Beginning "The After"

I haven't always struggled with my weight. I was a pretty average kid - although I was taller and broader in the shoulders. I was never skinny, though.

I started gaining weight during my senior year of high school, after I started taking antidepressants. I gained weight rapidly, jumping as much as 15 pounds in two weeks. I was just over 200 pounds by the time I turned 19.

My weight steadied after I weaned off the meds, but I started having some mental and emotional issues again, and I was diagnosed with bipolar 2 when I was 21. I began taking a new regimen of prescription medications - 6, to be exact. I ballooned up to 250.

When I was 22, I got pregnant with my oldest son, Jett. By the time he was a month old, I was happily 230 - a lovely 20 pounds below my pre-pregnancy weight. I thought that this weight loss could be the beginning of a whole new road for me. I felt great! I was fitting into clothes that I hadn't worn for years. People were commenting on how great I looked. I had this incredible energy - probably a bit of a new baby bliss, combined with the thrill of losing weight. I felt like I could really do this - I could really make some changes.

I forgot about one thing, though - making those positive changes. My weight loss was largely due to fluid loss. I retained a lot of fluid during the end of my pregnancy due to PIH (pregnancy induced hypertension), and the fluid kept coming off for a few weeks after he was born. I had gestational diabetes during pregnancy, so I followed a very strict carb-controlled diet during pregnancy. Once he was born, I compensated for months of restraint by drinking all the Coke I could handle and eating potatoes and other carbs like they were going out of style. In addition to this poor diet, I wasn't really exercising regularly, even though I did have all this extra energy. I was also, once again, taking an antidepressant, which has proven in the past to contribute to my weight gain. So, I regained it all, and then some. By Jett's first birthday, I was 270 pounds - the very same weight I was in my 39th week of pregnancy.

I stayed around that weight until I got pregnant with our second boy, Dax. Now, 9 months after his birth, I'm once again hovering around the 270 mark (although I haven't weighed myself in a few weeks).

I can't remember how many times I've had these epiphanies over the past few years. I'll lay in bed crying, telling myself that tomorrow will be a new day. Tomorrow, I'll finally join Weight Watchers, or Curves, or something. I'll vow to make those changes and lose the weight. A lot of my chronic pain issues will be drastically reduced, or maybe even eliminated. My migraines might be less frequent. I might even see my mental and emotional issues get better in the process. I'll have the energy to play with my kids, and I'll set a good example for them and teach them healthy lifestyle habits. I'll add years to my life so I might get to see my grandchildren grow up.

Then, tomorrow comes, and I throw it all away. I tell myself that it's just too hard right now. I have too much on my plate, what with a nursing 9 month old and an almost 3 year old with speech delays. I'll wait until life "slows down" a little bit.

Well, I think I'm finally getting ready to do this, and I'm hoping that keeping up this blog will help me. I'm asking you, my reader/s - whoever you are and however few you are - to help me by reading my blog and commenting when you can. I think that accountability is a big part of this. I'm hoping that if I know people will read and follow here, I'll have some extra incentive to keep it up.

I'll be adding more about my specific methods in later posts. Thanks for reading, and please do keep coming back.