what started it all for you?

I had spent my entire adult life morbidly obese. I had destroyed my left knee. I had a grand daughter that I couldn't play with the way I wanted to. My grand daughter's parents split up, and I went from keeping her every day to not even seeing her for over a month (due to the spitefulness of her mother). I spiraled deeper into depression, I was having some very scary physical symptoms (heart arrhythmias and blacking out being the worst ones), and I didn't even have a primary care physician... and didn't want one. I really was at the point where I just didn't care anymore - and I don't just mean about how unhealthy I was, I mean I didn't care if I lived anymore. Honestly, I got pissed off most mornings when I woke up...

My husband and the few close friends and family members that I have, the ones who really do care about me, were constantly on my case about getting to a doctor to get my heart checked out. They tried begging, pleading, even threatening... So I finally scheduled an appointment, just to shut them all up.

I went to that appointment on 3-June-2012. Within 5 minutes, this doctor "strongly suggested" gastric bypass surgery for me. I said "uh, thanks, but no thanks." He did blood tests, EKG, mammogram, upper GI imaging... ran me through the gamut. I went home from his office that day with 5 prescriptions, covering heartburn, cholesterol, and who remembers what else.

Now when I finally went to see a doctor, I had already begun losing weight, though it wasn't on purpose. I was unable to eat due to the stress in my life. My choices were either eat knowing it would make me throw up, or don't eat... so I wasn't eating...

Doctor wanted to see me again to do more testing in 2 weeks. I went in, had lost a few pounds, still not trying, and he added more prescriptions. I got home and was even more upset because not only was I tired of all the crap life was throwing at me, but also because we could NOT afford for me to be taking all this expensive medication. My husband is an insulin dependent diabetic, using an insulin pump, taking multiple medications, and he HAS to have his medicine... I couldn't stand the thought of wasting money on myself for medications when I didn't even want to be here anyway... Kind of the same way I stopped smoking... (finances were bad, and I counted out what change I could find. I came up with enough money to either buy one pack of cigarettes, or sandwich meat and a loaf of bread to feed my husband and kids for the 2 days till payday, but not both. I didn't choose cigarettes and haven't had once since, will be 5 years in January)

I still wasn't eating, hubby was monitoring that I took my medicine. One day, my son and daughter said they were going to go for a walk (she was 24, he was 16). I decided to tag along. Less than half a mile in and I thought I was going to die. I even told my daughter so. I told them that one of them was going to have to go get a car or call 911. They did neither. I managed to drag myself the remaining 1/4 mile home and swore I'd never do that again...

The next day, we walked a whole mile. And I walked with them every day for a week.

I hated it at first. I had grown to hate the thought of food too. Especially the way this Southern girl always cooked everything (fried, with bacon grease, mayo) and vegetables around here consisted of corn and potatoes... every "cooked" meal had white rice... but in my frame of mind, most suppers we had been eating for several months were either bacon sandwiches or hot dogs and french fries. And the french fries were deep fried, and were a 6 out of 7 nights a week thing.

Well, I could no longer eat all that grease. With the reflux, the hernia, and the fact that my nerves had my stomach in a constant state of turmoil, I had to find other things to eat. Not because I wanted to eat, but once again to shut those who cared enough to worry about me up.

I started making small changes. Baking the fries. Getting salad stuff.

My son and daughter weren't as keen about going walking every day anymore. I had started to look forward to it. I downloaded an app to my phone to track my walking. I liked the positive feedback.

I downloaded the MFP app on 9-August-2012 and have logged the foods I have eaten ever since that day. Now I may quick add calories for some things, but I've logged caloric intake since that day. Again, I liked being able to SEE what I was doing. Some of the people who were so "proud" of me, began to call me obsessed... to tell me I was getting too "into" tracking everything. My doctor, on the other hand, was excited to see the positive changes.

I don't know exactly when I realized that I was worth taking care of, that I had taken care of everyone else all my life, and that it was ok to take care of me now... but I DID realize it. And I'll never go back there.

I still don't see the 160-something pound Angie when I look in the mirror. Most of the time, I still see the 300 pound one. Occasionally, I startle myself when I catch my shadow or reflection in my peripheral vision. When I look at photos, I can clearly see the difference, but I can't believe it's me.

I've still got weight to lose, and I hope that a lot of this excess saggy skin will tighten up some... but for the first time in 40 years, I LIKE ME... I don't love me yet... don't know if I ever will... but hey, I LIKE me!