So I've been silent (blog wise) for a while. I tend not to know what to write and we don't have much besides our pets. For the most part if you post tons of pictures of your pets people think there's something wrong with you (so I don't).
Anyway, I went in for my annual physical today....which is a great big annoyance to me! I get very apprehensive about the whole thing. The last time I went in for a physical (which was more than a year ago), the doctor said after telling me I needed to lose weight "You don't want to get diabetes do you?". Well obviously not but really being bullied after I've been super vulnerable with someone I don't know is very upsetting. Sitting in a gown on a table with my legs spread wide for all to see is just not my idea of a good time! I'm particularly squeamish about that stuff (just ask roommates, officemates, friends, family, etc etc). Last year, I almost left that office crying to be honest, because my weight is something I've always struggled with. It's particularly frustrating because both of my parents are skinny people and haven't had much trouble managing their weight. I, however must have either been someone else's child that was switched at the hospital or I got some recessive genes from somewhere in the mix (the latter being more likely). From the time I started Junior high until now I've struggled to maintain a weight that's healthy for my frame. Right now I'm about 50/55 lbs over what I should be at 217lbs. (That's right I'm going to be brave and just throw it out there!).
Weight is such an emotional issue for me. I can date back my relationship with food to several parts of my life which I should be over by now but the struggle is still there. My first experience with food on my own happened when I would go visit my mother on the weekends shortly after my parents seperation and subsequent divorce at age 7. During this time she had started drinking pretty heavily. Our normal routine for her weekends woulld be to pick me up at 6 or so on Friday nights. We'd stop at the grocery store and she would get me whatever I wanted to eat (which was usually junk food including ice cream). She would do her own thing all weekend and I would do mine. At 7 I was making my own breakfast, lunch and dinner and not eating well at all. This didn't really matter too much given that I was only there every other weekend for a few days. So given the oppourtunity as a kid I showed a propensity for choosing the wrong kind of food and there wasn't an adult to fix this for me. (My mother was drunk and not focused at all on making sure I was ok). This continued on and when my mother moved across the country when I was in 5th grade I would spent summers with her and continued similar eating habits with an occasional good meal made by mother or step-father (but very occasional).
Coupled with this I was a pretty awkward kid. By the time I got to junior high school I could not think of anything I hated more than gym class. Some of the most awkward moments of school for me came as I got continually pummeled and made fun of during class (again probably warrants another post). As a result of these times in my life I have a deep hate of exercise and looking like a goof ball while I'm exercising. I have tried many times during my life to start working out (in college with Tiff, several times after graduation) and I always get started and quit for some reason or another.
I'm trying desperately to get to a place where I'm not struggling and it becomes an automatic part of my life to exercise and to not eat a huge serving of ice cream as an appetizer for dinner (yes I've done that and no I'm not proud!).
So about two weeks ago my husband and I got Iphones (probably deserves another post). They have an App on there where you can track your calorie intake, exercise and weight. I have in earnest started tracking (going on two weeks now of tracking more than not). I also quit drinking coke (which if you know me is huge!) and I switched to half-caff for coffee in the morning. The first week of this was aweful. That Friday I went home and crashed because I just couldn't think anymore. I also joined curves and have been to my first three visits (which is also amazing for me!)
The Dr.'s visit today was awkward as always but I think I may have an even more convicing reason to stick with it this time. The Dr. mentioned that some of the symptoms I mentioned (not all of which I'm going to mention here), lead her to believe that I might have PolyCystic Ovarian Syndrome. This syndrome by itself isn't dangerous (I'm not dying so don't get worked up) but it's an imbalance of hormones caused by small cysts on ovaries. At it's worst it can lead to more susceptability to heart disease and diabetes and the thing that caught my attention even more was infertility. Some of the other symptoms give answers for so many other things that I've struggled with that I'm happy to have something to call it but also scared about not being able to have children. I'm hoping that by finally getting my weight under control the other stuff will reverse itself, but only time will tell.
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