I have been brought here on this journey for a reason. I keep telling myself that. There is a really good reason why I have been selected to go through all of this. This weight gain, this weight loss, this weight gain, this illness, this sickness, this repetitive cycle that I have tried so hard to break. I have put in years and years, valuable years, young years, years that I am never going to get back trying to beat my weight. Trying to fix something that was never really working all the way to begin with. Trying to figure out the mystery of what my body wants and what my body needs.  You need water? You need vegetables? You need fruit? You need meat? You need dairy? You need exercise? You need a lot of things and I am giving it to you, but you aren’t doing ANYTHING with it. So why? Why am I still sitting here vastly overweight? Why do I keep plummeting farther and farther over the edge? Why can’t I stop?……………Why can’t I just stop?

As I type this it is almost 3:00 in the morning. I can’t sleep. Partially because I took a nap this afternoon, partially because I am coming down with the same thing that everyone at school has right now, and partially because I twisted my ankle in the store today and it’s swollen up to the size of a golf ball. Amazing. I’m on Spring Break. This is the last Spring Break I will ever have as a college student. Not counting grad school. Does anyone count grad school as college? I don’t. It’s more like….”Work School”. No, I have never taken a vacation to the beach on Spring Break with my friends. Not once. Mostly because I don’t have that kind of money just hanging around my house and partially because fat people aren’t allowed at the beach. No one has explicitly said that but let’s be honest. It’s like the unspoken rule. Socially, in our culture, fat people aren’t actually allowed on Spring Break. Does this make me feel a bit like I’ve missed out on something? Not really. I’m expecting that load of regret to fall heavy on my chest around age…ehhh I don’t know…27? Probably.

Right now I feel like perhaps my body is falling to pieces. Like at any given time I’m just going to go down and they’re going to pronounce me dead. My body is 22 years old. But it feels like I am 78. I don’t know how much longer I can take this. In the passed few months I have been to the doctor for my blood pressure. I’m on medication now which I am sure is doing wonders for my liver. Medication. For my blood pressure. Like an old person. At 22 years old. Granted it’s not just because I am overweight that I have high blood pressure. I suffer with panic disorder. You know…those sudden panic attacks that just come out of NO WHERE in the middle of the night…while you’re sleeping….in class….while you’re trying to concentrate…on the couch…while you’re watching TV? I was getting those at least 5 times a day and my heart wasn’t able to handle it. So the doctor put me on Bystolic. Which is a beta blocker that does something to my heart rate, blocks my panic attacks, and lowers my blood pressure. I don’t know. I just know it’s a very tiny purple pill that I take everyday. I’ve been emphasizing this part a lot lately when I tell people about it: “Being overweight isn’t the ONLY reason I have to be on medication for my blood pressure…”. When in all reality it’s probably the majority of the reason. Denial is a pretty familiar place these days.

The thing is…I KNOW I have to lose weight. I’m not healthy. It’s not about my pride anymore. This stupid “big is beautiful too” act can only go on so long before I’m dead. This is not about heavy girls not being beautiful and I am most certainly not encouraging people to go around telling big girls that they aren’t worthy and gorgeous just like any other woman. This is not about how I look. This is about how I feel.  My poor family…they’ve been beating their heads up against the wall for ages trying to get me to lose weight. And it’s not like I haven’t tried. I don’t want people to think that I haven’t given this whole weight loss thing a few really big fighting chances. But if you’ve never been obese…you’ll never understand. You’ll never get it. You’ll never understand the way that your body has to move when it’s overweight. Or the way that it hurts to be overweight. Or the way that it just so….unintentional. You wake up one morning and this….this is it. This is what you have become. And sometimes…like in my case…it’s not even entirely your fault. It’s the way you were COMPOSED. The way your hormones interact with each other. It’s in your blood. It’s who you are. And nothing you do seems to put a dent in the challenge. And sometimes it seems like it actually would be better for you and everyone else around you for you to just…be dead. Because there’s nothing you can do. No matter what you do. You’re just….fat.


But I’m not dead.

Not yet.


One of the reasons I couldn’t sleep tonight was because of the numbness in my hands. A recent development that hasn’t happened but two times including tonight. But when it does happen…it scares the life out of me. I’m so heavy now…the fat…it’s PULLING on my muscles. On everything. It hurts. It’s painful. It’s cutting off my circulation. And a part of my mind is screaming out…CHANGE. And then the tired part of my mind says, “Again?” And then that other part says, “Yes. Because we just have to keep trying.” And I say, “Ok.” Because what else am I supposed to do? Commit suicide? Not an option. Slowly die? That’s what’s going to happen if I don’t try again. Or keep fighting? Yes. Try again. For the man that I love. For my family. For my friends. For the future patients that need me. For my dignity. For myself.


This summer will be the first summer vacation I will have off in four years. Basically because I am running out of credits to take for my last semester. I need SOMETHING to do in the fall. So I’m taking the summer to study for and take the GRE. And while I am not committed to going to school I am going to commit myself to my health. For real this time. No joking around. Because every time I try to get back on the horse college comes and knocks me off again. And for the first time since I have been a college student I will have 3 months to dedicate to MYSELF. I just keep thinking to myself, “this may be the summer that changes my life.” And I can’t help but get a little excited. It’s hard to be excited about this kind of thing though. When you’ve seen so many failures. You feel like maybe you’re being set up to be mad and disappointed at yourself again. Because you couldn’t make it to the gym everyday. Because you let sugar cravings get the best of you. Because eventually you just got so distracted by everything else in your life that you forgot to eat healthy. That you forgot to work out. But this is serious now. I can’t FORGET to do anything because now I can FEEL that I am dying. My body isn’t going to let me forget. That little purple pill every morning isn’t going to let me forget. The numbness in my hands, the pains in my stomach, the dizzy spells, the shortness of breath, the aching in my joints, the migraines, the anxiety isn’t going to let me forget what’s going on.


So here is the plan:

I’m buying myself a swim suit. I haven’t owned a swim suit since I was 13 years old but I will buy one.

Over the summer I waking my ass up everyday at 7:00 AM. Because that is when NO ONE will be in the pool. And if they are in the pool at 7 AM then I will wake up at 6 AM. And I will swim laps. For 45 to an hour. Because I love swimming laps actually.

And I swear I will eat 3 square meals a day and NOT skip breakfast. And I will not put refined carbohydrates into my mouth any longer. I will STOP eating out so much. Restaurants will always be here. I am not going to miss out on anything. I will feed myself FRESH things. And I am kicking my old friend sugar to the curb. And I will sleep. NORMAL hours. And I will keep my living space clean. And I will slowly come to like myself again. And I will do this routine until I get it right. Until my blood is no longer poisonous. Until my body works the way it should. Until I have my health.

Now what does this mean for this blog? Well. This blog is a joke. Because I started writing it when I actually cared about my health. Back when I lost 30 pounds. And writing is blog NOW makes me an imposter. I am not healthy. I am certainly not a health nut. And besides…my computer has killed itself. And I am only able to write this entry on the sheer charity of my mother and her laptop. And while there is prospect that I am going to be getting a new laptop in a few months…I cannot promise anything. If I continue to blog…it will be under a different name on a different blog. I am sorry to those people who loved my blog here, but I am no longer going to pretend like I am something I am not. This is not who I am right now. Who I am is a very lost person in need of a new direction. Thank you to everyone who has read these posts and liked them. And thank you to my mom and my aunts who were the only ones who ever commented. Gotta love that. I hope everyone is faring better than I am right now and I will be posting on my Facebook if a new blog emerges out of the soil or something.

Signing off.

Eat, Pray, Love,




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