Rooouuuuuuuuuundabout four, five years ago, I hit what you might call "a rough spot". End of my marriage, purchase of a house, the move, mom had a health crisis, things like that. A rough spot. And I grew up incredibly poor, so food has always been a comforting thing. Thus, I have always been...a little rounder than necessary, usually right around 160 when the charts all say I should be 140, but fuck those BMI charts anyway, I like a little curvy. But this little "rough spot" pushed me to be far heavier than I've ever been. I freaked out when the scales tipped past 200, did the paleo diet thing, and lost 40 pounds.
I weighed pretty close to my target weight, I had a shiny new house that needed some decorating, I looked cute, my job was going great!
And then this whole thing kicked in for real. Annnnnnd I began stress eating. And so I gained back ten pounds.
And then my little brother and his family moved in with me while they wait for their new home to become ready, and they have a little kid, and they eat a lot of processed food. I am surrounded by unhealthy food and people giving me permission and non-judgment to eat it. And it tastes good and is easy, which is why I got fat in the first place. So I eat fast food while we are out, I eat processed food smothered in ranch while I'm home, and drink sugared soda again instead of diet. And so I gained another ten pounds.
And theeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn prednisone.
With the water weight gain and the wanting to eat ALL. THE. TIME. And there's nothing around me but junk food. And so I gained another twenty pounds.
So now I'm just about back to the weight I was when I lost my shit in the first place and started hardcore dieting. I had to buy new clothes because I'd either thrown away or turned my fat pants into painting pants. I feel gross, I feel unattractive, I feel like a loser. ...As I shove another handful of candy in my mouth because holy SHIT does the prednisone make me want to eat, like, ALL THE TIME. And my life is incredibly stressful right now, so I console and reward myself with delicious food. And so I gain weight.
FUCK IT - YOU ARE DYING! EAT ALL THE CREAM PUFFS. ALL OF THEM. ALL THAT EVER WERE. WHAT'S IT GONNA DO, KILL YOU? HEY IS THAT SALTED CARAMEL SAUCE? I BET IT WOULD BE AMAZING TO DIP THOSE CREAM PUFFS IN. YOU'RE DYING - LIVE A LITTLE. YOU CAN'T PUSH CREAM PUFFS DOWN A FEEDING TUBE, BITCHES. ENJOY THIS WHILE YOU CAN.
I tell myself I'll get back on the paleo diet just as soon as my little bro and his family are out - I'll be cooking for myself only, and I can buy non-processed shit. I won't have someone else to cook for me, and I won't be going out to fast food every other night anymore. I will Eat Right and Lose Weight. And I won't be on the prednisone for much longer, so that will help a lot, too.
Except eeeeeeeverything I've been reading about ALS has said in big bold print that if you have ALS, YOU SHOULD ABSOLUTELY NOT DIET TO LOSE WEIGHT. Because...well….you're not going to be able to eat, eventually, and you're going to NEED that extra weight to live off of. And statistically, my doctor tells me, people with extra weight tend to have better prognoses.
It's every fat girl's dream! Not only PERMISSION, but RECOMMENDATION to stay fat!
HEY CAN I GET A SIDE OF RANCH WITH THESE FRIES?
...But I don't WANT to be fat. Yes, food is delicious, but I really liked being able to fit into 32s. I felt healthier, I looked cute. I want to be there again. I want to be rid of this emerging double chin. I want to fit into medium girls' shirts - I'd say small, but I've always been too busty for that nonsense, and I am OKAY WITH THAT - because I have some really awesome ones. My Night Vale shirts are all mediums and I miss them. I want to not sweat so goddamned much. I want to not have my shirt flip up in the back when I sit down. I want to be not so self conscious about it when it does.
I don't want to be fat.
I have the power to not be fat. I have the self control. I have proven this. In 5 months, I lost 40 pounds. I can do it again. I just don't know if I SHOULD. I mean, yes, eventually I will not be able to eat at all. Probably. It doesn't always happen. I don't think this necessarily gives me permission to eat whatever I want though. And I don't know that hauling around this extra weight is any healthier, in the long run. It's such a slow progression, and I can't be fat for years and years "just in case" I start to become unable to eat.
So do I trade healthier and happier NOW for just healthier later?
I will ponder this some more, while I eat my Taco Bell lunch.
Mmmmm Baja Blast.