So...What's My Excuse For Today?

I didn't get to be 280+ pounds without learning how to make excuses. I have made up some of the most outrageous reasons to justify being fat. In my youth, I was constantly looking for excuses.

When I was about 12 years old, someone asked, if I had a THYROID CONDITION. Sure...Why not? That sounds good. Especially, if it means that I can still keep eating candy bars all day long...in school and out. Then, my mom heard me say that to someone and took me to a doctor who ruled out that perfectly good excuse so fast and recommended that I be put on 1,200 calorie diet. That never happened.

I didn't know the word GENETICS, when I was a youngster; but I did think that I should be able to blame my ever-fattening body on someone else. Why not my parents? Unfortunately, my mom was some kind of freak, because she never gained weight. Who weighs only 125 pounds, when they are 9 months pregnant? Mom did, and she was skinny all of her life. On the other hand, my dad was a bit on the heavy side; but he was never as fat as me...even as a teen. Rats! I couldn't even blame my folks.

At age 14, I began doing a family history and learned where my family came from...their NATIONALITIES and my ETHIC BACKGROUND. It turned out that I was a real mutt, with family origins that nearly circled the globe. There were English, Irish, Welch, Scotch, German, Portugese, Peruvian, Brazilian, German, Australian, American Indian and a whole lot of other mixed breeds in my well-traveled family. That had to justify some of my fat...didn't it. No. There are too many normal size folks from those countries to blame any particular nation for my problem.

In my 20's, I got PREGNANT. Of course, the perfect excuse fell into my lap...or should I say...began to expand my lap. I was EATING FOR TWO...or maybe more. One thing for sure, I was putting on enough weight for quintuplets. That was the year that I first topped 200 pounds. What a huge disappointment came with the delivery of my son. He was a beautiful, healthy baby and only weighed 7.5 pounds. That left me with about a 50 pound surplus.

Now that I had passed through the gate of MOTHERHOOD and also entered into the world of EMPLOYMENT, I had another great excuse for eating. I was dealing with STRESS. Yes. Don't you think that raising a child and facing the challenges of work are enough reason to stuff my face with fast food...to grab whatever was cheap and easy for my meals during the day and all night long?

As a WORKING SINGLE PARENT, I had to make do with what I could afford and what didn't take time away from my BUSY SCHEDULE. One child + One work day + Sleep does not equal a busy schedule. As a matter of fact, I spent about 10 hours a day just eating and socializing with friends...which brings up another excuse or two...or ten.

By my mid to late 20's, I had a big SOCIAL LIFE. It began every day after work. I partied hearty with all kinds of really sociable folks...mostly sailors. My social group knew how to party! There was sex, drugs, booze and plenty of foods as well. The weekends were non-stop party time; and the men didn't seem to mind that I was fat, as long as I was available. So, I ate, drank and only did horizontal exercises. Note from my experience during those years: MARIJUANA does make you hungry and very stupid.

With men came HEARTBREAK. It seemed like men only came into my life to used me and leave me heartbroken and alone again. Yeah. I had a son, but I still felt ALONE without a man to tell me that I was 'beautiful', 'sexy'...even just 'okay'. Without that validation of me, I would fall into DEPRESSION. Of course, I had to eat...and eat...and eat, until someone else came into my life.

As I got older, I gave up the party scene and I married someone that I didn't love and didn't know. I married him, because I didn't think that I would ever find someone better. He turned out to be a ROTTEN, ABUSIVE HUSBAND and an ALCOHOLIC. Now, I knew that MY ONLY FRIEND WAS FOOD. Isn't that a good enough excuse for staying in a destructive marriage and steadily gaining weight. I learned to be a real liar and sneek eater, during those years. I hid from my husband and ate. I ate candy in bulk, buying chocolate covered anything in big bags and hiding it around the house. I reached my all-time high of 286 pounds and my all-time low. I just wanted to die. Two failed suicide attempts put me into the ER once and the mental hospital for a night. I was certainly justified in EATING MYSELF TO DEATH.

Throughout all of those years, I also had to deal with SPECIAL OCCASIONS, like BIRTHDAYS, POTLUCKS and ALL THOSE HOLIDAYS. Yes. I cooked, I was a great cook. Everyone knew that I made the best cakes, pies, cookies, fudge, potato salad, barbeque, deep fried you-name-it, Chinese, Japanese, Phillipino, Italian, Mexican or any other thing that you could stuff in your face. I was the go-to-girl for food. If I needed to make a couple of things for a party, I made few extras...just for me. Do you know anyone else who makes 52 pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving...except perhaps Marie Callender's?

This is real folks.

I divorced the abusive husband in 1994, and married the love of my life in 2004.

I am 68 years old now and confined to a wheelchair with only a few painful steps around the house with a walker, after carrying that weight for all those excuse-filled years. What can I use for an excuse now?

Well, I am OLDER and HANDICAPPED. Doesn't that mean that I have a SLOWER METABOLISM and CAN'T BE EXPECTED to eat and exercise like younger people? Afterall, I am SET IN MY WAYS. You CAN'T TEACH AN OLD DOG NEW TRICKS; or expect a TOTAL CHANGE OF LIFE STYLE...at MY AGE?

Yes, YOU CAN!!!

I have run out of excuses. I have made a commitment to a low calorie food plan and exercise...every day of the week. FREE DAYS are just another excuse in my book. I am losing weight, while still in a wheelchair...still old...no matter what my metabolism might be. I still have a lot of life to live, and I am tired of excuses.