I was at 298 pounds when I finally realize that my weight has nothing to do with the food I eat (what can I say, I am a slow learner). Instead, my weight had to deal with the emotions that were eating at me. I am a substance abuser. It’s strange, but I always thought I was so much above “those” kind of people. In fact, I was rather smug that I didn’t indulge in the kind of things that alter your thinking. The reality of it is that I am, indeed, an addict. My drug of choice, however, is FOOD!

This is a serious substance to be addicted to. I, personally, feel people addicted to food have a much harder time trying to get the monkey off their backs than drug addicts do. When was the last time YOU cut out a coupon in the Sunday paper for heroin? When have you ever talked to a probably super skinny person from the comfort of your car and ordered a six-piece chicken dinner with a large side of crank? When was the last time your mother said “It’s not going to hurt you to try just one little hit.”

While it’s true that I did not wear a lamp shade on my head and dance naked through the streets (now, that’s makes me shudder to even think of the picture that thought conjures up…), I was just as anesthetized as if I were a falling-down drunk. I stuffed chocolate, cookies, cake, and candy down my mouth to keep me from feeling all the “icky” things in my life.

When something hurt my feelings, upset me, or just didn't put a smile on my face, I could medicate myself with a Snickers candy bar and could find immediate comfort in doing so. Of course, the guilt and self-loathing that followed just made it that much easier for me to “medicate” again. After all, I already knew what a loser I was. For some reason I honestly felt I could stop the emotional emergency by stuffing my mouth. If I stopped that pattern, would I even recognize the person underneath that wall? Would I have to go back and relive all the hurts I’d accumulated during my lifetime?

It was time for me to step outside myself and tear down the wall. I had to develop (or find) a plan that would become part of my life. This plan could NOT be something that would be a short-term solution, but one that I could live with for the rest of my life. I had to be committed to the plan (or at the very least, committed to why I wanted to be on the plan). I could not expect an overnight miracle and most importantly I needed to forgive any time I happen to slip up.

Whew, this was a very tall order – not to mention something that was going to take some serious soul-searching. My reasons had to come from within me – they had to be MY reasons and not something I was doing in order to try and please someone else. It was not my intention to become a size zero – no, I did NOT want to simply disappear. I wanted to be a real woman with a real body enjoying a real life. It was my intention to feed my body and to become aware of the hunger (be it physical or emotional) I was feeding at the time.


I know me and how I operate. I could NOT say I was going to lose a whopping 150 pounds (plus). Trying to lose a whole person is nothing short of daunting, to say the least – and besides how would I decide which woman within myself I would chose to lose?.

I've been on every diet known to man (or woman). I understand that in order to lose weight, you must eat less and exercise more. I have not lived as an overweight person for more than 61 years NOT to have learned that much. I'm great at tracking my food and even my exercising. What I need to learn to be great at is tracking my feelings. I have a small circle of new friends within the My Fitness Pal community that I can "let it all hang out" and they are very supportive.

I don't need another diet -- I need a contractor to help me tear down the walls that have kept me so safe throughout these long years of going up and down on the scales. And because I finally realize this, I know that I will be able to overcome (thank you Hanfordrose for those terms). This is my life and I intend to enjoy it REGARDLESS of what the numbers on the scale say about it!