My Why

There’s a sign at my Weight Watcher’s branch that says “Keep your Why Close by”. Whenever I’ve seen it the last 5 weigh in’s, I have wanted to, but hesitated in, writing down my why, putting it on pen and paper and letting it be an inspiration and reminder of why I’m doing this. I didn’t want to get too emotional about something as factual as a number on a scale. But if 1 person sees this and it makes them write, or talk about their why, and thus helps them on their weight loss/mental health journey, it will be worth it.

Why am I doing this? Going from my Starting weight of 163 to 130(ish). I think there’d be more reasons why I’m not going to do it. So I can look in the mirror and not cringe and look at myself in disgust.  I know, people say that all the time, they don’t like looking in mirrors. I refuse to. Looking at myself in the sideview mirror of a car is enough to bring me to tears or a panic attack, so I don’t look in those mirrors either.

Why am I doing this? So there’s never a repeat of January 22nd 2016, where I stepped on the scale, told my mom not to tell me what it said (as usual) and then for some reason wanted to know. She wouldn’t tell me so I stepped on again and read for myself. 163. I was floored. I had a full blown panic attack, screaming, yelling, hyperventilating and asking everyone in the house “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME I WAS FAT???? WHY???

I reduced my mother to tears when she tried to hug me and i told her through my tears that I didn’t deserve a hug. I simply did not know how much i weighed. I had refused to let anyone tell me for about 3 years. At 7 years old I began taking medicines, one after another, to try and help alleviate my anxiety and depression. Nothing worked. One made me gain 20 pounds at the age of 10. Food became a pattern for me, and when I was sad my father would buy me a soft serve treat with candy mixed in at either Weinerschnitzel or McDonald’s, three times a week was the norm. I felt like crap on the inside, I didn’t care how I looked on the outside or so I thought. On January 22nd 2016, I thought I was still 120 when I stepped on the scale.

Why? So I never have to ask anyone if I am fat again. So i can smile at myself in the mirror (it seems laughable, having this goal right now). To be able to not suffocate my arms, to be able to wear tank tops and shorts, and maybe even a bikini!

Why? Because I feel like this could be a catalyst to help other areas in my life. Exercising daily which is proven to be good for depression but I find it hard to do, this is my motivation, my why. Eating better, here is my why. Feeling better about myself, here we go, this is a concrete change. Something healthy for my diagnosed O.C.D to focus on.

Why? To prove to myself, that I am more than a size, a number, a letter. That I am stronger than, and worth more than self-harm, attempted suicide, and mentally beating myself up and penalizing myself for my past mistakes, current mistakes, and mistakes
I fear i will make in the future.

To prove to myself that I am worth allowed and deserve to be happy and to have good things because right now, I just don’t believe it.

 

 

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