Bad Joke

This one is a doozy. I don’t even know where to start. Sounds so cliche to say that, but truly, I’m at a loss for words. Yesterday, at the zoo, I overheard two grown-ups (I assume they were married) make degrading comments about my weight.

I know I’m overweight. In a moment of total transparency, I have 115 pounds that I need to lose. I am hopelessly addicted to food. I’ve overcome two other major addictions in my life – meth (sober for 17 years!) and cigarettes (for 9 years). I know it is possible of overcome addiction. I also know I didn’t overcome those addictions alone.

It was the power of God, through the Holy Spirit, and the saving grace of Jesus’ sacrifice, that got me clean and off cigarettes.

But I can’t quit food cold turkey. Like, food is required. There is no requirement to consume meth or cigarettes in moderation. I have a lot of head knowledge about weight loss, nutrition, healthy food, diet changes, exercise. It is the application that I need help with.

But, when someone tries to help, I have this voice that rears up in my head that kind of screams, “I’ll eat what I want to!” And then I binge, to prove that I am my own boss.

Did I mention that I struggle with a spirit of rebellion? Not like against police, the law, or the speed limit. (Granny driver here!) But I rebelled very hard against my parents as a teen, and I see it when my dear husband says I can’t or shouldn’t have something. The poor guy – he only says that after I’ve broken down about my weight and lamented about how much I need help.

I don’t know how to do this. I’ve prayed about it. God has sent me very distinct and real messages about the state of my health, my dependence on food in relation to my emotions, and gluttony. I’ve asked for forgiveness and then within 24 hours, I’m back to my same habits.

I feel like I’m at the end of my rope. I’m fat, sick, out of shape, and I’m tired of it. I was tired of it before those people made a joke at my expense. But that joke really highlighted how much I am in this start-try-binge-shame cycle.

How’s that for a feel good writer update?

I may try to use this space as a weekly check-in of sorts. Maybe if I go public with my struggle and document the steps I’m taking, maybe that will help. Something has to give, before my body gives out.

Also, I wish I would have had the audacity to turn around to them and say, “Excuse me?” instead of just ducking my head and trying to disappear. But I know who I am, and I’ve never been that bold.

Until next time,