(Reposted for the new readers from Yahoo.com and the Womansday.com article!)
The Wake Up Call…It’s different for everyone. For some people, it’s the first time having to buy two plane tickets to travel somewhere because they are so fat. For a friend of mine it was the impending birth of his first child. He decided he wanted to be alive to see him grow up. He had gastric bypass surgery to lose the weight. That was never an option for me.
It was August 2006. 8 months since the Sweat Lodge. 8 months of going off medications.
I had high blood pressure and was dizzy all the time. I went to my doctor for something else and she said to me:
“You must lose weight. You are obese.”
I was so OUTRAGED. I was furious and offended in every possible way. I knew I was fat. I wasn’t BLIND. But for some reason having some skinny doctor tell me in a snotty tone that I was obese and pre-diabetic was rage-inducing.
I zoned out after she said the word Obese, stewing in venomous hatred for her. She handed me a pamphlet on how to treat diabetes and how diabetic people should eat. I remember leaving the office and going home still angry.
My neighbor (and one of my dearest friends) was home and I told her what happened. She listened quietly and didn’t say anything either way as I vented. “How could that BITCH call me obese? Who does she think she is?” I was so mad. I was swearing up a storm about how unprofessional and rude she was to me.
I went to bed upset. I woke up the next day upset. Then I started to go through the phases of grief: shock, anger, guilt (and self-loathing), depression…
I was so fed up with being fat. I was weighing in at 250 pounds. I was miserable, hating my body, hating that I’d let myself get so fat. At barely 5’5, I was well over 100 pounds overweight. I was considered morbidly obese.
The doctor was right. My anger started to subside and what broke me out of that outrage towards my doctor was the word “Pre-Diabetic.” I had to turn that anger towards something else and make a change.
Blood sugar tests.
Lots of equipment.
I had ignored the constant aches and pains of my body: the aching, throbbing feet from carrying 250 pounds around; the horrendous back pain from trying to hold up a humongous chest; the screaming pain in my hips when I walked; being out of breath walking one flight of stairs. Somehow, I’d managed to ignore those wake-up calls. That doctor was the drastic wake up call I finally needed.
As I previously stated, my doctor prescribed me a weight loss drug. I took them for two days and flushed them down the toilet. I hadn’t liked the way I’d felt. I was wired, like on speed or something. And after the six months it took me to detoxify from my antidepressants, I refused to fix problems with pills any longer.
I really wish I could remember what sparked the thought of how to lose weight. Maybe I just always knew it and ignored it. I didn’t get any books, didn’t go to any websites, didn’t talk to surgeons, and didn’t search for any diet gurus. I did it all on my own.
I watched what I ate.
It worked. I thought I had tried everything. I really hadn’t. I finally found something that works and I never faltered on that resolve.
This weekend I was cleaning a closet and found a box of old photos. It was hard to see some of them. Some of them were too embarrassing to ever post here. But I share this story with all of you because I *know* there are people out there like me who felt (or currently feel) how I did.
QUESTION: Okay Lurkers…I know there are people out there reading this that don’t usual comment. Please comment now and tell me what inspired you to get healthy. Everyone has a story! What’s yours?