akr9911
I don't think my story is very interesting at all. I grew up in a quiet middle-class, suburban home with my parents who are still married and a younger sister who had Down Syndrome. I recall mealtime being very very stressful when I was young. Dad was always slapping elbows off the table, ironic for someone with some of the worst table manners around. And Mom was a food nazi, for herself and for me. She's in her late 70s now and can still tell you what everyone in the room ate for their meal, editorializing all the way. It's taken me a long time to tune her out, but I don't think you can ever tune that out completely.
Today I am 46 years old. My husband and I met almost 5 years ago and have been married for about 3 1/2 years now. Last fall we adopted a beautiful baby girl at birth and I can honestly say that my 40s have been the best time of my life as I've found deep abiding love and joy that I haven't known in so long. When I met DH, I had quit my job and was trying to find myself. And I found myself in the gym working out like a banshee and being very restrictive on food - I eliminated all gluten from my diet which was a good thing I think but in the long run I oculdn't maintain that. I dropped from a high weight of 252 to a low weight of 203... just missed Onederland. And then DH came along and for a while I was able to bring him with me along the journey. We were both in excellent shape and we were looking and feeling great. And then I went back to work, and it got harder to work out 15 hours a week. And then we got engaged, and the stress of planning a wedding began to creep in and I began to treat myself with food a little too often. And then we were asked to adopt the unborn child of a friend of a friend, and I celebrated with food. And then the adoption failed, and I comforted myself with food and sunk into a depression. And then the adoption process dragged on and I wondered if I'd ever be a mom as the scale headed northward. And then I tried to go GF again, and it worked to maintain my already too high weight. And then I slunk back into old habits and my friend gluten, and there went the scale. And then my child came into this world and into my arms, and all time to focus on me was gone. So today I am back to where I began, I might add again. The scale says 255, and I'm seriously worried about my health not only for me now but for my family.
I want to be a good role model for my daughter, and I want to be around to see her grow up, to help her grow up. I am lucky in that I have no known co-morbidities. No diabetes, yet. No sleep apnea, yet. Normal blood pressure. But I know I'm lucky and that my luck will run out soon, particularly if I keep up this current lifestyle.
I am so successful in every other area of my life. Why can I not succeed in this?
