Reasons I Put On Weight Over The Years

If I could give someone advice on losing weight, I would start with this:

Losing weight is no fairy tale. There is no prince, money, sunshine and roses, unicorns, talking animals, nor fancy dresses waiting for you at the end (unless you buy yourself some, of course). All there is, is you. You are the only contributor to whether you succeed or fail in this journey, in this life. You are the only thing that stops you and the only thing that keeps you going. You decide whether or not to get up after falling down. And once you realize that, success is yours for the taking.

It took me years to realize this. For years I "dieted"or tried to make myself better for reasons other than myself: to get a boyfriend, so I could be part of the "cool kids club", family wanted me to, etc. Or I would put the blame elsewhere for not succeeding. "If I didn't have finals, I could have exercised," etc. I didn't realize then that I held the power to my own success. I could have chose to workout during finals, etc but I chose not to.  This was a vicious circle for as long as I can remember.

Now that I realize that I am in charge of my own journey and success, I am actually seeing results. I hope my journey helps someone out there struggling and inspires other to keep trucking along.

Losing weight is no fairy tale but sometimes it feels damn good! Other times, not so much. And, okay, so maybe for me there are talking animals. Or, at least one. His name is Squirt.

He talks, screams, and sings, especially when it would be awkward to do so. He supports me in his own way.

And maybe there is a handsome prince from a faraway land, who moved all the way from New Zealand to be with me and supports me along my weight loss journey, no matter what the scale says.

But you get what I mean (I hope!).

Life is all about finding and creating yourself, picking yourself back up when you fall to pieces. We all have bad things that happen to us in our lives. We can either choose to dwell and feel sorry for ourselves or to pick ourselves up and grow stronger from it. Life is all about surviving. (I should know. I have a PH.D. in surviving, like many out there =P).

But all funniness aside, I am a survivor of life and it has grown me into the better, stronger woman that I am today. I wouldn't trade that for anything. I like how strong I have become.

However, surviving is not without it's side effects. I turned to food to cope with life events at an early age. By the time I was in high school, I was morbidly obese.

Food did not cure me of anything but instead made my emotional scars more visible. Others just saw me as different and so I was heavily bullied from elementary school through high school. Kids at school would throw gum in my hair, say nasty verbally abusive things, and some even got physical, all the while I was going through trouble in my life and having a hard time dealing.

I didn't grow up in a stable home. My mother had a problem with alcohol and drugs. My parents divorced when I was 11. Despite me telling everyone I was fine with it, inside I wasn't. I missed how things were when they were good. I left to live with my dad.

My mom ended up having an abusive boyfriend who also was into drugs and alcohol. And when I came over to visit on the weekends, the nightmare began. At first it was arguing and throwing. Then it got physical. I cried myself to sleep some nights. Then he came into my room at night. I was never the same.

I blocked the memories out for years. I remember one time bringing my dogs into the room with me to sleep because I didn't feel safe over there. My childhood mind thought they would protect me. They didn't. I also remember hiding in places in my quarter acre backyard and in closets with a baseball bat to feel safe as a child.

My mom eventually lost the house and I didn't hear from her again for years. Occasionally I'd receive a phone call or she'd be in a rehab place somewhere and I would go and visit. But then I wouldn't hear anything for awhile. I remember falling asleep crying, wondering where she was.

In high school, she ended up moving back and the nightmare started all over again. I blocked out the memories again. I don't know why it never occurred to me to call the police, but it didn't. One day, in the summer between junior and senior year in high school I found myself on the floor, too depressed to get up. I started counseling and seeing a psychiatrist. They thought it best that I do Home-Hospital Schooling for my senior year. If you don't know what that is, it is a type of homeschool where a teacher from the district comes to your house, specifically for students who are in a hospital or are too sick to make it to school. I enjoyed it.  Today I wish I had gone to school for my senior year, as I missed out on the activities. But there was no way I was functional back then with everything going on.

At 17, the memories came back and a wave of painful emotions hit me suddenly. I remembered what had happened, all at once. It was devastating.

I told my therapist what I remembered. She said she had to file a report. I didn't want to press charges, I just wanted to move on with my life but she said it was the law.

I had to speak to the police, in front of bright lights and cameras, with a two way mirror, in detail about everything that had happened. They even took close up pictures of my lady parts. It seemed like something from Law And Order but it was mortifying and I was the victim. I just wanted the whole thing to be done with. I wanted to go home, curl up in my bed, and cry.

As it turns out, there wasn't enough evidence so they didn't proceed. I guess I waited too long to press charges. The next step was a restraining order.

Oddly enough, they served him on Christmas Eve. My dad had to pull a favor just to get him served. He had a police friend who ended up seeing it got done. And when he was served, a new nightmare began. Of course, he was angry and denied everything. The part that hurt the most was that my mother didn't believe me. I didn't understand how she couldn't.

The restraining order was approved. I had to go before a judge because he was determined to fight it. I didn't understand that at the time, either.

My mother finally came around. She ended up getting a restraining order and divorcing him, too. He still tried to come around. He even took their stuff out of storage that was hers and did who-knows-what with. My mom ended up moving in with my dad in me, which was oddly enough down the street.

He finally left us alone. I thought that was the end of the nightmares and I could get on with my life. It wasn't.

My father was diagnosed with Liver Cancer just before I started college. It was devastating. He was my best friend and my naive mind thought he was invincible.

He tried lots of treatments and surgeries, including removing half of his liver, but none seemed to work. He even traveled to San Francisco for treatments. They finally put him on the liver transplant list. He ended up passing away in 2006. I was devastated. I never got to say goodbye. The whole time he was sick I was in denial so it hit me hard.

After my father's passing, my mother and I grew closer. She took me on trips to the Oregon Coast during summers. It is still my favorite place to visit to this day.

Six months later I ended up moving out for the first time as I got into a good University to study pre-pharmacy/biology. After a few quarters I ended up making a rash decision which I would live to regret. I transferred to a school in Oklahoma and moved there. At the time, I thought it would bring me happiness. My naive mind thought life was like a country song there and since country songs were happy, I'd be better off there. I wasn't.

I ended up getting into an abusive relationship myself. I told myself I never would but somehow I did. I didn't know how to get out.

I moved back to California and dropped out of college but brought him with me. Luckily my family helped me get out of it. He was bad news.

Awhile before the break up, I met my now husband on an online video game. Yes, I am quite the nerd but that's a story for another day. We were just talking at first. He gave me hope during this bad relationship, too.

We ended up talking for years; not just typing and e-mailing but actually talking. We finally decided we had feelings for each other and decided to meet up. At first we were going to meet in Hawaii but something in my life happened so he decided to just fly out to where I live.

My mother was diagnosed with lung cancer two years after my father passed away. Again, I was devastated.

The doctor said that lung cancer is very hard to detect and by the time you have symptoms, it is too late. All he could do was give more time. My now husband was there with me when I heard the news for the first time. It was weird having someone else there with me this time but I liked it.

My mother, my now husband, and I took a trip to Santa Cruz and he ended up proposing to me on the rooftop. I said yes.

I fell hard and fast for him. At first I wasn't sure he even liked me due to my low self esteem. When I had met guys in the past, they were always turned off by my weight, even at a size 14, which I consider to be normal.

We had to go through immigration to get married. What hard work that was! Lots of paperwork, fees, and deadlines. We finally got married, on February 27, 2009.

I didn't have a lot of money to spend and it was such short notice to get married so I went with a red dress despite always dreaming of a white one. Although, in my dreams I was skinny lol. I also had dreamed growing up of my father giving me away and was depressed he could not be there. We ended up getting married at the county clerk's office.

He loved me despite my weight piling on over the years. He saw me for me. I loved him for that.

We ordered an ice cream cake and ended up eating it at my then favorite restaurant. We went back to Santa Cruz for our Honeymoon. It only seemed appropriate.

In 2010, my mother passed away in her sleep. I was there when it happened. I made the 911 call and started the CPR. There was nothing anyone could have done. It was her time. I was devastated. I didn't know she was hospice (6 months or left to live) so I didn't say my goodbyes. It felt like my whole family was gone.

I was depressed for months. My husband and I even had our difficulties during this time but we worked through them.

I had every reason to be depressed. But I chose to fight back. I could look back on my life and be sad but I choose to look back and appreciate what I have. It may not have been perfect but in the end I had parents that loved me. And I may have had a lot of bad things happen, but I overcame them and they made me stronger. The domestic violence I witnessed made me realize what not to have in a relationship and what to look for to help others who may be going through it. Overall, it made me stronger. It made me who I am today.