Its finally happened. The pivotal moment in my life where I’m no longer “chunky” or “thick” or even satisfied with myself for that matter. I look like crap, my hips and lower back are taking a hit, I am now tipping the scale at well… let’s just say the 35 pounds I needed to lose before? Well I now have the weight of another small child to lose.
I’m in the right place though. What better place to find out you’ve put on a ton of weight but at your family doctor? I’m only marginally freaked out because I take comfort in the fact that someone will guide me down the path of weight loss or even diagnose a problem that has nothing to do with chips and Pepsi or my refusal to leave the house for days at a time. My doctor is African surely he understands the complexity of weight and the African American women’s body. Even the doctor I’m seeing today is of color, not my color but a minority nontheless so she will address this dramatic weight gain.
Sadly my hopefulness is quickly diminished. Its Friday. Frazzled nerves and the desire to clock out is what I deal with. I’m there for a med adjustment for bipoler affective disorder and that is all I will be treated for. She doesn’t even pretend to examine me further. Even though I tell her that I’ve been off of my meds for awhile she attributes them to my weight gain. In less then ten minutes she has me set up with another round of ineffective medications.
I am more than disappointed. There is no need to complain. I need to take action not only in finding another doctor, a licensed psychiatrist, but also getting my weight under control.
Its Monday. My nerves are already on edge due to lack of sleep and in anticipation of starting a new routine. This is one of my bad days. The type of day where my anxiety level is high because I feel like I’m suffocating. This is a day that I’ll probably cry for no reason or throw a tantrum just for the hell of it.
Prior to this I made some plans. I’ve decided I’m going to walk at least 2 miles and start a detox. Great plan. Only….
I filled my prescription for Ambien but never took them. I tossed and turned all 2 hours of my night.
I can’t find my ear buds which is almost tear inducing. At 6 AM I destroy my whole bedroom and living room on a quest to find my favorite (and in my OCDish mind the only worthy of using) ear buds. I need them to complete this walk but more importantly to shut Monday morning out. After all of that I find my beloved Samsung white ear buds tucked safely away in my cross body bag where they always are.
It dawns on me that I have no diet food and 6 dollars to my name. Dieting is never cheap. Six bucks won’t even buy me the ingredients for a salad.
I grab “breakfast” from the corner store and now its raining.
If today is indication, the gift of — pounds will continue giving. I need a miracle and some motivation.