Why I like being fat

Sometimes I like being fat. I'm sure that may be surprising to some but it's true. When a person lives their whole life a certain way it is hard to change. Even when the change is good. With a almost seven months of abtinance from flour, sugar and quantities of food, I find that I am being pulled outside of my comfort zone, or as I like to call it "the fat zone." My pants are baggy, even my shoes are smaller. I tried on a pair of winter gloves that I couldn't wear last year and they were lose on my hands. I even dropped two sizes in my underwear. I am losing weight in the strangest places. I have saggy skin on my fingers. Weird, right?

In the past when I successfully dropped pounds, I always had a magic "number" on the scale that caused me to freak out. About 12 years ago it was 352. I never dropped below that. Then when I had my weightloss surgery, I never dropped below 389. Now, I find myself obsessing at 424. I've lost 60 pounds since I committed myself to my addiction recovery program and more and more people have noticed the changes and are making encouraging comments. This "positive attention" is part of what freaks me out.

I am used to comments from people about my weight but not the nice comments. I am used to stares from people in public but not the good kind of stares. Now, with my recent success, I receive much positive feedback AND IT BOTHERS ME. I've really been thinking about this and I have a few fledgling conclusions: First, I don't feel worthy of the positive attention, second, if you could see the real me on the inside you would not feel the same about me and third, I really believe deep down that this "diet" will turn out like every other diet and I will gain back all the weigh plus more and then all of the negatives will be true again.

What I describe above is the root of my addiction...the root of any addiction in my humble opinion...and that is fear, doubt and insecurity. Fear that I'm not worthy of love, care and concern, doubt that my lack of worthiness will ever change and the insecurity that even though I have friends and family who love me, if they new the real me they would do a 180 and go the other direction.

I ate to numb the feelings that "we" had. By "we" I mean me and all the voices in my head that tell me over and over and over why I deserve to be fat and disgusting and miserable.

As I got the poisons of flour, sugar, alcohol and mass quantities of food out of my system, I began to hear the voices louder and clearer. At times I was tempted to go back to the food but I knew that it would not work. Right before committing to my recovery program, the food wasn't "doin' it for me anymore." My quantities were going up, the combinations of foods were becoming more bizarre and I was adding in alcohol on a pretty consistent basis. The disease of food addiction was progressing and it became harder and harder to find the high. I was at my rock bottom. I couldn't walk, my clothes were the largest size and getting tighter and tighters and I could barely breath.

So I took one small step of faith, a step toward my "higher power" and He met me, took my hand, and held me up when I couldn't stand on my own anymore. I realized that what Christ wanted from me, needed from me, was for me to put down my pride and come to HIM.

The words of a worship chorus that we sing at church comes to mind...and I would site the source if I could remember more that just a few lines...but here goes:

Brokeness, brokeness is what I long for
Brokeness is what I need
Brokeness is what You want from me

Take my heart and form it
Take my mind, transform it
Take my will, conform it
To Yours, to Yours, oh Lord

I can't say it better than that!