The rundown

Well, here it is. This is the part where I said I would go into detail about the whole weight loss experience. It's long, it's boring, and essentially, it's never-ending. That's my disclaimer, in case you were wondering.

My first "diet" wasn't really a diet. My family just suddenly got a lot more active- long walks after dinner, or I would ride my bike behind my dad as he ran. No biggie.

I had always been a skinny kid, and the first time I remember being concerned with my weight was probably in the fifth grade (when the family walks were starting to happen). As most women could probably testify, I figured it out while trying on swimsuits in the dressing rooms at Gottshalks. That was the first year that my little sister and I didn't get matching suits- mine was black with polka dots and had a flirty little skirt, presumably to disguise the burgeoning junk in my trunk.

The summer between 6th grade and Junior High, I remember begging my mom to let me do Weight Watchers. I think I had been teased about my weight, but I'm not sure now what led me to do it. I think it was more of a case of going shopping, and none of the cute little clothes that I liked to wear looking "right" on me. Which was possibly a result of being a little pudgy, and also- well, I looked like a 30 year old trapped in a 12 year old's body.

So, Weight Watcher's it was. I had 10 lbs to lose, of which, I think I lost 8. I started junior high with a light heart, a new wardrobe, contact lenses, a new short and sophisticated bobbed haircut, and lip gloss from Clinique.

The weight stayed off for about 15 minutes, and of course, I gained it back plus more. I tried Weight Watchers again twice, with 30 and 40 pounds to lose, respectively. Both times I would start to lose, and then gain and lose the same three pounds, over and over again. The second time around, one of the leaders took my mother aside when she came to pick me up. I went out and waited in the car.

Essentially what she said was that she had a theory about me- that I was a very pretty girl (hey, thanks lady!) who was very shy. She thought that I was uncomfortable with the attention that I got from people, mainly from the boys my age, and that being overweight screened me from that.

"I see it a lot in teenaged girls," she said. "Look at her posture, look at the way she wears her hair- it's like a curtain she can hide behind. Your daughter is sabotaging herself. I don't know if it's conscious or not, but she doesn't want to lose the weight on some level- she wants to be invisible."

My mom didn't tell me about this until after I was in college. It makes me so sad to think about this. It's pretty much on the mark. Even at 13 and 14, I looked a lot older than I was. If my family went out to a restaurant with a bar, my father would walk me to the bathroom, because otherwise, college guys would totally hit on me. Is it uncomfortable having your father walk you to the bathroom? Hell yes.

In the meantime, my hormones were going full-tilt. I wore a D-cup bra by the time I was done with Freshman year. I was 5'7", 150 lbs, and I thought I was the biggest cow ever to walk the earth.

I gained steadily all though high shool. I did Slim Fast, Weight Watchers one more time. My parents promised me all kinds of things if I succeeded- cash, new clothes, cool stuff for my room...and it never worked. Then when I ended up in the doctor's office after my sophomore year for my annual physical, ahe made me get onto the dreaded scale and made a pronouncement. "You need to lose weight."

She sent me home with advice to drink Sego diet shakes. I'll tell you here and now, they tasted like ass, but they worked. Until I stopped drinking them. Thrilled to be eating real food again, and never having changed my diet or exercise habits, I gained it all back. With interest.

I actually wore my weight really well- I wasn't short, and I had (by process of elimination) an hourglass figure. Actually at this point, my body seemed determined to circumvent my desire to be invisible, and my chest expanded to ridiculous proportions. I went off to college carrying my teal foot locker, 180 lbs, and packing triple G's in the ol' brasseire.

I actually managed to lose weight in my freshman year of college- Davis was an active campus, and I would go to the gym with my roommates. I did make an attempt to join the crew team, but mononucleosis had other ideas, and I can't say I wasn't relieved to give up the 5 AM practice sessions.

Halfway through college, the insurance company finally caved and granted my request for a breast reduction. I had grooves in my shoulders from carrying those things around. When they did it, they realized that those things were so heavy, they were creating scar tissue, which meant they got heavier, and produced more scar tissue. Ew.

I am sick of this story already- maybe I will finish it one day. Through college, and most specifically, through a really really horrible controlling and emotionally
abusive relationship, I indulged in a whoooole lot of emotional eating. I gained. And gained. And gained.

At the end of the relationship, I was 25, and I estimate that I weighed around 280 pounds. I wish I had a specific reference, but the idea of climbing back onto a scale at that point just made me want to die. I just started losing because my life was busier and happier, and I was living with my parents and therefore was self-conscious about everything that I ate in front of them.

So, I started losing, and I had some kind of epiphany. I wanted to be on a program. I am not sure how, I am not sure why, but mom and I went to some quack diet center, and they put me on Bontril, AKA "diet crack."

I lost 11 pounds the first week. By the time I met my boyfriend (now husband) I was down to about 230. This is where we run into a problem. because while the Bontril worked very, very well, it was expensive and also made me a raging bitch with no warning whatsoever. And I was having to take more and more of it to keep up the weight loss effects. Which made things worse. I got down into the 190's (numbers I hadn't seen in a loooong time) just in time for my wedding, and then I quit taking it.

Within 4 months, my husband was overseas for what was supposed to be three months but turned out to be six. I'd promptly put back another 10 lbs after our wedding, but I seemed to be stabilizing. Emotional eating strikes again! By the time he got home, I was the weight he'd been when he met me. To his credit, it didn't bother him (he was just happy to be away from all the sand!) But it bothered me immensely.

I have struggled at this weight, give or take ten pounds, for the last four years. I have done South Beach twice, tried WW again (I think I am just writing them off at this point!) and most recently, tried Atkins. Which is working, but slowly, since by this time, my metabolism is so very very pissed off at me.

I have never gone over the entire story, and I am probably leaving things out here and there. But this is just for my self-edification. And if anyone else wants to read it, be my guest.