All week my scale was registering 0 pounds lost. Then this morning…3 pounds gone. I’m not complaining. I just wasted a lot of time this week worrying for nothing. At least I didn’t give up.
Again my commitment to the treadmill workouts is stronger than my commitment to P90X, but I got done 7 workouts total (plus another hour of snow-shoveling, ugh). And I ate well. I planned EVERY meal and snack and stuck to the plan, even when I was away from home. That’s what’s caused most of the success. In a few minutes I’m going to write out my meal plan for the coming week and hit the grocery store. The Eagles are out of the playoffs, so who cares about the games today?
I’m happy I’m losing weight but I still have Stay Home Syndrome. I hid from some invitation texts and calls this weekend. I don’t want to go out with a bunch of thin people and see the looks on their faces when I take off my coat to expose the massiveness that is me. I quit my job almost 5 months ago; I know If I went out with my previous co-workers they’d expect me to have lost some weight by now. I hate being introduced to new people and watching their eyes travel up and down over my rolls. I definitely don’t want any more pictures of me tagged on Facebook. My profile photos are neck up. People who haven’t seen me since high school don’t need to know what I’ve done to myself. But I can’t hide from it…I’m fat. And I don’t like it.
I could just get new fat friends so I individually don’t stand out as much, but that won’t help me in the dressing room when even the BIG pants don’t fit. Or on the airplane when I overlap my seat. Or in the classroom when I worry that I’ll break my chair.
I actually have had the chair fear for a long time. I’m constantly afraid that one day my chair at work or at school won’t be able to take it anymore, and I’ll hit the floor while everybody laughs at me (either out loud or worse, internally). I bought a folding beach chair for New Orleans Jazz Fest last April that said “Guaranteed up to 215 pounds.” I was 220. I was so nervous about breaking the chair that I would only sit for a few minutes at a time. Then I’d get up and move around to give its little aluminium legs a rest. I was so glad that it didn’t break, that I brought the $15 chair back home with me on the airplane instead of leaving it behind, just to reward the chair for its loyalty.
I’m not sure when I’ll be cured of Stay Home Syndrome and will resume a normal social life. Maybe once I can wear size 16 clothes again. Size 20 is just…so…big. Until then, I will still spend time with my thin friends, but I’ll fight the fear and paranoia that builds up in me making me want to stay in my protected little