Barking Mad

Fighting Fear and Food

Not much to say.   I'm ashamed.

I'm pretty sure Gareth might suspect something is going on because the ugly rash around my eyes, lips, sides of my mouth, and chin is back.  I threw away the nasty Rx I was given for it last year because it burned my skin and the healing part was almost as bad as the rash itself.

I don't even know what to say so I'll just be honest.

I've been hiding food and when everyone is asleep, I'm eating and then making myself sick.

I thought I was over it.  I thought I wasn't going to ever do that again, but I got really frustrated at how slowly the pounds are coming off, and the stress of the foreclosure, not having any money, and being hyper-sensitive about my weight, and finally, not being able to control anything - so trying to control what ends up staying in my body...well - well I don't have to tell you about the ugliness that's crept back into my life.

I got scared when I started to think about the weight actually coming off...for real.  I started to think about that secret that's been eating me alive for a long time and what if this person begins to find me attractive again?  I can forgive the man who killed my son, but I can't bring myself to forgive the man who took advantage of me when I was a kid.   I feel like forgiving him would be condoning what he did.   If I shed this weight, he'll look at my body again.  I can still feel hands, eyes, looking...touching.  The remembrance of how awful that felt makes the bile rise in my throat, yet it makes me want to shove it down with more food to try and push the pain, and the memories away.

The self-loathing and hatred is pretty bad at this point, despite the fact that I'm only purging maybe three or four times a week at most, and never ever  when Gaby or Gareth is awake.  And I'm not eating everything in sight.  A Coke, and some popcorn, or a turkey sandwich with chips and a Coke. Then another Coke.   It's so late at night though, when I eat, that I know it won't come off.  So I get rid of it and then do as many sit ups as quietly as I can, until the tears from the pain in my sides and stomach force me to stop.

I went months and months without even thinking about purging.   I could finally use my toothbrush without it gagging me and some of the scars on my knuckles were starting to fade.   All of that progress has been destroyed because I can't control the fear that is eating me alive.

I'm sorry.  So many of you have called me an inspiration, but when push comes to shove, I fall back into the old patterns of letting the inner bullies push me around and call the shots.

Back to square one I guess.

 

 

Constructive Destruction - Finding a Phoenix Amongst the Ashes

I Want to be The Biggest Loser

I have applied to be a contestant on NBC's The Biggest Loser. 

I am morbidly obese enough, and to such a degree, to make me an ideal candidate for The Biggest Loser.

OH.MY.GOD.

I don't believe I'm actually putting this out here for my tens of readers - and well OK, the probably one thousand or so more that I emailed and asked for support, encouragement, prayers, and wishes for good luck.

The actual decision to do this was made a while ago; the day I sat on the toilet seat and it broke and ended up breaking open a damn of anger and feelings I have, for too long, buried. 

For those who follow me on Facebook, you already knew that I was going to apply for the show.  For some reason it wasn't as hard to admit it out there (probably because I know that as someone who posts status updates like, "...thinks she could definitely meet her weight loss goal if she had to pedal to use her computer." and "...just read a list of 100 Things to do Before You Die' and was surprised that 'yell for help' wasn't one of them!" that there aren't too many people reading what I have to say anyhow!), but putting the words down here...well it's been difficult, to say the least. 

I've worried almost incessantly about what you'd think of me if you knew there was more to me than just the floating head-shots that I post...that are all I ever post! 

Like this...

 

...and this...

 

Or even this one...

 

I have never, ever, online anywhere, posted a full-length body shot of myself.  Especially not out here in Bloggywood where, on the rare occasion, the catty-ness level surpasses that found on The Real Housewives of New Jersey/Orange County/New York/Atlanta.

Being a photographer, I know how to tilt my head and angle the camera in order to not capture my four bulging chins and my neck encased in so much adipose tissue as to make it barely discernible as neck.  I wear enough make-up to put a clown to shame and I spend a lot of time arranging my hair so that it hides as much of my face-fat, as possible.  I don't PhotoShop pictures of myself, but I certainly don't put enough out there to show how really big I am. 

Living With the Constant Fear of Being Rejected Because of How I Look

Up until now I've been in abject fear of the reaction and the disgust.  It's one of the biggest reasons I became a recluse and refuse to go to any sort of conventions like BlogHer, Blissdom, Mom 2.0 or any of the other ones. It's also the reason I do my grocery shopping as late as possible - so I don't have to deal with the stares of all the people, looking at what the really fat lady put into her shopping cart.  I didn't want to see the shocked and horrified expressions on your face when you finally meet me face to face. Until recently I've been so completely consumed by worry over what everyone would think of me. 

As women, we judge one another so harshly and often times we are so cruel to one another because of how we look.  I didn't want the friendships I've formed out here, some very close, to dissolve because I was not the person you'd built me up, in your head, to be.  Because I've been living through fear-tinted windows for a very long time, I didn't realize how these thoughts did a huge disservice to all of you...the people I'm afraid to meet and interact with.

A Very Heavy Burden

Let's be honest...you all know I've been candid about my issues surrounding my weight, especially the struggles I've had with it since The Very Bad Thing happened more than two years ago.  You know that as a result of that, I developed an eating disorder, bulimia.  Despite being bulimic, I still managed to gain 125+lbs [on an already morbidly obese frame] in less than two years time.  Obviously, bulimia was more of a control tool than what I had insanely thought it could be...a means to lose weight, or at the very least, help keep me from gaining more weight.  In the end, it just made me sicker and helped shove me deeper into the abyss of depression I was drowning in.  The bulimia was controlling me...not the other way around. 

Although The Very Bad Thing was one of the worst, most devastating, humiliating, demeaning and foul things I have ever been through, it opened up wounds that had never really closed and forced me to deal with them.  Going through what I did in the aftermath of TVBT nearly destroyed me in almost every way possible. In dealing with other hurts and issues from my past, I was forced to tear away the veneer of the past twenty years, and really deal with what was eating me and in turn, making me eat. With the help of a wonderful psychiatric team, I have been doing the work of tearing myself down so that I could prepare to build myself up again.

Over the past three years out here, I have laid bare the deepest wounds and scars on my heart and soul...the loss of my two-year-old son, Joshua.  What I haven't told you is that while I was merely overweight after his birth, and then the subsequent birth of my twins (who were only six months old when I lost Joshua), after he died, I went into a tailspin that left me eating nearly everything in sight, rather than grieving for my son.  It was so bad in fact, and started so early after his death, that I remember very vividly driving from Joshua's burial to the wake and thinking about the food that had been catered by good friends of ours; thinking about how I couldn't wait to eat and eat eat...It was far easier to think about food than it was to think about laying that precious little boy in the ground. So I buried myself in food, and in turn, in fat. 

I Insulated myself with mounds and mounds of food.  It was more than comforting.  It was a friend who wouldn't leave me, wouldn't die on me. I wouldn't have to bury it and mourn it's loss or absence in my life. 

I didn't grieve Joshua's death...rather, I ate. And ate, and ate. 

From the moment Joshua died, I blamed myself. I think, on some level, I also thought that all the eating would put an early end to my pain and I'd sooner, rather than later, be with my son again and be there for him the way I obviously had failed to do the night he died. In doing so, I've been dying a slow and horrible death.  Very simply put, for almost twenty years, I have been slowly and methodically burying myself alive under all of this fat. 

However...the old me is under there, dying to be the new me!  She's there...can you see her?

 

I am Giving Myself Permission to Live Again

That's all changing though!  The day I sat down on the toilet seat and it broke under the strain of my weight was the day I began to live again. It was the day I finally got angry and said ENOUGH! 

It was the day I broke, into a million little pieces and cried, and yelled and screamed for everything I've lost.  I broke myself so that I could mend myself.

It was the day I decided I wanted to live, genuinely wanted to live! 

It was the day I told myself that no more were people going to tell me, to my face, that I had such a pretty face but was too fat to be truly beautiful!

It was the day that I saw myself not solely as a morbidly obese woman, but saw the real person I am inside...the wife who adores and loves her husband, the mother who strives to make amends for past mistakes and works very hard to prove that she's worthwhile as a parent!

It was the day that I took all of my clothes off and looked in the mirror...actually looked at myself and saw the woman buried deep inside, begging to be let out in order to live her life and prove that she's more than just a mound of jiggling flesh, packed tightly into unattractive clothing, hidden under hundreds of excess pounds!  

It was the day that I decided hiding from the rest of the world in an effort to avoid the cruel snickers and accusing stares wasn't doing me any good and that in order to live in the world, I needed to start living in the world!

It was the day that I decided to make good on my promise to Gareth that I'd give New York a chance, and the people of our new little town, and start to integrate myself into society once more.

It was the day I finally gave myself permission to love myself again and to live my life and celebrate the person that I am and never ever let another human being make me feel less-than for being more-than what is considered ideal or perfect!

It was the day I decided to love myself enough to take care of myself!

**********

I choose The Biggest Loser because I know it will give me the best chance at reclaiming my life in a manner which I'll find comforting.  Yeah, I know...how can parading around, with my flab hanging out, in a sports bra and bike shorts, on national TV, being weighed weekly in front of millions of viewers, be comforting?   

I'll be there with other people, waging the same war, under similar burdens who have traveled their own roads that led them to the place where they realized they needed to make some intense and extreme changes in order to reclaim ownership of their lives, and stop living to eat and start eating to live! I know I'm up to the challenge and I'm so ready for the hard work.  I also know that I can't do it alone...that I need help, I need to be pushed and I need guidance from people who know what they're doing and have proven it time and time again.  It gives me added incentive to reach out to the folks at The Biggest Loser because our personal health insurance coverage doesn't so much as cover anything remotely connected to weight loss.

All of this brings me full circle...to you, my readers and friends.  I'm asking for your support and encouragement.  I'm asking you to stand behind me as I move forward and reclaim what I've let others take from me, and what I've given away freely...my life.  I fully intend on at least getting in front of the show's producers and going through whatever paces they put me through.  I hope that you'll all be there with me, cheering me on as I work hard to enjoy the life I've been so richly blessed with.  When I first started working on the application for the show and thinking about my video submission, I thought, "What the hell, I've got nothing to lose!"  But see, I do...I have everything to lose - my life if I don't do it, and all this weight if I do, do it.

And yeah...I don't just want to be on The Biggest Loser...I WANT TO BE THE BIGGEST LOSER!

  

P.S. To follow my adventures (keeping my fingers crossed that I get chosen for season 10 of The Biggest Loser), you can follow me on Twitter ... Barking_Mad

 

Feeling Good, Despite Feeling Like I Have ADD

Photo by me

"Birds flying high
You know how I feel
Sun in the sky
You know how I feel
Breeze driftin' on by
You know how I feel
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me..
And I'm feeling good....

There are so many things that I have been wanting to post about but so far they remain as half-written posts in a burgeoning draft folder that more resembles a bird cage, packed with hundreds of brightly colored birds - some a little darker than others whilst some so bright that they are almost blinding.  Vivid violet parakeets and navy blue nightingales all beating their wings at the bars of the cage with nary a single space left between them.   That's a little how it feels to be in my head right now too. 

...Fish in the sea
You know how I feel
River running free
You know how I feel
Blossom in the trees
You know how I feel
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me...
And I'm feeling good....

So much going on and I can't slow it all down long enough to sort it out and just let it flow into cohesive words that form sentences and paragraphs. 

The thing is, I feel like I'm starting to see shreds of light at the end of the tunnel.  It's far into the distance but it is there.  I have to squint to see it sometimes, but it's there dammit!  I feel it deep inside my soul.  For the first time in a long time, I feel it.  Despite other people in my line of sight trying to blot it out, I see it.  Despite nagging fears and feelings of self-loathing, I see it.  I am fighting hard to not let go of it. 

...Dragonfly out in the sun
You know what I mean, don't you know
Butterflies all out having fun
You know what I mean
Sleep in peace
When, the this day is done
And this old world
Is a new world
And a bold world
For me...

On that note, can I ask a favor of you? 

Please be patient with me whilst I begin the process of sorting out all of this and start dealing with..., well - me.   My posts might be dense with substance and emotion or light and airy - sort of like my brain sometimes.  The point is, I'm just beginning to feel again and it's an overwhelming process.  But to begin the hard work of healing, I must feel these things.  I have to allow myself to feel them.  Some of them aren't pretty and are from the foul bowel of the hell I've been living in.

I have a lot of work ahead of me.  If I want to survive, and please believe me when I say I do, if I want to spend the next years living that dream I had, rather than spending it wondering how long until I actually sit in that icy cold bathtub full of water and do what I very nearly did last year, or continue to stick my finger down my throat until my heart and my body simply can not keep pace with the destruction, then this hard work of putting myself back together, must be done.

This "feeling good" thing is very new to me.  Some days it's not there, but some it is and I  am just barely in the embryonic stages of it.  I still have to give myself permission to feel good, to feel positive and to feel this fleeting sense of hope; hope that I will survive and come out of this - whole, and well and healthy. 

Even on the days recently when I haven't been completely "feelin' it" there is still that glimmering strand of light that I see in the distance.  I just have to keep reaching it and believing that I deserve my place in the light.

...Stars when you shine
You know how I feel
Scent of the pine
You know how I feel
yeah, freedom is my lie
When you know how I feel
It's a new dawn
It's a new day
It's a new life
For me..."

The below video is Muse performing one of my favorite songs, "Feeling Good" (the lyrics above) live at Wembley Stadium in the UK.  It's a cover, and I can't recall who originally wrote and sang the song, but this is by far my favorite version.  I plan on heading out today for a little bit to do something for Jan and I am going to blast this song, police be damned.  And for those of you who follow me on Twitter and Facebook, you'll know what I'm talking about.

This is my anthem!