Suffocation

*Please note, this blog contains a picture that you may or may not really want/care to see.  So I figured I’d warn you now.  It’s about half of the way in to my post.  And the picture offends anyone, I apologize.  But it’s reality.  My reality.* 

I really miss wearing jeans.  I still wear them, but it’s truly a love/hate relationship as nothing says “love” quite like a button making a clear indentation into your “flub”.  Speaking of which, although my “below the belly button flub” will be sucked in post zip, all it does is push it up and make my “above the belly button flub” stick out even more.  I hate it.  I truly do.  Please tell me somebody understands what kind of torture I’m speaking of!  Sometimes I try to put jean-wearing in to perspective: “Heather, you could be forced to wear a pleated skirt right now, which would undoubtedly give you chub rub on your inner thighs” or “Remember Heather, you could be wearing nothing at all right now!”  But then again, even perspective and a whole lot of spandex waists can only take you so far.  I miss wearing jeans. 

Recently I stopped by to visit one of my good friend’s, Lane Bryant.  The ONLY thing I was in there for were jeans, so I headed straight for the overpriced denim section in hopes of finding something to fit my "flabulous" needs.  I wasn’t very optimistic, but I grabbed a few pairs and found my way to the fitting room.  Now ladies (and if you’re a frequent shopper of LB, you may be able to relate to this), what in the heck is the deal with their color coding for jeans?  They’ve had it for some time, and I’m just gonna keep it real …. NONE of the colors work for my body!  Blues are an absolute no-no as I’m not super curvaceous.  Reds fit fine at first, until an hour or two in to wearing them and suddenly it appears I have a large dump in my pants (major sag factor).  And the yellows?  HA!  Realistically, that probably should be my color-coded jean of choice, however putting them on is like putting on leggings …… made of no spandex or elastic.  Complete joke.  But I digress …. So I’m trying on these jeans, color-coded by Rainbow Brite, and NONE of them worked.  It wasn’t even that I couldn’t fit in to any of them, it was just that they made me feel absolutely positively wretched.  I had those jeans on for less than a minute and it felt like a century – a century of feeling absolutely worthless.  When I had those jeans on, I can honestly say I hated myself.  How could an inanimate object such as jeans give so much life to the emotions I feel towards myself and my worth?  Simple.  It just did.  Any of the good I’ve done in the past, in that moment, was out the window.  All I could focus mentally on was how absolutely horribly disgusting I felt physically with all of my pathetic, deplorable fat pushed up, making me feel as though I was suffocating in my own obesity.  I am suffocating.

I will admit, sometimes when I try something on in the dressing room, even though I’m disgusted with myself when things don’t fit or look right due to my size, I will stand there and look at myself in the mirror for a few moments.  I’m not admiring anything but possibly, subconsciously, trying to place that image in my mind of what I loathe, the look of discomfort and/or suffocation.  This time, however, I surprised even myself.  I went in to my purse, grabbed my phone, and opened it up to the camera.  And from there, I took this pic:

 Some of you may have glanced at that pic and saw yourselves.  You may have even suddenly felt suffocated.  And then again, some of you maybe have looked and seen nothing but a fat girl to feel sorry for.  But there is no reason to feel sorry for that which you don’t understand.  You see, although I will never claim to know what it’s like to walk in the shoes of another, please never tell me you know what it’s like to walk in mine in order to be sympathetic to my “issues.”  It’s ok to not understand.  You see, I’m fat.  And I’ve been fighting this demon for years.  Some years I’m used to it, and some years I’m sick of it.  Last year I decided to stand up to it, and so far this year I’ve felt afraid of it.  But never assume you know what this feels like unless you’ve truly been “there” (wherever “there” is).  Some people feel they’ve all the answers.  But if answers came that easily, that picture wouldn’t exist.  “Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels!”  That’s a crock.  Because if all you know of is how good a piece of chocolate cake with buttercream frosting tastes, because you’ve never “tasted” skinny, then you’re gonna go with what you know, right?

What do I do with this picture; I’m still trying to figure that out.  What compelled me to share it?  I don't exactly know because coming from the girl with an extensive BLACK wardrobe, this is something way out of my element.  Maybe I wanted to make myself vulnerable  so that some of you could have a glimpse of my reality.  Perhaps someone out there might be feeling something similar in their own lives and, after seeing my reality, might not feel so alone.  One of my biggest fears in life is to drown.  Yet, what I'm not even realizing is that for so long over many, many years .... I've been drowning myself.  I pray that this picture can act as a daily reminder of those exact feelings of disgust that I felt while trying those jeans on.  It's time to come up for air.                      

Excuse me, please .... I'm in the way.

It’s been a while since I’ve put fingers to keyboard with the purpose of “organizing” my mind’s ponderings.  For so long now, I’ve been telling myself repeatedly “I need to make something of my thoughts, and this blog!”  But, just as easy as I come across those words do I find myself putting it off because I think I don’t know what to say or what order to say them in.  Sounds similar to my journey towards better health.  Well, here goes nothing.

I thank the middle school girls’ volleyball team that I coach at the school where I teach for tonight’s topic: Motivation.  As teachers, we sometimes think our students never listen to a word we say (exceptions to the rule: recess, lunch, treat, no homework, time to go home, do I need to call your parent(s)).  Well, maybe we’re sometimes wrong.  In the midst of our last pep-talk before we took the court, as I’m sharing some of my profoundly wise words that are sure to guide my team on to victory, one of the 6^th grade girls pipes up and says “This is kind of like that one writing assignment we had today.”  Now, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t give her this look of bewilderment with “and this has to do with volleyball how?” on the tip of my tongue.  But, I let her keep explaining – “Do you remember what we needed to write about?  What motivates us.  That’s just it – we need to think about that now.  What motivates you?”  As a teacher, I was proud of her application (and her ability to recall “what did you do in school today?”) of that assignment to real life.  As a coach, it fueled a valid point for her teammates that ended up being our driving question throughout the match (that we won, by the way).  As a human being with struggles of my own, it gave me thought.  What motivates ME? 

What motivated me for so long when I began my journey to better health over a year ago was the vision of better health – feeling better physically and mentally.  Loving myself unconditionally.  Underneath all of this exterior “fluff” is an athlete at heart who grew up watching her siblings play sports, watching sports on TV (what else was there, well that is until I discovered what was the amazing Saved By The Bell), and then playing sports myself.  With that being said, that competitor in me was the voice that pushed me to sign up for the 2011 Detroit Free Press Half-Marathon, having no running experience whatsoever and having weighed at that time nearly 375 pounds.  From February of 2011 until race day, I thought about that race every single day.  It WAS a huge motivating factor. Then Monday, October 17^th 2011 hit.  The day after the race.  What now?  I’d accomplished such a huge feat (for me) and finished my first half-marathon.  But now what?  If I had to look back and pinpoint a moment that has held me back over these last few months, oddly enough, it’s one of the greatest moments that I’ve ever had in my life.  Go figure.  Or maybe it’s the stigma of a finish line.  There is no finish line in life.  Even when we pass on, our eternal lives are just beginning.  So why let one event’s end be a hurdle in the continuation of another?  

So here I am, March 27^th at 10:45pm still wondering “what’s my motivation?”  Well, I’ll be honest.  I still struggle with this and at times, I don’t have a definitive answer for myself.  Is it the teenager in me that’s dying to prove that I’m not worthy of any school-age teasing and ridicule?  Is it the athlete in me that’s certain that deep down, I’m dying to make the game winning play?  Is it the little girl in me who’s never given up and believes that dreams do come true (this includes finding prince charming)?  Or is it me?  Am I my own motivation?  

I think over these last few months when I’ve just hovered around the same weight (down a little, up a little, up a little more, down a smidge ….) I’ve not thought enough about WHY I’m on this journey to begin with and, just as my young athlete questioned her teammates, what motivates me.  The problem with me, if this is a problem, is that I’m a very visual person.  I learn by seeing and I can see everything in how it should be in the future.  I visualize it and make a realistic mental image of how it should all play out …. and then I stall out.  I can create the vision in my mind, but putting it in to practice is a whole other scenario.  I am my own problem just as much as I am my own motivation.  So I must ask myself - What motivates me right now?  It’s not “finishing” what I’ve started but “continuing” what I’m destined to do.  What motivates me right now?  Not being in my own way.  It’s true what they say – we’re our own worst enemies.  I’m motivated to finally stop getting in my way.  What motivates you?