Zoloft Is Making Me Fat (...Maybe?)

I've ALWAYS been anxious. My parents have videos of me as a kid playing on a swing set, chattering about my fears. "What if I fall off and someone steps on me and my leg breaks off and then someone trips over it and breaks their head open and then I try to stand up and break my head open and we die?" "What if we're driving and an electric pole falls and hits the car and smashes us and we all die?" "What if I push the glider too hard and it comes and slices my head open and I fall down and a worm crawls into my head and lives there?"

I've dealt with my anxiety in a number of ways. When I was younger, I just cried a lot and freaked out all the time. In college, I used drugs and alcohol to help self-medicate. After the fire that burned down my dorm (with me in it), I was sent to a therapist who put me on Paxil. I only took that for a little while (it made me black out all the time when I drank, and I wasn't willing at the time to give up drinking). After my open heart surgery, I was put on a low dose of Xanax. For the last 6 or so years, I've taken a low dose of Xanax daily, but it's lost its effectiveness over the years. I mean, it didn't really REALLY help much anyway, but I guess it made me feel better. Anyway, I had to go in for a refill last month and my doctor decided to try putting me on something else.

My doctor (actually, she's a nurse practitioner but I've never met the doctor) told me that Zoloft would be a good choice for me, as the side effects aren't horrible and it's not addictive like Xanax. Being the anxiety-filled freak I am, I immediately started Googling side-effects and was horrified by the staggering volume of complaints linking Zoloft to weight gain. I almost didn't even fill my prescription. I was freaking out. But I decided to try it anyway. When I was on steroids back when I first started Weight Watchers, everyone said I would gain weight but my doctor said it was because of increased appetite, and as long as I watched my eating I wouldn't gain. The steroids messed me up a little, but she was right--I didn't gain any weight.

So when I started the Zoloft I figured I would just keep tracking like always, and I increased my activity a little. The weather's been nice so I've been walking more than ever, I've been working in the yard, taking long walks at work during lunch, swimming, dancing, moving all I can. I've also been eating fine. I mean, I'm still always hungry, but I'm tracking everything and working hard to stay under my Points.

But I FUCKING GAINED. And when I groaned on the scale, saying "I did everything right! I should have lost! Maybe it's the Zoloft..." my Weight Watchers meeting leader immediately agreed. She said she's seen too many people gain weight on Zoloft. Other people started chiming in--"It made me a fatty!" and "Stop taking it right now!"

I gave myself a few weeks to feel the effects, and I actually really liked what Zoloft did for me (it didn't help my anxiety so much, but it did keep my temper under control and made my reactions to things a little less extreme). I just couldn't deal with the weight gain. I was on Zoloft to help alleviate my anxiety, and gaining weight increased my anxiety exponentially. Not great.

So I talked to my doctor but now, as of yesterday, I'm weaning off the Zoloft and onto Lexapro.

We'll see what happens. But I will totally be stressing out about it, just FYI.

Weight Gain For No Reason

Sometimes I go to my weekly Weight Watchers weigh-in fully expecting to lose weight, only to find out after stepping on the scale that I've inexplicably gained.

This is one of those weeks.

It's frustrating because I did EVERYTHING "right". I stayed within my points, I was relatively active, I drank a ton of water and ate fruit and veggies every day.

So why did I gain?

Well, after sticking with Weight Watchers for well over a year, I have learned that sometimes, it just happens. Sometimes you do everything you're supposed to do and you still fail. Sometimes you eat exactly what you're supposed to eat and you still gain weight.

The good news is that I'm not giving up--not even close. I'm going to keep going, keep tracking, and hope for a better number next week.

The bad news is that I'm still at the same weight that I was before Thanksgiving. After gaining .4 pounds this week, I'm back up to 210.8. Two months of sticking to Weight Watchers has netted me a total GAIN of 1.6 pounds. Okay, I didn't really "stick" to Weight Watchers because I went over my points almost every week for those two months. But I did track everything, and I was active, and I did show more restraint around food than I ever did before. So here I am, 1/22/14, and I weigh 1.6 pounds more than I did on 11/20/13.

However, I weighed 279.6 pounds the week before Thanksgiving in 2012. So I weigh 68.8 pounds less than I did on 11/20/12.

That's something at least!

Haribo Sugarless Gummy Bears: Mmm Laxatives!

I AM GROSS.

Okay?

I admit it. I do gross stuff. I eat gross things. And I really, really like to poop.

If that grosses you out, you should probably stop reading right here. 

I haven't always loved pooping. In fact, I never used to think about it at all. I would poop once, maybe twice a day, and go about my *ehrm* business. Never paid it much mind, as they say.

That was before the Great Constipation Event of 2013. You know, when I ate box after box of Fiber One Bars and completely stopped pooping. It was horrible. I never really wished for poop before then. I had never once hoped for a bowel movement. I reached a new low.

Then, I had heart surgery and things got a little weird in my intestines. I don't know if it was the pain killers or what, but I went from being a daily plopper to a cross-your-fingers-today-is-the-day gross old lady straining on the commode. Not at place I thought I'd be at 31 years of age. I started taking Milk of Magnesia once a week or so (okay, every Tuesday right before my weigh-in on Wednesday) to help clear out my system, but it never seemed to work that well. I still felt all bloated and blocked up.

Recently, I rediscovered what my friends used to call "Poo Poo Tea." It's this Super Dieter's Tea and I had tried it a few times back when we were doing a weight loss challenge at work. This was maybe 10 years ago, and I managed to go from 235 pounds down to 228 pounds. That was a big deal at the time. It didn't last long before I gained it right back, but the one additional thing that I gained from that experience was the knowledge that "Poo Poo Tea" will turn a normal person's gut into a boiling river of hot diarrhea lava. I never knew seemingly benign tea, something so weak and flavorless that I never drank in any version, let along shit-inducing varieties, could wreak such havoc on your digestive track. I had maybe two mugs full back then and never tried it again. Until two or so weeks ago, that is. I bought a box on Amazon, cleared my schedule for 24 hours, and prepared to be amazed at the volume of feces exiting my colon. Unfortunately, not much happened. A little gurgle, a little tummy cramping, and then a decent but solid stool the next day. Hardly the apocalyptic anal nightmare I was expecting. But I was still happy SOMETHING came out.

So when the reviews for the Haribo Sugarless Gummy Bears went viral (the Amazon reviews are here) I was crying and howling with laughter while also thinking, "Hmm...wonder if they really work...?" So while everyone else I know was sharing the hilarity of the comments and taking pity on the consumers, I was clicking "Buy Now!" and hoping the 2 day Prime shipping got them here before my next weigh-in.

They got here, indeed. And passed right through!

I ordered the one pound bag and carefully portioned out 12 bears. To me, they were indistinguishable from the regular Haribo bears. They were awesome. I LOVE gummy bears. I love all candy (except orange candy...or Tootsie Rolls...so obviously I picked out the orange ones). It was really hard to only eat 12 gummy bears. I don't think I've stopped at 12 bears in my whole life. I waited eagerly for the trumpeting gas, the "Niagara Falls through a straw" effect, the total colonic cleanse. Unfortunately, I got a couple gurgles and that was all.

Then my girlfriend started having major stomach pain (she did NOT have the gummy bears). I drove her to the hospital and we got checked in to the ER. That's when my stomach started feeling...well...I was just very aware of my digestive system. A little crampy, a little pressure, a few funny squishy noises. This was around three hours after eating the bears.

We were in the ER most of the night--it turns out she had a really bad kidney stone, which she's never had before. I kept going to the bathroom but not GOING to the bathroom. A little gas (some of it pretty loud) but that was it.

When we got home this morning, I ate another 12 bears. It was around 12 hours after the first handful. This time, I finally started to feel things moving along. I went to bed for a few hours and when I woke up I ate another 8 bears. Within the hour, I was in the bathroom, making progress for the first time in three days! It was great! Nothing loose as reported in the reviews (or, more accurately, no "chocolate rain" as they described it) but a respectable amount.

I weighed myself before and after my bathroom trip: two pounds down!

This afternoon, I'm still a little gassy and I actually feel like I might go again. Here's hoping--I have weigh-in tomorrow, so it would be really nice to empty out a little more of my intestines!

I was really hoping for a more dramatic effect, but I have to say that this is a MUCH more delicious way to get things moving. No more Milk of Magnesia--I just need some sugar free gummy bears and I'm golden! This might become my new pre-weigh-in ritual.

(I am sad that I am so excited about pooping. But I had to share.)

Back On Track

After several weeks of exceeding my Weight Watchers Points (like, by 50 Points! That's like just eating an entire pie, with toppings!) I finally managed to stay mostly within my allotment for the week. Okay, to be honest, I counted two hours of walking yesterday just so I wouldn't go over, even though my 'walking' was really taking an extremely slow shuffling tour of a Masonic temple with some elderly people, one of whom was wearing a prosthetic leg, so I probably shouldn't have counted this as exercise. But anyway, I stayed close to my Points and it paid off.

Down 3.2 pounds this week! That brings me to 208.8 pounds, down 95.2 from 304 pounds. Slowly but surely, right? I'm getting pretty close to losing 100 pounds, which is pretty awesome for me. Also, while I was at weigh-in, I saw someone who I haven't seen in a year or so and she was amazed at how much I've lost. It's so incredible to have people tell me how great I look! That's something you just don't hear much when you're over 300 pounds.

So even though I'm sitting here with a half-eaten plate of Christmas cookies on my desk, I still feel like I'm back on track. I'm trimming back, counting the Points of everything I eat, and trying to stick to my daily Weight Watchers goals. It's not easy with so much holiday cheer being passed around in the form of calorie-laden treats, but I'm getting much better at saying NO. "No, thanks! That looks great but I'm on Weight Watchers." It was embarrassing last year. Really, at close to 300 pounds (I was making some progress by Christmas last year) I felt like people were laughing at me when I said I was on a diet. I could almost hear them thinking "Sure, this bitch is dieting! I bet she steals cookies when our backs are turned and eats them in the bathroom." But now that I can see so much progress, I feel a little proud to tell people I'm sticking with Weight Watchers and passing on the treats.

I still eat what I want, but my Planned Indulgences list is working wonders for me. I still plan to splurge on some eggnog, one of those Hershey Kiss cookies, a Christmas Snickers when I get my stocking, and the full meal on Christmas Day. But knowing that I'm going to eat that delicious shit soon makes it SO much easier to say "No, thanks!" to the sugar cookies, chocolate covered pretzels, and candied nuts I see every day now.

I'm still hoping to lose a few more pounds before the end of the year, mostly because my work gives us gift cards if we work out enough or lose enough weight to earn one. I'm close but not quite there, and I could really use a $50 Target shopping spree!

As long as Christmas doesn't derail my Weight Watchers train, I should be down a few pounds by New Year's!

Keep On Keepin' On

I am now officially smaller than I have been in my entire adult life.

I weighed in at my Weight Watchers At Work meeting today and was down 5 pounds for the week...which brings me down to 209.2 pounds. UNDER 210 POUNDS!

Total lost? 94.8 pounds.

That's, like...unimaginable. I weighed 304 pounds last August. Now, I'm literally smaller than I was in high school. I'm sitting here in size 17 skinny jeans, knee high boots, and a size 14 vest. WHAT?!

I'm still having trouble feeling like I'm that much smaller, though. I mean, I feel amazing, but I think that's like 75% having a heart valve that actually works and 25% being smaller.

But it doesn't matter. I AM losing weight, and everyone around me is commenting on it, and it's awesome.

When I entered my new weight into my Weight Watchers app, it let me know that I actually hit the last goal I set. I've been resetting my goal by 10 or 15 pounds at a time because, seriously, having a goal of losing 100+ pounds at the beginning would have just overwhelmed me and I would have quit this shit a year ago. So my latest goal was 210 pounds, which was a big deal for me because I can't remember ever being under 210 pounds since middle school I think.

Forced to reset my goal, I went with around 10 pounds less than my current weight. I SET MY GOAL AT 199 POUNDS. That's just...I mean, you can't understand if you haven't been there, but that's just fucking mindblowing. Not only am I actually aiming for less than 200 pounds...but it's attainable! Like, within 10 pounds! I couldn't help the tears forming in my eyes. After spending basically a lifetime weighing more than 200 pounds (which is such a shameful, stigmatized thing for a woman), I am now within sight of 199 pounds.

Fucking incredible. 

Abs of Jelly

It's so awesome to be able to dress my age again. I mean, I'm only 31. I felt like a gross old lady every time I went to work wearing yoga pants (knowing very well that I was NOT going to practice any yoga) and Crocs and cardigans. I spent almost two years in tent dresses and flip flops all summer, then "dress" sweats and baggy sweaters all winter.

This is my first real Fall since so long ago. I can wear real jeans again, and cute, form-fitting sweaters, with fitted jackets and knee-high riding boots. It's amazing.

But as much as I'm loving the ability to wear jeans, I am still facing the problem I've had for years: my Gonzo-nose stomach. Even though I'm smaller now, I'm still virtually the same shape. I have the same lumps and flab, and my stomach is still big and soft. It hangs down (the ultra-embarrassing, often unspoken of, dreaded pannus ::shudder::). It bulges out. And, hardest to conceal, it pooches out right above my bellybutton. If I wear jeans that come to my bellybutton or below, it doesn't matter if they fit me or even if they're too big: my stomach roll sticks out over my pants.

My only solution is to wear pants that come above my bellybutton. Like, mom jeans that come up high and act as a girdle, or maternity-type pants that unfold to form a flat surface up my torso. I do have some Spanx but, let's face it, I'm not putting that much effort into beautifying myself for work. And I have those slimming camisoles that keep everything smooth, but they roll up sometimes and they're just not very comfortable pushing down on my healing heart surgery scars.

While I continue to fight my own battle of the bulge using my wardrobe as a weapon, I'm also fighting on another front: from the inside. I saw some people posting challenges on Facebook and decided to try one. Then...I decided to try another. Now I'm doing two different month long ab challenges, and...I'm secretly loving it!

The first one is the 30 Day Plank Challenge:

The 30 Day Plank Challenge will send your core strength through the roof!
Day 1 - 20 seconds
Day 2 - 20 seconds
Day 3 - 30 seconds
Day 4 - 30 seconds
Day 5 - 40 seconds
Day 6 - REST
Day 7 - 45 seconds
Day 8 - 45 seconds
Day 9 - 60 seconds
Day 10 - 60 seconds
Day 11 - 60 seconds
Day 12 - 90 seconds
Day 13 - REST
Day 14 - 90 seconds
Day 15 - 90 seconds
Day 16 - 120 seconds
Day 17 - 120 seconds
Day 18 - 150 seconds
Day 19 - REST
Day 20 - 150 seconds
Day 21 - 150 seconds
Day 22 - 180 seconds
Day 23 - 180 seconds
Day 24 - 210 seconds
Day 25 - 210 seconds
Day 26 - REST
Day 27 - 240 seconds
Day 28 - 240 seconds
Day 29 - 270 seconds
Day 30 - PLANK FOR AS LONG AS POSSIBLE!!

It was incredibly difficult at first, since I haven't really ever planked before. I mean, I was shaking and gasping and I didn't think I was going to make it. (To be clear, this is not that cheesy Instagram/Twitter planking thing, where I go balance myself, like, on the railing at Niagara Falls while my girlfriend takes a photo and hopes I don't fall off and die.) Now, on day 7, it's still hard. And every few days it's going to get harder. But my abs feel great, and I feel like I'm actually accomplishing something each day!

The second one is the 24 Day Abs-So-Tightly Right Challenge. This one involves crunches, which aren't so bad, along with leg raises, which was apparently completely impossible for me to do. I tried. I swear I did. But I just can't lift both legs at once. They're pretty big legs, but I still feel like I should be able to lift them. When I try, though, my back starts to arch and then my tailbone grinds into the ground (which is probably not good for my temporarily dormant pilonidal cyst) and I just can't get them to raise off the ground no matter how hard I strain. Instead, I'm making up for it by doing single leg raises, one leg at a time, and I've added side leg lifts because that's what my mom always did when I was little and it just seems like something that should be included in a workout. This challenge also asks you to plank, but I figure I have that covered in the first challenge.

I already feel like I can feel a bit of definition when I put my hands on my hips. And when I roll over on my side, I feel like a little less belly settles down in front of me. I gained weight during my last two weigh-ins, but I do feel stronger and my abs are seriously sore. Something must be working. Maybe by the end of the month, I'll be able to wear pants that don't come up to my armpits.

91 Pounds Down!

This is a 91 pound fish. That is a BIG FISH, yo.

I am down 91 pounds as of this week.

Let's just let that sink in.

91 pounds. I really can't believe it. I feel like I've had so many setbacks, like so many weeks I gained instead of lost, but here I am...91 pounds lost. Well, not lost. I didn't 'lose' them, I worked my ass off, tracking every bite and now pushing myself harder and harder at cardiac rehab. So 91 pounds fucking eliminated! Yeah!

At weigh-in on Wednesday, some of my coworkers were complaining about how they felt like they kept gaining just as much as they lost. One girl was saying, "I go down .6 one week, but then up .2 the next week. Then down .4 and then back up .1." I wanted to shake her and say, like, "Do the math, dummy! You may be up and down, but down .6, up .2, down .4, and up .1 is still a total of .7 down! That's progress!" But I didn't say anything. I still feel really awkward acknowledging my weight loss. I probably should have spoken up, though, because I have TOTALLY been there. The weight chart on my Weight Watchers app looks like a saw. It's a jagged line, up and down in tiny increments, but the overall slope is downward.

I've mentioned on here the weeks where I've gained 10 FREAKIN POUNDS in one week. And back at the beginning of this year when I hit that stupid fucking plateau and didn't lose a single pound for two months.

I mean, yeah, I've lost 91 pounds. But that's been since last August. That's definitely less than the 2 pounds per week that people expect. I sometimes do feel like I've gained as much as I've lost. Mathematically that's obviously not the case, but I've had enough tiny gains that I know now not to freak out. Little by little, up and down, I've been making progress. And I didn't let those 10 pound gains stop me (seriously, 10 pounds...that's nuts). And here I am. 91 pounds down. Slowly but surely.

Milk of Magnesia

So the past couple of weeks, I've gotten into what seems like a bad habit. On Tuesday nights before my Weight Watchers weigh-in, I've taken a dose of Milk of Magnesia. I don't know...it sort of feels like cheating.

I had never tried Milk of Magnesia before this year, but I had a, erhm, stomach problem earlier this year and it actually ended up helping. Then I stocked up on it in case I had the same problem again, and when I felt bloated a couple weeks ago before weigh-in I decided to take some. I hate feeling bloated before weigh-in. And the thought of having a falsely high weigh-in is devastating to me. I'm one of those people stripping down in the Weight Watchers line, even taking off my tiny bracelet and dainty necklace, my work lanyard, extra rubber bands, everything. We joke about the "pre-weigh-in-bathroom-rush" where for the hour preceding the weekly weigh-in, there's a constant cycle of people from my department at work trying to eliminate those last few ounces. We all go to the bathroom at least once, and no one drinks water or eats any snacks all morning. But this Milk of Magnesia is taking it to a whole other level. Now I feel like if I don't get 'cleaned out' before weigh-in I'm going to weigh like 3 pounds more and then I'll be really sad.

I don't know. It's gross. It's weird. It's not even really helping much. But it's making me feel better. That's gotta count for something, right?

Let's Get Physical

I'm feeling pretty confident about tomorrow's weigh-in. I've eaten right all week, cut out those dreaded Fiber One bars, and I'm recovered pretty thoroughly from that plateau. Stupid fucking plateau. I don't want to get my hopes up too much, but today after work I weighed myself (okay, I hadn't had any water all day so maybe I was dehydrated, but still) and the scale said 242.8!

SERIOUSLY!

That's a weight loss of more than 60 pounds from my starting weight of 304! Again, I don't want to get my hopes up...but I'm pretty sure I'll be down at least 3 pounds this week, which is going to put me right around the 60 pound mark. Not quite to my next mini-goal of 240 but pretty damn close!

We'll see what happens at weigh-in tomorrow. But the odds appear to be in my favor!

Plus, I made a pretty remarkable accomplishment this week. I worked out. TWICE. I know, I know, most people do that, like, every day. But I haven't REALLY worked out since..well...probably since before my open heart surgery, which was over 5 years ago now. This wasn't anything strenuous--just this yoga/pilates combo dvd that I used to do all the time in college. I used to love getting stoned and listening to the British chick speak in such calming tones, telling me to keep my abs strong and breathe into my poses.

Turns out that it's still really fun and relaxing!

But I was so incredibly sore afterward. I felt like someone shoved me down a mountain and I hit every rock on the way down. Sitting on the toilet hurts. Coughing hurts. Putting on my shoes hurts. But it's a good pain! I haven't had workout pain for a long time! It's making me feel stronger, which is helping me feel even better about myself. It's like I keep looking in the mirror and seeing the girl I used to be. I don't see the sloppy matron in baggy pants and a cardigan--I see the hot vixen again. I feel like I'm getting my spark back.

I'm basically at the weight that I was all through college--a few more months and I might actually be smaller than I was in college. What a miracle that would be.

Over The Hill! Or Plateau, Whatever

FINALLY! Seriously, FINAL-FUCKING-LY. I got over it. I broke through the plateau. I thought I was going to give up. I really thought about moving to Canada and living as an Inuit under layers of fur and hide. I didn't think it was going to happen. I didn't think I was going to make it.

But I did.

My Wednesday Weight Watchers weigh-in outcome: down 3.8 pounds, for a grand total of 56.8 pounds lost and a current weight of 247.2. This is the smallest I've been in 5 years. That's a big deal for me. But breaking through that fucking plateau feels like an even more remarkable victory.

I was really feeling crazy. Seven weeks without losing weight, when you're really working hard at it, is so devastating. Incredibly discouraging. I for real thought about quitting, but I had some kind friends and strangers (including randoms from the Weight Watchers community board, who somehow saw my surrender flag and rushed in to give me advice and support) who helped me put things into perspective. Like the fact that I had already lost over 50 pounds--did I really want to go back to weighing more than 300 pounds? That answer is a clear NO FUCKING WAY. I don't want to go back. But I just psychologically could not continue following Weight Watchers without losing weight. I couldn't keep passing up second helpings and limiting my delicious cheese intake without seeing some results. I was ready to go fucking crazy.

And the weirdest part is that I think I figured out what was causing my plateau, and completely preventing me from losing weight. The culprit: Fiber One 90 Calorie Bars. Seriously!

After pretty consistently shedding weight from August through mid-February, I abruptly stopped losing weight. Everyone said to stick with it and the plateau would break. I waited a week, two weeks, three weeks...oh my god, every weigh-in was so horrible. I couldn't figure it out. I was weighing and measuring all my food, I was drinking enough water, I was moving more and being active and even doing stuff I don't normally do, like playing on playgrounds with my niece and nephew and hiking down to the creek to take pictures. That scale was not budging. I tried all of the little tips people gave me: switch up my breakfasts, try alternating high- and low-Point days, take a walk, drink more water.

When nothing was working, last Thursday I tried thinking of anything that had changed at the end of February to make me stop losing weight. I had already wracked my brain for changes in activity, medication, whatever. Then it struck me: late February was when my girlfriend discovered Fiber One bars and I LOVED them! I started eating those Fiber One brownie things (they're only 2 Points) and then the Fiber One 90 Calorie Bars (the caramel pretzel is amazing). I was eating them every day, sometimes one of each every day. I was counting the Points and everything, but somehow I guess my body just went nuts. I stopped eating them last Thursday just to see if it made a difference, and I lost a pound overnight. That hasn't happened in months. Then I kept them out of my diet all week until weigh-in just to see, and I was down 3.8 pounds.

Amazing.

Oh, and I'm, uh, having my 'monthly cycle'...which means I will hopefully/probably lose next week too.

It feels really good to be back on track, but even better knowing that I stuck with it even when I was discouraged and really pissed off. I've never stuck with anything that gave me SEVEN WEEKS of failure. The fact that I continued to eat right, continued to track my food, and continued to make good food choices instead of falling completely off the wagon means that maybe something has changed that's more than a scale victory. Maybe my brain is changing. It feels like everything's coming together right now--I'm finally losing weight, which has been my dream and fantasy for so many years without me ever making much progress. I also got promoted at work, so now I'm a department manager overseeing two creative teams. I have my dream job at a magazine, I have an amazing girlfriend who puts up with my tantrums, I feel pretty hot right now, I'm getting compliments from everyone about my weight loss, my skin looks fabulous thanks to all of the cool products I'm trying (blame that one on my serious subscription box addition), my hair is my favorite color of Cotton Candy Pink (a happy accident--apparently bleaching purple hair makes it turn pink and all you can do is add more pink), the birds are singing, flowers are growing, and the weather is turning nice so I can finally put the top down on the convertible.

I think this is going to be a good spring.

Seriously? Seven Week Weight Loss Plateau? SERIOUSLY?

I wrote this last week and never posted it...here you go...

I am feeling pretty discouraged right now. I've gone through a lot of emotions since weigh-in Wednesday (4/10): anger, embarrassment, defeat, anger, indignation, confusion, anger, desperation, guilt, depression, more anger. I thought about quitting. I talked about it. I begged for advice from people who have gone through this before. I got angrier. I got defiant. I decided to eat whatever the fuck I wanted. Then I felt guilty and tracked everything I ate. The cheese coma Wednesday night made me feel better for a brief moment, but I'm still mad. And guilty. And despondent.

Here's what's up: I have been struggling to get over this weight loss plateau for seven weeks now. It's really pissing me off. I have been losing and gaining the same pound over and over. Now I'm at a point where something's gotta give, or I'm just going to lose my fucking mind.

Tumbling After

I don't want to jinx myself, but I may have knocked my body off its weight loss plateau.

I'll have to wait until my Wednesday weigh-in to know for sure, but I think I'm actually starting to lose again. WHEW. I was getting really frustrated and depressed over my lack of progress for the past month and a half.

My Weight Watchers meeting leader told me to try eating different breakfasts (apparently if you've been eating Yoplait pretty much every single morning for five years, your body gets used to it...who knew?) so I've been making banana berry smoothies and having a Fiber One bar a little later. Plus, I've been trying to get in my daily recommended healthy oil. I don't know why eating more oil is going to help, but if it works I don't care why.

Even if I don't lose this weight (but I seriously fucking BETTER lose this week) I'm still happy:
I rode in a go-kart today WITH a six year old kid and I didn't crush her! After all of my painful and cringe-worthy moments at the amusement park last summer as a result of my weight, I was really nervous about riding the go-karts. I was there with my niece (technically my girlfriend's niece, but I think since my girlfriend and I have been together longer than she's been alive, I have the right to call her my niece. Besides, she's called me Auntie all her life anyway...which I love :)). Her grandparents asked her who she wanted to drive with her since she's not tall enough to ride alone, and I died a little inside when she picked me. I did the usual watch-everyone-in-line-to-see-if-I'm-the-biggest thing. And I pretty much hyperventilated the whole time waiting to board. When we got in the car, though, I was able to fasten the seat belt comfortably and we sat side-by-side without her being squashed into the corner. And since I fit and I was comfortable, it was FUN! Really fun! And all of the pictures everyone took as we whizzed past turned out fine, without my double chin dangling down like a turkey wattle.

On top of that, I've been getting compliments from people this past week and it's awesome. Seeing my family at Easter started off the good-vibey warm-fuzzies week with everyone telling me I look good. My girlfriend commented several times, one of my best friends who only gives compliments rarely and very begrudgingly told me I've obviously lost a lot of weight, and my girlfriend's family was impressed. And then one of my employees sent me a note telling me I look great and to keep it up. I immediately employed my weird compliment-brush-off by complaining about not making any progress for over a month, and she responded with a bit of wisdom that I REALLY needed to hear. I wish I could remember exactly how she phrased it, but it was something like, "Even people climbing Mount Everest stop at base camp along the way."

So maybe this plateau is just base camp. I'm adjusting to the altitude. Now it's time to pack up my shit and move on!

Tagalong Plateau

LOSING WEIGHT SUCKS.

Seriously.

This is not fun. Well, it would be more fun if I were ACTUALLY LOSING WEIGHT. Instead, I've been losing and gaining the same pound for a month and a half. A MONTH AND A HALF! I am the same weight that I was on 2/20, even though I have been tracking everything religiously on Weight Watchers.

Is this was a plateau feels like?

I wouldn't know. I've never lost enough to even hit a plateau. Or when I did stop losing weight for even a week or so, I'd just give up and eat what I want. Like, fuck it, right?

But I'm really trying not to go that this time. I'm really trying to stay focused on losing weight, but it's SO FUCKING HARD.

Like Easter. Everyone else enjoyed Easter baskets full of candy and chocolate, or stuffed their faces with banana pudding and my grandma's special eclair cake. I measured, weighed, and tracked every morsel and...I didn't even get an Easter basket this year :( Yes, it's sad that I am 31 and this is the first year I have not gotten a basket. But STILL! That's sad.

At my weigh-in yesterday I think my meeting leader saw my frustration (or maybe the "FUCK!" that flew from my lips tipped her off) and tried to talk to me about some strategies. I told her I'm still nervous about working out, with my stupid non-functioning heart valve and all that, so she tried to find other sources of my weight loss stagnation. Not drinking enough water (it's true), not meeting my healthy guidelines for oil (well, if I have to choose between one Point of oil and one Point of chocolate, who do you think wins??), and then said something that made me want to laugh and cry at the same time (ala my favorite movie quotation, courtesy of Steel Magnolias: "Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion..." but this was NOT a good emotion)...she asked if I had stress and said stress can make your body hold on to fat. I was like, "HA! Okay, so I have no hope?"

I mean, I have super high anxiety anyway. All the time. I take Xanax to manage it but it honestly doesn't do much good. On top of that, I just got a promotion at work last week so now I'm in charge of about two times more than I was before...and I was already in charge of a LOT. So if stress is going to keep me from losing weight, I should probably just throw in the towel now because this belly is not going anywhere.

But I won't give up. At least, not yet. She also gave me a few other suggestions: try eating a bigger breakfast (I've been eating a container of yogurt every morning for around five years now, so it makes sense that my body would get used to it) and a smaller supper (I stuff my face at supper because that's the time I have to cook big delicious meals, but if it'll help I will try).

Still, something's gotta give. Last week I lost .8 pounds, down to 249.4. This week, I gained 1.2 pounds, back up to 250.6. I've still lost over 50 pounds since I started out at 304 pounds in August, but this past month and a half has been really discouraging.

I hate missing out on good food. I know that in the long run I'll be happier and healthier and missing out on Girl Scout cookies for one year isn't going to make my big list of Life Regrets when I'm on my death bed. But I titled this post Tagalong Plateau because that was actually the name of one of my favorite cats growing up. I was a Girl Scout for 13 years and Tagalong Plateau is the name of a landmark reached by the Girl Scouts in some really weird old cassette tape I used to listen to before bed (which I sadly can't find anywhere and of which I can find no reference on the almighty Google). All of my cats had Girl Scout cookie names. I fucking love Girl Scout cookies. This year? ZERO cookies. I couldn't trust myself to buy a box because I totally knew I would eat the whole thing. I gave a donation to our local Girl Scout Council instead (partly to assuage my guilt over turning down all the cookie offers, and partly in support of their acceptance of gay scouts, which is a really big deal to me). But I'm SAD I didn't eat a Girl Scout cookie, and I STILL gained weight. Like, maybe I should have eaten a whole box just so I could point my finger and say "There, yep, that's why I gained weight...whole box of delicious cookies. Worth it." Instead, I'm looking back through my month's food tracker thinking "Wow, I made some really healthy choices and ate a ton of veggies and really cut back on the cheese and chocolate and all things delicious...so why the fuck did I GAIN? AGAIN?!"

I'm not giving up, but I'm getting more and more tempted to just go sit at a Golden Corral and stuff my face until they drag me away from the buffet with a trail of mac n cheese and gummy bears behind me...

Up & Down Like A Yoyo

I've been really frustrated with my weight for the past few weeks. No, I've been really frustrated with myself.

Ever since my birthday a little over a month ago, my weight has been fluctuating up and down like crazy. Sure, there are other factors at play: I drank a lot because it was my birthday, I was horribly constipated for the first time ever and though I was going to die, I pretty much stopped drinking water, I had my anniversary dinner and ate until I thought I was going to pass out, I tried to be a good boss by bringing sugar-laced green vodka and Puckers mixed with Sprite and served in sugar-encrusted shot glasses for St. Patrick's Day, I entered a Peep diorama contest (and won! yay!) which also meant the demise and consumption of untold number of Peeps, my girlfriend has been stocking up on Cadbury Creme Eggs like a squirrel storing nuts for the winter and won't tell me "no" when I ask for one...etc etc etc. So, yeah, I guess there may be some factors going on this month. BUT I still stuck to the Plan...

So why, on last Wednesday's weigh in, did I gain 1.4 pounds? I'm back up to 250.2 pounds, for a total loss of 53.8 from my 304 starting weight. Not bad, but not exactly on track. If I were losing 2 pounds per week, 10 pounds per month, I'd be down 75 pounds right now. I'm not even close! Gaining weight last week really pissed me off.

I told myself, "Well, that's okay, I ate a lot at my anniversary dinner and I haven't been drinking water and blah blah blah" but THEN I looked at my Weight Watchers weight tracker and grasped something that had escaped me in the past few weeks of bouncing back and forth over the 250 pound mark. I realize that in the one month since my birthday, I have GAINED a pound.

That doesn't sound terrible, given the list of excuses above. But I stayed on Plan! I recorded every bite! I counted the Points and carefully measured and weighed every thing I put in my mouth! So how could I have gained?

Something my mom said the other week stuck with me. She was talking about how my grandmother was meeting with a doctor about bariatric surgery, and my mom was depressed because no doctor would consider her for the same surgery given her medical history. I started talking about Weight Watchers and my mom said she would never be able to stick to it because she'd cheat. If she wanted to eat something, she'd pretend like she forgot to write it down, or something similar.

That's when I started to think that maybe I'm doing the same thing. Even though I stay within my Points for the week, I have definitely gone back through and lowered Points on other days when I am running out of Points. Like, if I want a Cadbury Creme Egg, I'll go to yesterday's tracker and say "well, I tore the crust off of that bread so it was really more like 3/4 slice, and part of the ranch dressing dripped onto my plate so that's closer to 1 1/2 tablespoons..." So I cheat. I really tried not to, and I told myself I wasn't, but I cheat. Just like I cheat at Monopoly without intending to.

Once I admitted I was doing it, I tried to be more honest about my measurements. I think that's the TRUE reason I've been having trouble losing this month. I need to stop cheating the system, and be honest with myself. I mean...I'm only cheating myself, and that's no fun. Especially when I'm not even winning.

55 Pounds

Got another five pound star today at Weight Watchers!

I hit 55 pounds lost :) Down 2.4 this week, so I'm at 248.8 pounds now down from 304, for a total loss of 55.2 pounds.

I'm glad I'm back under 250 pounds. When I bounced around 249-252 for the past couple of weeks, I was getting pretty discouraged. I was so elated to get down under 250 pounds that I felt like a big failure when I gained again. Now I'm determined to stay under 250 pounds. I just don't want to go back there again.

I've also been failing at the 100 Mile March, but I don't feel as bad about that because, honestly, my stomach is still all crampy and I just don't feel like walking so even the little bit of walking I do at work feels like agony. I'm going to have to go to the doctor if things don't get back to normal soon.

All of that aside, I've been feeling pretty good this week. I went to the movies with my girlfriend, mom, and nephew on Saturday (To see Oz the Great and Powerful, which was totally fantastic! I'm not a huge James Franco fan, but I AM a HUGE Sam Raimi fan--I honestly think he's one of the most brilliant and underrated men in the movie industry--and I swooned to see Bruce Campbell! Bruce looked, well, disturbing as a Winkie, but to me he'll always be Autolycus from Xena and that makes me immensely happy!!!!!).

 God, I fucking love Sam Raimi and Bruce Campbell.

I heard that they started a Kickstarter for a Veronica Mars movie, which I didn't watch and don't care about. But I think someone should start a Kickstarter for Xena! Bring back Xena! That would be the most amazing fucking thing ever. It ended way too soon. I mean, Xena and Gabs didn't even officially hook up (unless you believe in fan fiction, which I DO...)

Anyway, I wore my new black cowboy boots (faux leather, of course) with black tights and a dress, and I felt super hot. We rode there in the convertible with the top down, and I felt like a sassy vixen :) At the movies, I crossed my legs comfortably and kept them crossed for most of the film...for anyone else with legs like giant toy water snakes, you know that's an accomplishment. My mom even told me I looked great, WITHOUT saying anything like "You're going to look as good as your sister soon!". That's a big deal for me.

Then on Tuesday...this is a big one...drumroll please...I wore REAL PANTS! Like, real, non-elastic, fastening and zipping pants! Granted, they're a size 24, but I didn't even try them on for the longest time. Wearing any kind of regular pants cut into my stomach and made so much of my fat roll over the top that I looked like a mushroom and I had to wear like three Spanx just to keep my stomach smooth enough to pull a shirt over so it just wasn't worth it at all. Hence my obsession with stretch pants and leggings. But as it turns out, I probably should have tried on the pants a few months ago because they were a little too big for me! So even my skinny pants are getting big :) That's got to be a good sign, right?

And today, after the success of my pants-wearing on Tuesday, I decided to try on my camouflage pants that I've had for over a decade but haven't been able to comfortably wear for the past six or so years. They fit! They totally fit! I'm wearing them right now :) And they fit so well that I'm wearing a fitted black cashmere sweater and there are no rolls in sight!

Tomorrow is my seven year anniversary, so I hope the good vibes continue. I still haven't lived up to my New Years Resolution to get frisky, but now that I'm starting to feel a little more like myself, maybe it's actually in the cards. Well, the gross yeast infection and stomach issues will more than likely stand in my way. But a girl can dream, can't she?

Gross Fat Girl Stuff

Time to talk about some gross stuff.

I've still been having serious bathroom issues...like, I haven't had a really good poop for a week. It's awful. I never thought I'd miss pooping so bad. My stomach is all cramped up. I even tried a fucking enema, for god's sake. It was the grossest thing that's ever happened to me. UGH. I'm still all blocked up. Which also means that I haven't lost any weight. I've stayed steady since last week (hovering right around 250-252) but I think if I could just go to the bathroom like a normal fucking person, I'd probably flush away five pounds or so. Yuuuuuuck.

Sadly, that's not the gross stuff I want to talk about.

I want to talk about...yeast. Specifically, yeast infections. More specifically...topical yeast infections.

I thought that losing weight would eliminate all of my infection problems, but obviously I'm still 250 pounds so my stomach fat still hangs down, so I STILL get nasty yeast infections. Not in my lady parts. Under my stomach. Raw, red, painful, burning, STINKING yeast infections.

I know when they're going to start because I can smell that smell. When I was in the hospital before my open heart surgery, I was really sick for a long time and I couldn't drag myself to the shower so I would just kind of wipe myself down (okay, aside from that one against-my-will sponge bath that scarred me for life). After a few weeks of not really bathing, I started smelling it. That gross, sickly sweet smell that's like no other smell on earth. The kind of smell that, once it enters your nose, doesn't leave for hours.

So I'm really self conscious about it. I'm a fanatical baby powder user. I pat every fold and roll with baby powder pretty much every day, and I never go outside and sweat without some baby powder dusted between my legs and under my boobs. But this morning I smelled that smell, and I knew I had an infection. I lifted my stomach and saw that angry red shiny skin. I wiped it with some tissue paper and it was wet with infection seeping out. I wiped again and the pain was so sharp and raw that I had to stop. I just coated myself with baby powder and then, when the powder immediately became wet over the wound, I rubbed triple antibiotic ointment into it and then patted on more baby powder.

While I'm sitting here I can feel it. It's gross and it hurts. It smells. It makes me feel dirty. It makes me feel nasty.

And more than anything, it makes me feel anxious for the day that I've lost enough weight that I don't have to lift my stomach to powder under my rolls.

Speaking of which, weigh-in tomorrow is not going to be fun tomorrow unless I manage to go to the bathroom. Fingers crossed.

The Elephant In The Bathroom

I can no longer say I'm under 250 pounds--my weight bounced back up for a few days and I was at 251.6 at Wednesday's weigh-in.

However...I think I'm back down to 248 or so today, and hopefully still coming down.

This is really embarrassing but I feel like I need to defend myself for getting back over 250 pounds.

I think I was full...of...poop. There, I said it.

My stomach hurt for a couple days, and I was feeling really, really bloated by Monday night. I realized that I hadn't been going to the restroom like my usual, "regular" self (if you know what I mean). So I tried to figure out what was going on, and I remembered that my girlfriend had brought home a box of Fiber One Chocolate Chip Brownies the week before, and I LOVED them. They're only 2 Points each! Amazing!

They're great for breakfast! And they're great with 1 Point worth of whipped cream on top!

And I loved them SO MUCH that I ate two the first night she brought them home.

Then I ate two more the next day.

Then I finished the box. She bought two more boxes...

And then I ate four Fiber One bars in one day.

I mean, that's only eight Points...but that's a LOT of Fiber One bars! Too much of anything is bad, fiber included. Since my regular diet is already pretty high in fiber, I'm afraid I caused some kind of blockage.

See? Embarrassing.

Tuesday night I decided to try an Epsom salt laxative. I mixed two teaspoons of Epsom salt into a cup of water with lemon juice and gulped it down. It was totally gross. Then I waited...and waited...and nothing happened. Seriously. I've never taken a laxative in my life so I didn't know what to expect, but after a few hours I started looking online for people saying Epsom salt didn't work for them. Turns out, if it doesn't work, your colon is probably completely stopped up and you require surgery. I was then 100% convinced that I was suffering from severe fecal impaction and I was going to die. I did NOT want to die from SHIT!

But I didn't want to deal with going to the hospital and missing work (especially after being sick and missing work last week) so I just hoped the Epsom salt would work its magic overnight.

Nope.

By the time I weighed in at Weight Watchers on Wednesday, I felt like a blimp had been inflated inside my abdomen. It was awful. So I was not surprised at all that I had gained weight. (Well, I'd also been watching my weight like a hawk on my stupid scale ever day...stupid fucking scale.)

Wednesday night, my girlfriend brought me home some Milk of Magnesia. I downed four tablespoons and waited. I made dinner and, while it was cooking, I stretched out and poked and prodded at my stomach. I was able to feel my hips and ribs and possibly some organs, which was nice after shedding my 50 pound layer of fat. When dinner was ready, I got about three quarters of the way through eating when I finally jumped up and ran to the bathroom.

I weighed myself afterwards and I was down to 249 pounds again. Whew! Tonight, I'm at 248. I think I could still use a little, erm, "cleaning out"...but at least I don't feel like such a big bloated lump anymore.

I haven't walked for a few days, and my hopes of making it through the 100 Mile March have pretty much vanished. I do want to see how far I can get, though. The treadmill is calling my name. Well, more like whispering, but I'll take it.

And I'll try to hold back on the Fiber One bars.

One Foot In Front Of The Other

It really doesn't look like my 100 Mile March is going to get anywhere close to 100 miles.

I've walked every day so far since March 1...and I just barely made it to 1 mile. One single mile.

That's 1 mile TOTAL.

In four days.

Walking every day.

I SUCK!

Okay, I was really sick all last week and stayed home from work for two days and whatever I had moved into my lungs and now I'm coughing up wicked phlegm and can't breathe.

Plus, I haven't walked in forever. I haven't been on a treadmill since before my open heart surgery, losing an entire functioning valve, and decreasing my lung capacity by around 50%.

And, you know, I'm actually pretty proud that I've walked every day so far. Even though I've felt like shit. And even though the treadmill is set on 2 miles per hour and I can only walk for 2 minutes before stopping to hit my inhaler. And even though the most I've walked at a single time is .25 miles, and even though I have 98.93 miles left to go this month if I actually want to do the 100 Mile March. Because I'm actually trying--sure, it's only a few minutes at a time, but it's more than I was doing before.

(Oh, I've also gained four pounds since my last weigh-in two weeks ago, so I'm nervous about Wednesday. But I'm super bloated and menstruating and I'm basically a walking phlegm factory, so maybe enough bodily fluids will leave my body by Wednesday to at least keep me from gaining weight at my Weight Watcher's meeting. We shall see.)

This is going to be one loooooong March.

SICK

I am sick.

I HATE being sick.

I was so sick that I actually stayed home from work yesterday, and then I left after about 3 hours today. Ugh. More time sitting on the couch.

Being sick is sucky in general, but I really REALLY hate the food cravings I get when I'm sick. When my throat hurts, I want to stuff my face with milkshakes. When I have a fever, I want to load up on stuff like buttery crackers and bread. When I'm sick to my stomach, Sprite is the only thing that does the trick (and none of that Diet Sprite crap).

Being home alone with a full fridge and stocked pantry is very difficult. I've really tried to make sure we have plenty of healthy snack options, but when I'm home sick I can make anything unhealthy. I've been mixing whipped cream with hot cocoa mix, and stirring actual peanuts and Hershey's syrup into peanut butter. I can't stop myself.

I'm hoping this dose of NyQuil will knock me out so I can stop eating. I missed weigh-in yesterday and I would hate to go to Weight Watchers next week and find that I gained 15 pounds.

At least I think I've lost a pound or so of mucus...ewwww....

Under 250 Pounds...FINALLY!

 

I did it! I am under 250 pounds for the first time in around five years!

This is the best birthday present EVER!!!

I actually took today off for my birthday, but I had my girlfriend bring me to work briefly so I could weigh in at Weight Watchers. I knew I had lost this week (according to my lovely new scale, at least) but I wanted a concrete number before I went out for lunch. I needed to decide if I should have a margarita...well, I'm glad I went because I ordered a large margarita and didn't feel bad about it at all :)

I was down 3.2 for the week, for a grand total of 54.8 pounds lost. That brings me down to 249.2 (from my starting weight of 304 on August 8th, 2012).

I was afraid I would never be under 250 pounds again. For so long, I just assumed that I would always be over the maximum weight limit for everything--lawn chairs, step ladders, inflatable rafts, hammock chairs, ziplines. Now I can officially zipline! I can sit in a lawn chair without feeling like it's going to immediately crumble under my weight! This is AWESOME!

Since my Weight Watcher's goal weight was set at 250, it was time for me to pick a new goal. I thought about 243 because that will be a loss of 20% from my starting weight, but I want to be a little more ambitious (without going too wild!). I set it at 225 pounds. That doesn't feel so far away right now, which is why I think it's a good goal, but it's also a LOT mentally.

I haven't been 225 pounds since the summer I graduated high school. I was at 230 pounds at graduation, started the Atkins diet while I was killing time before college, and I got down to just over 210 pounds. Then college started and, well, the Freshman Fifteen hit me hard. I fluctuated between 220 and 240 for years. If I can get under 225 again, I feel like I can go all the way :)

Oh, and today I saw the girl who inspired me to start Weight Watchers--she hit 125 pounds lost! Hey, I'm almost halfway there!