Just finding something to wear was enough to bum me out. I have all of our holiday clothes in a zippered storage bag in the closet. I knew that nothing in there was going to fit, but I pulled it down anyway and crossed my fingers. I have THE cutest holiday shirts in sizes ranging from large to 3X. None of them fit. None. So, I packed up my cute stuff and opted for a shirt that is kind of cute, but can easily be mistaken for a maternity top. And while I'm at it, what's with the little ties on the top of plus size shirts? Is that the 'it' trend in chubby couture? Do designers think that is some sort of flattering style accent? Seriously, I have so many shirts with random little ties at the neck. Some aren't even drawstrings, they're just sewn on so I can make a
The boat ride was fantastic and beautiful. The weather was perfect. But so many times I found the fat thoughts invading my serenity. Can I actually tip the boat over if I step on the edge? Can everyone upstairs tell when I move to one side downstairs? Will I fit in the bathroom? Can I climb that skinny staircase to the top? Am I taking up too much space on the seat? It is mentally exhausting to have to fight my brain to try to relax. A few adult beverages helped with that and I did end up having a nice time trying to figure out what the hell those people who actually live in the mansions that line the waterway do for a living. They are certainly NOT teachers, that much I know. Here I am starting to loosen up:
Even now, looking forward to taking a few days to road-trip with the hubs, the excitement is overshadowed by my hips and thighs - a very common experience in my universe. Especially meeting people I've only really known online. Will they think differently of me when they see me in person? Do they have a mental image of someone all thin and put together? Will they assume I'm lazy and "less-than" because now they can see the real me? Will the small flaws in my work now become major distractions because they're linked to the person they see as large and lazy and unprofessional? I really can drive myself crazy with these kind of thoughts.
Then there are the pictures. My husband takes great pictures and I'm so thankful that he always has his camera and captures our family moments without fail, because if he didn't nobody else would! But oh man, the personal mental war raging in my mind is in full effect in the pictures. I feel like I'm enjoying myself and smiling in the pictures, but then when I see them the next day...I really see it. Beyond my puffy face, forced smile and honky tonk badonkadonk, I can see the sadness and pain in my own eyes. It's there, even if it's not evident to everyone else, I can see it. I can certainly feel it. The eyes are the windows to the soul and right now, they are mighty smudged. I don't want to spend another Christmas like this. Smiling for a picture I know I'll hate. Not wearing the cute Christmas shirts taking up precious real estate in my closet. Being upset that the cute clothes hubby gifted to me don't fit. Letting the spirit of the season be overshadowed by the size of my size of my ass. Not fully enjoying every single precious second with family and friends.
That being said, I haven't yet really "started" <---terminology well known professional dieter peeps, such as myself. I'm not pretending to have, either. I'm still enjoying my leftovers, eating the cookies I baked, looking forward to the restaurants we love in Orlando and Naples. But I have been making a concerted effort to drink more water. I can really go the entire day with out any water at all unless it's a sip to take a pill or used to brew coffee. I'm baby-stepping it. I'm also committing to writing here at least three times a week. Even if no one else is reading it (which is actually kind of sad to imagine) it will serve as a great record of my journey to remind myself of how far I've come next Christmas when I'm pulling on my cute shirt and smiling for pictures with as much joy in my eyes as there is in my heart.