I have never been as unattractive or unhealthy as I am right now. Before you roll your eyes and accuse me of it, let’s be clear. I am not fishing for compliments or sympathy. I am simply stating the facts. I am disgusting; inside and out. Officially, I am teetering on the edge of Type 2 Diabetes and a lifetime of medicated hell. Classified as obese, despite losing all my baby weight; my health and wellbeing a messed up by product of what is left behind. When I sit down my body spreads out around me and I want to die. How did I get this way? An adulthood of weight fluctuations, of disordered eating and obsession. Of addiction to sugar and salt; a defiance and reluctance to change, to accept.
I finally see. I can see what I really look like and it’s shocking. I have 2, maybe 3 outfits that fit and work with breastfeeding. In a time when I should be nourishing myself in order to nourish my baby, instead I eat nothing until I can’t stand it and then eat all I can. Sometimes I am so busy with my two littles that I simply have no time. My heart is full, but so are my hands. There is no time for me some days.
I get resolute, angry and call myself to action. But I always fail; I am a failure and promises of starting tomorrow are empty. We all know it. But I can’t ignore it anymore. The Doctor has told me so. It has to stop before I stop. For good. It’s sugar. Sugar is killing me. Don’t scoff at me; I am not paleo Pete or Sarah Wilson. I don’t believe in fads but I am addicted to it like a drug. My body is literally breaking down around me. I have the skin peeling off my hands and legs from it. Yet I can’t stop. My Dr advises me to stop completely and resolutely. It will be painful. Like detoxing from drugs or alcohol. She tells me this and I laugh. She isn’t joking. The joke is me.
Armed with a plan and orders to sit another GTT, so concerned about my BS levels they are, I promise to try. Not for me, but for Spouse and the Littles. WIsh me luck, God knows I need it.