It is so hard to lose weight.

Image by Steve Buissinne from Pixabay

Six years on Gabapentin — at least that’s what I am blaming my weight gain on, but I am pretty sure my less-than-active lifestyle and eating habits are to blame. That, and aging. (I can’t believe I just typed that.)

As my neurologist has approved and guided me through the “weaning-off” process to stop taking Gabapentin, I’ve been harboring the dream that the pounds would just fall off of me. It’s been three weeks.

Not one pound has left. My appetite has dwindled but not one pound.

Hey you, I see you.

All of you out there sweating your way through weight loss. Smoothie-drinking, walk-taking, portion-controlling, weight-lifting and Keto-ing your way to weight loss. I see you.

And I admire you. Your commitment to this is astounding to me — and your willpower is commendable. You’ve set a goal and you are pushing yourself beyond your limits to reach your goal. Testing yourself and growing as a human being for it. Awesome is what it is.

I have come a long way from my early years of shaming myself for not being thin enough. The eating disorder of my twenties is certainly not the lifestyle of my forties and I am 50 lbs heavier.

Some back issues, nerve and chronic pain all have taken a toll on my health — and have rendered me pretty much sedentary. Fear of returning to my eating disorder ways of thinking has paralyzed me into nothingness. No action taken. Being sedentary is not my idea of living my life to the fullest. Not when I know that I can improve it — if I try.

Image by Karolina Grabowska from Pixabay

No, it’s no longer about the weight for me — it’s about freedom.

The freedom I feel at the top of a hike that didn’t dang-near kill me. I miss my strength. My flexibility. My moving and shaking and dancing body. This new me feels more like a potato. And I don’t want to think potatoes because it is one in the morning and I am contemplating potato chips.

To eat in bed. Good grief.

I see people out there twice my size with dogged determination to lose weight and pushing through their fears, their discomfort, their internal struggles— and they are doing it — or at least trying every single day.

I should be ashamed. For wanting to make a change but doing nothing about it. What is my excuse here? I complain but then don’t take action? What kind of messed up success strategy is that?

I think it is time to dedicate myself to some game-changing moves. Make a plan to stick to — and get off my duff and do the dang thing. And all you fine people out there fighting this fight every day — keep at it. Keep going. You never know who you may inspire by not giving up.

I admire you for the courage to aim for your goals and work toward them.

Perhaps I will one day look in the mirror and decide this is ME, all me, OKAY me…but I am just not there yet. I can look at other people no matter their size or shape and love them anyway…but somehow I have this younger, more fit version of myself in my head that won’t leave me alone. I think that version is me but then I get winded walking to my mailbox? When did this happen?

And if that younger-fitter version isn’t going to leave me alone — then I think it is time she gets a little more motivational.

Self — you are loved.

Self — you are ok.

Self — just live your life and enjoy it.

Self — if you want to be more healthy and feel better then that’s ok too. But you might need to start a little moving around to make it happen.

Self — put the darn chips back in the kitchen.

Self — you can do this.

For those of you working hard to find freedom in your lives, I admire your efforts and your dogged determination. You can do this. It is time I start believing that I can too.

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