Weight Loss & Depression

Hi. I have so much to say, bear with me. I never told anyone most of this before, but I am desperate for help.

Growing up, I was never fat & very physical participating in about every sport you can imagine. My mother was anorexic, and she continues to be until this very day (I am now 30). During my high school physical, I weighed 111 lbs & I was/am 5 ft 6 in. The doctor made a comment to my mother that she should "watch my weight." Saying this to an anorexic woman pretty much doomed me. She happened to work in the lunch room at my middle school as well at the time (so she monitored what I ate there, too). I was cut off from a lot of food... cookies, cake, cokes (I still cannot drink regular coke til this day because of this (which is probably good, but still)) anything that was "fattening." I ran up and down the stairs in our house. To get my fix on sugary treats, when I would spend the night at friends' houses, I would eat a whole tray of cookies (mmm!). My mother called me names like "fat pig."

I entered 9th grade at 98lbs. My first year, I tried out for a very competitive, physical dance team - and I made it. My whole 4 years of high school was dedicated to this team. We had about 2 months off out of the year since during the summer we went to camps dedicated to the sport. Practice was 2 hours every night & four hours on Saturday (sometimes 5) if there was an upcoming competition. I also lettered in track 1 year (doing both sports was hard) and also joined the bowling team my senior year.

Needless to say, I could eat anything I wanted. My mom moved out without a word when I was 16. I graduated at approximately 135 lbs.

Due to family stress at home with my father, I ended up finding my mother & living with her. She was a hot mess. She did drugs in front of me & it was ugly. After about a year, I knew I had to do something. At this time, I did not have an issue with food at all - overeating/binging etc. Since my Dad said he would not pay for college since I moved out, and my mother was in no condition to pay for it, I joined the Air Force.

When I weighed in right before leaving for boot camp, I weighed 138 & was a regular size 8 street clothes. It's weird to imagine, but I was very thin for a size 8 -- it's just these hips I was born with lol. Basic training was 6 weeks long. I thought it was very easy considering my dance training & age though it was EXTREMELY physically demanding. Imagine my surprise when at the end of camp I GAINED weight. I was 155 lbs. I think the training was a lot different than dancing so I know I gained a lot of my muscle -- also they made you eat 3 times a day & watched you -- I was not accustomed to eating that much. Still, all the clothes I had before leaving fit the same as when I left basic training. I looked physically the same as the day I left.

I left home in May of 2001, and got to my first duty station September 10, 2001. As a young kid, you can imagine my shock and dismay in the coming days. I was terrified. But, I was also free for the first time. I was out on my own, I could eat my own food without supervision or comments. I had money. A lot of time in the dorms was spent partying. I drank a lot of beer & tequila lol. About a year in I weighed 165 & I was a size 10. I would lose/gain weight over time but always hovered around this mark, but did not feel fat. (The one time I saw my mother after going home she said that I looked "disgusting & fat" my face had also broken out from the change in states -- it was an extreme transition.)

I was very depressed in the military. I drank a lot, and I was unhappy. It was the first time I had ever made myself throw up. It had to do with my weight, but also more to do with my extreme anxiety. When I got out I stayed with my boyfriend & he turned out to be a hot mess & the relationship was physically abusive. During this time I barely went out & rarely drank because I was much happier with my job/school life. After I left him... I was sad. I knew it was for the best, but it just sucked so bad. I moved in with a girlfriend & we would party on the weekends. Eventually I met my husband & he was great, I just loved him to pieces.

I probably weighed 170 when we started dating... & 2 years later *kitten* hit the fan. I was trying very hard to graduate college, his dad had a heart attack, his 33 year old BIL was diagnosed with cancer & my dad was going through his 2nd divorce & thought he might lose his house (my husband is from the same state as me, but moved to be with me after we were serious). We made the decision to move back home, I had been gone 11 years by this time. Somewhere around this time, I developed a relationship with food I had never had before. I don't know if it was because I was happy with my husband or what, but soon it became an obsession. Binge eating. Throwing up. My whole day focused on the foods I was eating or the food I would be eating later that day. Luckily I still exercised about 4 times a week, but still, I gained another 10 lbs. I was still depressed about things going on back home & because I loved the company I worked for so much (7 years) and my adult life had been spent there, I was depressed about going back all my friends would be gone. I began drinking again more than normal to cope, and I also entered counseling.

And then we moved at the beginning of this year (March).

I now weigh 200lbs. And I really just don't know how in this span of a year I became so obsessed with food. I have purged a couple of times since being here. I just woke up one day and I was like this is not me, this is not my body, it's not who I AM. But I have this horrible problem, I feel like I am addicted to food. I have ZERO motivation to lose weight. The only thing motivating is that I literally HATE myself and feel like a fat, disgusting pig like my mother told me I was. I try to think about things I could by after losing 10, 20, 30, 40, 50, lbs...but when I think of it I just do not care. I hate myself so much it has killed my sexual relationship with my husband (who, by the way, still tells me he thinks I am beautiful every day).

Exercise is not my problem as you can see. It's my relationship with food & it never dawned on me that it could be from when I was a child.

I want out of this cycle so badly, but part of it feels like I am just not worth it. And I was meant to be a disgusting pig just like my mother said I was. Although I am desperate to lose the weight, I feel so depressed I literally have zero motivation to do it. When I think of myself skinny, I feel nothing.

Anyways, I just had to get this off my chest. I need to do something... I am about to start graduate school and I cannot let the scale budge any further in the direction it's going.

Thank you for listening.