Advice to my former fat self … what's yours?

I wish I could go back in time for a number of reasons. One of which is to give myself advice at various stages of weight loss/gain. Here's what I would tell myself.

At 340 lbs: So this is you. You try to be invisible, which is ironic considering how large you have let yourself become. This is do-or-die time. You don't think you are in control, but you are. You've let enough of life pass you by. You spend too much time worrying about fitting in a plane seat, a movie seat, ANY seat. You hide from the world. This is no way to live. You're young. You can turn this around now.

At 215 lbs: You think you've made progress, and you have. Good job. But this isn't the real you, yet. You're in denial if you think you're a normal size right now. You think you're eating healthfully, and you are. But just too much of it. Did you count how many slices of turkey went on that sandwich? Did you count how much ketchup you put on those eggs? Don't kid yourself. You're not in celebratory mode yet. Oh, and the size 18 pants aren't normal-sized. You're still firmly in pus-size territory. Keep going.

At 265 lbs: Okay, you had some kids. This is not baby weight anymore. This is obesity, and you're using it like a cloak. Stop wishfully thinking of the days of being 215 lbs, and start getting back there. Now.

At 180 lbs: Good deal -- under 200 for this first time in forever. Amazing. Wonderful! Size 12 feels pretty darn good, even if they inflate the clothing sizes now to make you buy stuff. You say you're happy here? Content even? If only you knew what awaits you ...

At 140 lbs.: My God. Did you ever think you'd see this number? Remember this. Remember how good it feels to live life rather than thinking about food, planning your next binge, or crying because you have nothing to wear. That finish line you crossed at your first 5k? Remember how you literally collapsed with joy because you finished it -- and in pretty good time, too? Did you ever, ever think you'd run a race? Remember this happy, exhausted joy. All that hard work. So worth it. And so are the clothes you can now by because you LIKE them versus just finding something tent-like that fits. All the confidence you have now, the photos you're not afraid of being in, the life you're living and enjoying ... please stay here. It feels good here. It finally feels good.

At 150 lbs: Okay, this is still a happy weight. Please don't let it creep up. You know what to do if it does. Nip it in the bud. please nip it in the bud. Don't rationalize it away.

At 165 lbs: Remember 150 on the scale? That was panic time. Now you're looking at 165. I can feel you not caring anymore. I see that some old habits have crept in. You can still make this happen. Don't be one of the 90% of people who fail at this. You figured it out and stayed there for 4 years. Don't ruin this. Just get back on track.

At 172 lbs: Okay, this is serious now. It's getting harder to exercise like you used to, and that sucks. You loved exercising. Now it's a chore. Remember those endorphins from running 6 miles? You loved it. You walked taller. You ran harder. You smiled. Pushing yourself physically was a reward, not a burden. You keep telling yourself you're nowhere near your highest weight, so you're still doing okay. Perspective is a nasty b*tch. Be honest with yourself. You're not doing okay. You had the chance to nip it in the bud. You didn't. You still have that chance. Take it. Take it now.

At 180 lbs: Hello MFP. Please help me. I'm tired of talking to shades of my former fat self. I want to stop talking and start doing. Here I am.