Where do I go from here?

I think the first step toward becoming a better person is admitting that you have a problem, and wanting to take action to fix it. The second is not becoming paralyzed by the daunting realization that, sometimes, you can't do that alone.

Weight has always been the ugly skeleton in my closet, since I was young. It fluctuated a lot, and, more often than not, I'd do my best to avoid that there was an issue, binge diet and do whatever hard-core exercise I could to lose a bit of weight to satiate the hollow feeling of loathing for the woman that stared back at me in the mirror every morning and every night. I was in an on-again off-again relationship with the scale--some days we were great friends, others we refused to talk to each other (or, more accurately, I would hide it under the bathroom sink until I felt willing to pull it out again). My beloved sweets were often shuttled away for more healthy things, but still teased in the background, somehow finding ways into my life when I was most vulnerable--after my father's heart attack, for example, when, in a single year, I gained 20 pounds out of total emotional eating; partially because I was upset that something like that would happen, and part because, after he did make a miraculous recovery, he took the time to point out how portly I was.

Fast forward a few years, give or take a few more.

My life isn't bad. In a lot of regards, I actually have it pretty nice. An amazing, supportive husband who I love more than life itself; the opportunity to go back to school; two wonderful cats. I am happy with those things. My appearance, well. After taking off a large amount of weight for our wedding, through health issues (I struggle with insomnia and severe headaches, as well as bouts of depression--surprise, surprise), the stress of being out of work and going back to school as an almost thirty-something, I gained back much of what I lost. And I was pissed.

So, I tried to have another go at losing, this time without the bingeing. I began doing heavy cardio and strength training three days a week and brisk, uphill walking (I live in Seattle, everything is uphill) two. I purged the house of salty snacks or anything with an over-abundance of sodium. I cut back on carbs. I eat three meals; cereals in the morning, a light lunch, and lean proteins, veggies and rice (my husband is Asian, it's a staple for both of us). No sodas, just water, 1% milk and a small cup of coffee a few mornings every week. And, looking in the mirror, I felt like there were changes. My face didn't look as plump, and what was this, was there a figure under those rolls? I was even entertaining the idea of getting a cute swimsuit for our honeymoon in July. Going in for my physical today, I was confident that I had at least lost something.

And yet, somehow, in six months, I had gained almost twenty pounds, despite all of this.

I've been crying all day. I'm sure there are people who can relate. It's more than a one-step-forward two-steps-back feeling. It's a sucker punch to the jaw and, just as you stagger back to your feet, dazed and confused on what just hit you, you're knocked down again. My doctor had no guidance for me other than "Stop being fat." I've done everything they told me to, so to say that I'm mystified is a misnomer. I'm floored. I have blood work to check my thyroid, as hypothyroidism runs in the family, and in some ways I do hope that that might be the cause for this.

So, in so many words, that's why I find myself here, in the middle of the night, laying myself far more bare than I had anticipated I would when I first started writing this. I feel lost. Helpless. Hopeless. I haven't the slightest inkling as of what to do, so I'm doing the one thing that was suggested to me that I haven't tried: Reaching out.

I've always struggled with my weight and, more than that, personal image problems. The two seem to go hand-in-hand for me. That's why I'm here; superficially, at least. I want to stop hating how I look, and how I feel. To be healthy, both physically and emotionally. That's what I want from this. Numbers are irrelevant to me, because I have no real guideline, no way of knowing where I should or want to be. I can assume.

My question, in so many words, is where do I go from here?

Thank you, and I apologize for the giant wall of text.