspires you?

Readers comments inspire me. They make me cry, think, laugh. When they say I inspire them, I lose my mind. Because it seems unreal that I was in such a desperate place not so long ago. What also inspires me is the reminder I keep getting that life is fragile and short and meant to be lived.

9. What five words would you use to describe yourself?'

1) unconventional 2) searcher 3) sensitive 4) funny, oh, my god, i hope funny 5) persistent ( or trying to be)

10. What would you say to somebody going thru one of life's trials right now?

"You can get to the other side." If someone is really depressed and reading that, it will be meaningless. That's how tight depression's grip can be. So I would say - go take a shower, then walk five minutes in the sunshine, then buy yourself some flowers. Did you do that? okay, now listen to me. "You can get to the other side." It is REALLY REALLY hard work but it beats the hell out of staying in bed or staying on the side lines of life.

Journal, wrote all your sad scary feelings down. You have to get the feelings out to ever replace the hole with good things and feelings. Can you get therapy? GO. I went. It feels good to surrender. To have someone listen. To say you are not alone. it's not always going to be like this. here are some baby steps you can make to make your life feel better.

Reach out. tell a friend. Depression is the biggest secret women are keeping from each other. Depression is like this dirty word that no one talks about but almost all are feeling at one time or another, either on a small scale or a huge scale. You are not alone.

11. What are you most looking forward to in the future?

To me, I have discovered, through my cousin's death, my accident, my mother's and cousin's illness - the secret to life is HAPPINESS. Now the happiness is the hard work - you have to keep working at it. So that's what I am most looking forward to - being happy, laughing. Letting go of stress and worry and fear and things that do not matter and do not serve me. Specifically, I would like to travel, spend more time with my family and if I could, spread this message around more to people who need it.

12. Do you have a favorite quote?

I don't have a favorite quote, per say, but I saw this one the other day and posted it on my blog: "Kiss your life. Accept it, just as it is. Today. Now.
So that those moments of happiness you’re waiting
for don’t pass you by."

You know what? That's pretty good, I think that is my favorite quote.

Some Stuff About Me

Look Who Lost 20 Pounds By Her Birthday

I'll write longer soon. Just wanted to check in and say I had the BEST birthday ever... the festivities started last Friday night and they continue tonight with dinner and drinks near by.

And the best gift?

When I stepped on the scale yesterday (the real birthday)... I couldn't believe I am now down 20 pounds.

I was kind of surprised as I haven't been the most rigorous with my program of late. Fried ravioli and wine anyone?

So... here's to hallelujahs, happy birthdays and half off jeans at Old Navy. I already need a new, smaller pair!

Look Who Lost 20 Pounds By Her Birthday

I Lost 15 Pounds :) Yay Me!

Yep, I did it. And I'm gonna do it again so I can get to 30 pounds lost.

I don't mean to brag but I rock, y'all.

The other day I was in a fancy meeting with all these big time people but since I'm a writer I like to dress super cas (as in casual) even though I'm usually so nervous I want to throw up or have diarrhea.

So anyway, I bust out THE JEANS. "The jeans" are the jeans in the next size down that didn't fit that I bought hoping they would one day fit, even though I swore I would stop buying jeans in next size down that would one day fit but do not fit right now.

But they were so cute!

Dark denim.

They were on sale for only twenty dollars!

C'mon. I can resist a donut but I cannot resist cute, dark denim on sale jeans for twenty dollars.

I try them on for my meeting. They will not zip. I lay on the bed, I lay on the floor. Nope, they ain't zipping.

Okay, I have a plan. I drive to the meeting with unzipped jeans on. During the twenty minute drive to the big fancy meeting, the jeans will probably stretch.

They will HAVE to stretch! Dear God, I hope they stretch.

I pull into the valet and he watches me curiously as I am jumping up and down and trying to zip my unzippable jeans.

I get them up on the third try! Yay! Now it's just the button that will not button. I can keep them unbuttoned but then it looks like I am smuggling something under my shirt. Not good. I bust a move for the ladies room.

It's there that I get the button of the jeans buttoned. Problem: I am now restricting blood flow from the top half of my body to the bottom half.

I decide it's totally worth it because I look good. Fifteen pounds lighter in a size smaller jean. AMEN!!!

I am sitting with the super important people and this is the part where you make small talk but all I can think about it how I am probably going to pass out and then they will have to call an ambulance and then a fireman will come and have to cut me out of these jeans.

I'm asked by one of the very important people, "So what's new with you?" I couldn't speak, I didn't know what to say... I couldn't think of anything funny, witty or charming when the only thing I could see is a swarm of executives watching me being cut out of my jeans and revealing the giant grannie panties I bought in a six pack at Target.

So I say: "Um... I went on a diet and lost fifteen pounds and thought I could wear the next size jeans down and basically I'm just sitting in these super tight jeans waiting to pass out and then have to be emergency air lifted out of here."

The whole room cracked up laughing.

I won them over. I did not die. I looked super cute for the whole hour. I was confident, composed, attentive.

And at the end of it, I smiled, I said my goodbyes and then I ran like hell to my car, unbuttoned my jeans in the parking garage and drove home.

If you like this post, send it to a bunch of friends by using the little envelope icon below. When you do, men will chase you down the street and invite you out for shrimp cocktails.


This blog is dedicated to just doing it.

I Lost 15 Pounds :)
Yay Me!

If I Haven't Seen You In A While, I Will Run And Hide Behind A Car

This POST was voted "Most Likely To Be Totally Worth The Read." And I have the sash that says so. I'm wearing it now while drinking my 7-11 coffee.

First of all, I LOVED all of your comments on the post about the Diet Devil.

I hate to be all message-y and when you read my post below, you will run screaming from the computer before you will ever take advice from me again - but (before you lose all respect for me) let me say this one thing - we are all too hard on ourselves.

If you have a bad day, if your Diet Devil has wrestled you to the ground after convincing you that Ben & Jerry's and Nachos make a sensible snack, just ya know, start over tomorrow.

Forgive and forget.

If I had done that over these past three years instead of just digging myself deeper and deeper into a situation where fat girl jeans were required, I'd be so much happier.

They say the longer you do something, the more it becomes a habit. I'm on day... 36 or 37 of stellar eating and I'm seeing stellar results. The more days of good, healthful, "broccoli tastes just like candy!" I can string together, the more it feels like a way of life and the less it feels like unbridled torture.

Now here's my story... the one I'm mortified to tell you. The one in which, I, of a voluminous butt and jiggly old lady underarms, ran behind a car so people I haven't seen in three years would not see me.

Yeah, I did that.

Because I wasn't wearing a t-shirt that said, "Hey, awkward. We haven't seen each other in three years and I look like I gained a second grader around my middle and I'm totally embarrassed but just so you know - this is a totally temporary situation. If you are coming around the corner, in like six months, watch out, 'cuz I'm just gonna be that hot. And by hot, I mean, I will posses thighs that do not rub together."

I looked for that t-shirt at The Gap but they were out of XL.

It happened tonight. I was coming home from the dog park and there was this couple I haven't seen in years and they were walking on my street and I just felt... um, uncomfortable in this bigger body. I know I'm all ra-ra and "Don't let your big butt get in the way of your big life" and then I go duck behind a car but...

Yeah, I did that.

I've had this thing drilled in my head from my family and yes, I know it's a bad thing and I know it's a wrong thing, but it's still a thing. And it's that being heavy is a sign of weakness. That you must be weak to let that happen. That I must be weak.

It's really hard to admit that is in me, that to a degree I believe that.

But there's another thing I believe and that is, that it makes you super strong to turn what seems like an impossible situation (a big weight gain and a butt made from donuts and margaritas) - a situation that would be so much easier to stay in, to wallow in and to make worse (pound by pound) - it makes you super strong if you try and change that situation.

That's what I'm doing now. On the treadmill or putting spinach in my egg whites or not eating after 7pm or saying no to yummy dark beer and yes to apples instead of chips or ordering black coffee instead of lattes.

And even when it's felt like the results are agonizingly slow and even though I sometimes stop and beat myself up about why I would ever put myself in this situation, I think, "At least I'm doing it. At least, I finally took control and I'm doing it."

Then I breathe a sigh of frickin' relief. Two pounds lost has become six and then ten and then twelve (and a half... don't forget the halves, they add up.)

So, I'll try to not beat myself up, I will shut the brain door on thinking I'm weak and I will really, really try and stop ducking behind cars at night when I see people I'm not ready to see.

Because strong people know what they're doing and don't care what other people think.


This blog is dedicated to Jeeps with their wide ends for hiding behind.

If I Haven't Seen You In A While, I Will Run And Hide Behind A Car

My Inner Diet Devil Thinks Cookies And Ice Cream Would Make A Great Breakfast

Do you have an inner Diet Devil?

It's that voice inside your head as you're preparing a "good girl" meal of grilled chicken and steamed broccoli that starts off with a quiet whisper and then starts screaming:

"I WANT FRENCH FRIES NOW! And while you're at it, get a Big Mac to go with those fries. Ooooo, we need dessert, too! Bring pie!"

Yeah, that guy. I hate that guy. He's trying to sabotage me and won't be happy until I spend the rest of my life in pants that only close with draw strings and "Free Size" shirts.

And that's not a way to live, ladies!

Here's the deal. This whole blog has been about taking back my life from, um, well, the brink of "almost-disaster." Now work is good, finances are decent, friendships are repaired, new therapist is found, healing over the loss of my cousin/job/boyfriend has begun...

But I still have "big ol' fat depression butt."

So last month, I got serious. I started making a healthy breakfast. At breakfast, I planned lunch, at lunch I planned dinner. When things got so stressful and planning seemed to go out the window - I had a Backup-plan Plan. Defrost a frozen vegetable and dump a Lean Cuisine over it.

Lean Cuisine has, like, totally saved my life.

Every meal is paired with a huge serving of fruit or a veggie. The more full I am, the less I'm inclined to fantasize about shoplifting a bag of Ruffles potato chips from the 7-11 so the cashier won't judge me.

In 30 days, I lost 11 pounds.

Oh, did I mention exercise? Because that's a big part of it, though I have started off slow, just going to the gym 3 times a week for ONLY 45 minutes. I cap the "only" because I am stressing the point that I am trying to make this as easy on myself as possible so I won't find excuses not to do it.

But that's really when the Diet Devil is whispering in my ear. He knows that exercise is going to be the biggest piece of my weight loss pie (Mmmmmm, pie).

And he doesn't want me to go! He wants me to stay right here, chit-chatting on the internet or watching "Oprah."

Diet Devil: "Don't work out. Stay home, lie on the couch. Go ahead, put your feet up, you deserve it. Oprah is on. She's going to teach you how to be a better person. Isn't that going to benefit you more in the long run over riding some silly treadmill?"

Me: (small voice) "Um... I don't know."

So I started this post on Wednesday with the hopes that I would have a fantastic update about how I wrestled my Diet Devil and came out victorious with a trip to the gym. But it didn't happen. I talked myself out of going and then I let that be okay.

Not cool.

So today, Thursday, which isn't a gym day for me, I got my butt over to the gym and did what I needed to do. I don't want to fail myself. I have an uphill battle but the goal of 45 minutes 3 times a week is so small for what it gives back to me - it's physically, mentally and emotionally rewarding.

And if it'll make my jeans looser in the process - all the better!

The thing I have to remember is - it's just the getting there that's hard. Once I'm there, I really have to push myself to leave. I love the sweating and I love the feeling of getting stronger.

But mostly, I love setting out to do something and following through.

So what gets you to keep a promise to yourself? What do you do when you want to talk yourself out of going to the gym or eating right? I'd love to know. Then I can use it to beat that lil' Diet Devil off my shoulder the next time he's trying to keep me from going to the gym :)


This blog is dedicated to 8 pound weights.

My Inner Diet Devil Thinks Cookies And Ice Cream Would Make A Great Breakfast

The Weight of Weight Part 2

This is a long post. I thought about dividing it up for my short attention span lovelies. But it needs to be all together - if you've ever struggled with your weight, this post will mean a lot to you. I promise you, IT'S THAT WORTH IT. And I didn't even write it… so it's not like I'm bragging.

Two entries ago, I talked about how I am sick and tired of having a double bubble butt, cankles, muffin top and the fact that Angelia Jolie, pregnant with twins, has a lower BMI than me.

But now I want to change and take off the sad fat suit that I put on in the throws of grief. So two entries ago, I wrote Melanie, one of our awesome-est readers and a therapist, a letter hoping she shine a light on what I can do to get back to me (the skinny, fit, boys-look-at-me me.) Reading that post is a good idea before plunging into the rest of this post.

Melanie's reply starts here:
Man, do I just want to sock your dad for asking such a question! His question about you being "normal" (meaning "thinner") by summer just PISSES ME OFF. I'm sure your Dad is a fabulous person.. but seriously?! You ARE normal. The weight doesn't change WHO you are. It just shows us how you feel.

Back to your question - I think there's little doubt that this is emotional weight. These pounds (which we all struggle with - myself included) are our own defense system against whatever pain has hurt us so deep.

Loss. Grief. Shame. Loneliness. Embarrassment.

There's an enormous list of uncomfortable feelings that lead to emotional eating. Some of us learn to emotionally eat from a family member (I should thank my own Mother here..) or just find a food that finally makes us feel satisfied.

Well.. at least temporarily satisfied.

We're lucky we didn't turn to harder drugs.. and we're lucky that this way of coping is reversible.

We're damned because you can't totally avoid food. You NEED to eat. Food can be devastatingly luring. "Filling" in more ways than one. Chocolate cupcakes as band-aids. Lemon tarts instead of emotional well-being. Dive into a pit of pudding - you'll feel amazing!

Unfortunately.. you'll never find love, happiness, or self-esteem at the bottom of a plate. Nor will any food taste more amazing than self-esteem feels. We know this stuff. Plump ladies are THE MOST WELL-READ POPULATION on weight-loss.

We know it ALL.

Your brain knows one thing, and your belly knows another. You DO have a brain in your belly. Your enteric brain - found in your gut. This brain controls your eating, that nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach, and the butterflies that appear when your crush enters the room. Having a "nervous stomach" means you're familiar with this second brain. The belly-brain that argues with your above-your-neck brain. ...and your Belly Brain has never read a weight-loss or self-help book.

Guess which brain Loss and Grief mess around with?

I hope you said "both".

So there's David's death... family issues... boyfriend issues.. job issues.. etc. There are probably even things we don't know about yet. We DO know that your family isn't the best at teaching healthy emotional expression. It sounds like you're very afraid to speak up over there. Speaking out is scary - so we start speaking IN. Things go IN. Emotions turn inward, and we stuff them down out of habit - and with a NY-style cheesecake. All the pain, we keep it in. Ever wonder why you curl up on the fetal position? You're brining it in. Trading the gym for your bed? Bringing that pain and frustration inward.

Eventually this bad habit backfires. Inward turns outward. Jeans that will no longer button. Shirts that you tug down over a belly, and avoiding mirrors. Now we're feeling bad about inward AND outward things. There's no safe hiding place anymore.. and we start falling apart. We hold onto old habits, and read self-help books. We hide under the covers... with the box of Oreos. Screw the gym. We're headed inward and outward.

Eventually we're PUNISHING ourselves.

We say mean things when looking in the mirror.. when trying on clothes in a dressing room.. when doing laundry - because now the jeans fit tighter. We hide from the gym, because we don't want to subject the skinny people to our wobbling blubber on an elliptical machine. We just bash the HELL outta ourselves in a way we'd never allow anyone else to do. We are by far the meanest people in our lives. Our brain suffers... and our belly-brain goes haywire.

I know this answer has been hella-long.. and I'm afraid to say that there's MORE.. but I think the first step - the VERY first step - is to forgive. YOURSELF.

There's no need to further punish yourself for the things David can no longer enjoy. There's no need to punish yourself for your family's chaos, for the ex-boyfriend, for the loss of the job. That stuff cannot be changed by any amount of self-punishing. It just IS. Accept, and forgive.

Now look at yourself naked.

Oh I mean it.

Go do it... or I'll kick your ass. Find a mirror where you can see ALL of you.

WHEN you do this (because you WILL do this) - you need recognize all of those mean thoughts that you rattle off almost unconsciously when you see your image. Hear them ALL. Hear what you do to yourself. That'll be the easy part.

The tough part is next: Now you have to see that the weight is pain. It's not "bad person pounds". It's not deserved punishment. It's your pain -on the outside.

Now.. what do you do with pain? Physical pain is easy.. but this emotional shithole pain is much more difficult. The first thing that you should do is stop treating yourself like crap. That's not helping ANYONE. In fact, it's encouraging other people to treat you like crap too. Look, you won't even take your aching muscles to the gym anymore.

So today.. after you confront yourself in the mirror.. you're going to start treating yourself like you'd treat yourself if you were thin. You are no longer permitted to beat yourself up based on weight. Give yourself every benefit, compliment, and happy thought that you think the thin version of you deserves. Be kind, be considerate, be forgiving, and be accepting.

There's NO DIFFERENCE between you as a thin person or a plump person. You're the same person!!!! There's no sense in saying "Well, I'll do that when I'm thin." "I'll treat myself to blah blah blah when I'm thin." Treat yourself well NOW. Treat your butt to new workout pants, and hit that gym with the vigor you had before, when you wanted an awesome body to match an awesome life.

Start there. See what happens. and I swear.. GET IN FRONT OF THAT MIRROR. You cannot confront what you cannot acknowledge.

Let me know how it goes.

-Melanie

That blew me away to the point that there are no words... But I will find them. My next post will be about taking Melanie's advice. I hope you do, too. DON'T MAKE ME BE THE ONLY ONE GETTING NAKED IN FRONT OF THAT MIRROR, 'kay? We're all in this together.

P.S. Melanie's awesome blog is http://melaniementioned.blogspot.com

A disclaimer about this post from Melanie:
“My reply to Adventure Girl's letter is NOT a therapy session. You'll be able to tell by the tone of my reply. While being a therapist is my day-job, it's left at my office door. I am not her therapist. I am someone who has been drawn in as I read her posts. My advice is given as a friend, who doesn't have the same story, but enough of the same plot lines and characters to understand. No one told us life would be easy. :)”

This blog is dedicated to being fearless.

The Weight of Weight
Part 2

The Weight of Weight Part One

Let me break it down for you. I don't want to be a chunky monkey anymore. I WANT TO BE SIZE 8 AGAIN. I'll even take a size 12. I feel awful in my body right now and it stinks to go shopping and see summer dresses taunting me with their cute cuts and colors.

(Yes, I could buy one but if someone asks me when I'm "due", I WILL RUN INTO HEAVY ONCOMING TRAFFIC.)

So there's this girl named Melanie and she always gives THE BEST advice here on my sight. What I like about her is that she is a therapist but she talks to me in a way that wouldn't work with a regular patient because... um, I think it's against the law. Okay, I'm kidding. In therapy, I think the patient is always supposed to come to their own realization. But I don't want to come to my own realizations. That takes FOREVER!

When I read one of Melanie's comments it's always so REAL, DEAD ON - the way a girl friend would talk to you if there was no fear that you would never speak to her again. For instance, after I blogged about "Margarita Emailing" my ex, it's like she whizzed though my DSL line, came through the computer and hit me over the head with a frying pan.

She forbid me to contact him again, told me I was living in the past so I didn't have to face the future and threatened me with boldily harm if I did it again. AND I LISTENED!

Anyway, I have been struggling with weight issues ever since my cousin died. I haven't been eating right and I never work out. I'm the opposite of me.

I want to delve into these issues because of cute summer dresses and I just don't want to live this way anymore. So I asked Melanie if I wrote her a letter about this issue would she take some of what she has learned in her work and write me a "hard ass, tough love" response, unlike what I would get from my own therapist.

So here's the letter. In a day or two, I'll post her response.

Dear Melanie,

This is really embarrassing to admit but I have gained a lot of weight since my cousin passed away two years ago. I've gained, like a third grader... (do third graders weigh 40 - 45 pounds?) Maybe it's a second grader.

The thing is I know how to lose weight, eat less, move more. Put down the beer and bread and eat your veggies and lean proteins! The thing is, I just can't seem to want to do that or go to the gym. I used to be a gym hound. Five years ago, I was working a terrible job with a ton of stress and was at an all time high weight. Then I found my dream job and I wanted a dream life to match. I was in the gym five days a week, ate healthy and lost 60 pounds.

I never felt better in my life. But two years ago, after David was murdered, I was so depressed and I just didn't care what I ate or how much time in bed I spent. It didn't help that I also broke up with my boyfriend and lost my job.

I'm really feeling so much better and positive lately but I wonder - why can't I get back on my program again and get rid of this FAT ASS. I really feel like it's holding me back. I don't love going out or seeing people I haven't seen in a while.

I do wonder if holding onto the fat is so I don't have to move on. The idea of dating again kinda freaks me out, I wonder if the weight makes me feel safe from getting hurt again (okay, tearing up, that must be it).

I'm just in a rut and where I make everything else a priority, this, I totally push aside. Weight has always been something that my parents have been fixated on. My parents know I gained weight as a response of all the changes on my life but my Dad did ask, "Now that you feel better, will you be normal by the summer?" (Okay, tearing up again) I wonder if there is also some anger there and just wanting to be accepted for me.

Either way, the weight I am carrying is just not healthy, holding me back and making me uncomfortable.

Any advice?


This post is dedicated to pen pals.

The Weight of Weight
Part One

YOU are not ALONE

Because my self-esteem is completely tied to the number of hits a day I get, I, sometimes, (many times) go to Sitemeter and check on who's looking and for how long. Sometimes, the thing that will crack me up is someone googling "Dirty, Naughty Girls" and then they find my blog.

CREEPY.

Today, I noticed a girl had googled a topic that lead her to this blog and I looked closer to see what the topic was and...

IT BROKE MY HEART.

Because she googled, "I AM TOO FAT, NO ONE WILL EVER LOVE ME." (Which led her to my entry, "Oh, My God, You're So Fat! Congratulations") I wanted to jump through the computer and fly through the internet and land in her bedroom, living room, library, coffee shop, dorm room, where ever and GIVE HER A BIG FAT HUG.

Then we would sit down and have a CUP CAKE (Red Velvet) and I would say, "You are not alone."

I have felt that way at this weight. I have felt that way, 20 pounds lighter than this AND I HAVE FELT THAT WAY, five years ago, AT MY HIGH SCHOOL WEIGHT, on a work retreat, wearing the cutest TANK-INI with cherry blossoms and abs and Renne Zellweger arms and still FELT THAT WAY.

I even felt that way, AT MY HIGH SCHOOL DANCE, at a perfect weight, though still wearing a girdle EVEN THOUGH I attended the dance with my sort-of-cousin AND OBVIOUSLY WAS NOT looking to get any. (Though I did feel a little heat as we uncomfortably slow danced to some Whitney Houston song.)

It makes me sad that I so COULDN'T SEE MYSELF, even at the most perfect weight, that I had to continue the FEMALE TORTURE of dieting, gaining, hating myself, RINSE, REPEAT.

So of course, I want to save someone who is going through that. DON'T BE ME. I could DIE admitting this. But remember, when my shrink told me, "YOU ARE NOT YOUR BODY?" And I was like, "Yes, I am! I am my Body. I am my Fat! Every problem I have is because of this! (Dramatically grab BACK FAT in defiance) I'm outta here!" Maybe she was right.

Maybe I HAD TO THINK, "I AM MY BODY... I AM MY WEIGHT, I DON'T DESERVE HAPPINESS UNTIL I'M THIN," MAYBE I had to think that, I had to believe it, because if I didn't and I wasn't obsessed WITH ALL THINGS DIET & WEIGHT LOSS... I would really have to LIVE.

AND THAT'S WHAT REALLY SCARES ME.

So I would say to this girl, "You Are Not Your Body" and "Don't Stop Living and Doing The Things You Love Because You Got A Little Junk In Your Trunk." Have fun, people with ample bosoms and stomachs and thighs deserve FUN. Write in your journal, stay ON TOP OF THOSE EMOTIONS. Get a Girl Gang like I have that you can talk to. GO TO THERAPY, it's AWESOME. But don't isolate, don't get under the covers, DON'T PUT off LIVING because of your WEIGHT. Because you are not your body.

You'll get there, just like me, just like all of us. Because YOU are not alone.

YOU are not ALONE

Oh, My God! You're So Fat! Congratulations!

I wish someone said that to me. I mean, of course, I would go running into the next room and probably burst into tears and then need to eat three candy bars and a Xanax to feel better. But I wish someone said that to me. Four or five years ago, I lost a lot of weight, maybe sixty pounds. People would see me and exclaim, "Oh, my God, you got so skinny." "Look, at you, you're like half a person." (Really?) My point is, when someone loses weight, everyone has something to say about it. But when we gain it, we just get the "quick up and down" glance and a tight smile.

Two years ago, my cousin passed away... then I lost my job... oh, and my boyfriend and I broke up, then my Mom got sick. I didn't so much start eating everything in sight as I took to my bed and I just stopped moving. Except FOR MY ASS, that was moving, GETTING BIGGER EVERY DAY. But no one said anything. I guess it's not really polite to say, "What's that noise? Oh, it's your thighs rubbing together!" But I wish it was... I mean, I'm a sensitive gal and I would never want to hurt a friend's feelings but if I see one of my friend's ass spread like mine did, or if I start to notice she only has one outfit and it's sweatpants (AND REMEMBER, SWEAT PANTS ARE NOT YOUR FRIEND), I'm going to say something. I'm going ask if they are okay.

I'm going to have my pockets stuffed with Hershey kisses and Xanax and approach that tough conversation, "I couldn't help but notice, that you have a double chin and a muffin top is dangerously peeking over your pants, wanna talk?" Because sometimes fat is a sign of something bigger... of someone who can't express they need a helping hand. So be that hand, all you can do is get yelled at. But I would rather be yelled at than thinking one of my friends was suffering and I didn't even approach them with Xanax and candy and a ear to listen.

Oh, My God! You're So Fat! Congratulations!