Worse than the plague, natural disasters, and hormonal skin...

Well.. not really.  But due to my unreasonable body hatred, I feel sick to my gut on an equal level with thoughts of plague, disasters, and waking up to find the skin on your face has become a horrific, hormonal mess a la stereotypical teenager.

What's got me sick?

SWIMSUIT SHOPPING.

Did you feel it?  That twisting in the pit of your stomach?

I'm all about people feeling good in the body they have.  I will not judge you for your swimwear choice provided you keep everything legally required to be covered, covered, and don't stick your boobs right in my husbands face (you skank).  BUT.  Remember.  I hate my body.  That nagging voice is still there.  That fat chick telling me:

• I'll look ridiculous
• Nobody wants to see that
• Someone will make you feel ashamed
• Fat people should dress for their size
• They're all gonna laugh at you

How do I deal with that?

I want to look cute and be able to wear a bikini so badly but I'll likely go for a full coverage/slimming/flaw hiding one piece yet again.

Let's Talk "Biggest Loser"

Alright.  No spoilers here so don't fret.

This show makes me feel great about myself in that motivational way that is they can do it, I can do it.  But it also makes me feel oh so very bad about myself.

I've been working so hard on improving my self image.  SO HARD.  And then I see these contestants.  Some of which have very similar weights as I currently do and I think "Oh my God.  Is that how I look?"  Once again, "Are people just being nice to me by not telling me what a blob I look?"  Here are the female contestants that are close-ish in weight to me.

 Only 13 pounds heavier than me.

Only 10 pounds heavier than me.

Only 20 pounds heavier than me.

Only 18 pounds heavier than me.

I just don't get it.  What is wrong in my head?  My body before I started losing weight was likely just as bad as the contestants but now I look at the group photo and think "I am WAY fitter and thinner than those guys."  But the damn numbers.  The numbers say that's not quite true.

I Need an Un-Counselor

So I'm losing weight.  But I'm still not happy.

I started the South Beach Diet yesterday.  Before you go off on a tangent about how carbs are an important part of a balanced diet and how a body NEEDS them, I know.  I have a gluten sensitivity and shouldn't be eating breads, pasta, and such anyway.  So it's not a really big deal for me.  Essentially the first two weeks are just making me cut out excessive sugars (I drink more juice than I should), making me tone down my portions of starches like potatoes and rice (since I can make a whole meal of just these), and just breaking some bad habits I have gotten into.  My meals consist of mostly just lean protein and veggies with a bit of cheese here and there.  Lots of veggies (they have those good carbs).  I'm also doing the push-up, sit-up(crunches), and squat challenges again.  If you're interested you can find them here:

http://www.twohundredsitups.com/
http://hundredpushups.com/index.html
http://www.twohundredsquats.com/

My weight is down a bit more but I still don't feel good about it.  I mean, realistically I should be feeling great about it.  Here is my ticker as of this morning's weigh-in:

I'm impressed with myself.  That's not just a little weight. And yet, I STILL can't see it.  At all.  I am convinced that I truly do have some sort of body dysmorphic disorder.  I would think that 40 pounds loss should be a visible loss.  Something.  Anything.  But I don't see a difference despite the evidence I do have that includes small sized pants fitting and becoming too large, the guy I'm in class with on Fridays no longer has to scoot his chair forward for me to get by him, and even the fleeting image of myself looking decent in window and door reflections.  If I look in the mirror, I look exactly the same as I did a year ago, and really for decades.  I feel like I need an honest, unbiased, maybe even a harsh assessment of my image by a stranger.  If I could know for sure what other people really see when they look at me, perhaps I can begin to finally really tackle this horrible self-image problem.  I mean damn.  I don't ever feel pretty.  I just want to look in the mirror once and see the real me.  I know I can't be as hideous as what I see because frankly, I'm pretty sure no one would have ever married me if what I see was the visible norm.  it's pretty bad.

So if anyone knows any methods or homeopathic type therapies that might work for my problem, I'd really appreciate it.  I don't feel comfortable visiting any of the small number of counselors or psychiatrists in town because frankly, I've either worked with them or they know my father. Ethics and confidentiality are great, but i just wouldn't be comfortable.  So I'm going to have to continue to shrink myself.  Pun intended.

Let's Talk Self-Image

Why isn't this working?

I figured that I'd see some kind of change in myself.  It's there.  Here is the proof:

• I'm wearing a loose size 14 jean instead of barely squeezing myself into a size 18.  
• I noticed yesterday that I no longer need to move the dining table's chair in order to squeeze past the dishwasher when it is open.
• Although still at 30 lbs lost, the weight has moved and now I'm .1 lb away from calling it 31.
• I've run 6 miles for time since Monday where I sprinted most of them. I rock a 9 minute mile.  I think I could barely walk a 20 minute mile when I first started this all.   It's gotten easy enough that I can read while leisure running/jogging and enjoyed the last half of the third Stephanie Plum novel that I'm rereading.
• My tummy is smaller.  When sitting on the couch, nothing is roll-ish when I look down.
• My fat upper arms, while still fat (thanks for the genetics mom!), are not nearly as water-wing-like as they were previously.
• When I contract my calf muscles, I have a very obvious cut in.  I'm pretty fascinated by it.

So even with this list of proof, and others that won't occur to me until after I click the "post" button, I don't SEE it. I can see bits and pieces but when looking at the big picture it's not there at all.  The stupid fat chick that is apparently still securely in residence in my psyche continues to be a major witch and is messing with me.  I try to tell myself positive things.  I try to look on the bright side.  I tell the fat chick in my head to shut up and that she's being ridiculous.  But this is still what I see when I look in a full mirror:

• Look at that gut.  I could never be on the show Biggest Loser because no way in hell would I be able to stand up in front of people in just a sports bra and shorts.  And forget about the tv audience.  No way.
• Seriously, a double chin.  It's not a full one but that's definitely face fat.
• Speaking of face fat, aren't their supposed to be cheekbones?  Oh, they're under that chub.
• Thank God it's not tank top weather, those arms almost flap like wings.  I suppose flying would be good cardio though.
• I can't even bear to look at my thighs or butt.

Am I just incapable of being satisfied and happy?   I want to be.  SO badly.  I don't understand why it's such a hard inner struggle.  My goals aren't anything ridiculous.  At least I don't think so.

• To be healthy enough to be an active, positive role model for children some day.
• To be able to take on challenges like a marathon and know that I've worked hard enough to earn my spot in the ranks of other competitors.
• To never again have a doctor use the word "obese" when talking about my weight.
• To be able to shop in all the stores with cute clothes and not worry about whether they've already sold the one fat size they usually have in stock.
• To lower the possibility of diabetes, heart disease, some cancers, and a bunch of other icky things.
• To be able to look in the mirror and think "I look cute today."

Empty Victory

I'm feeling down again.

I don't understand why my body, or brain, or whatever, is letting this fat chick take control.  I should be be pleased today.  I've done it!  I've officially moved to the other side of my weight loss ticker.

I was happy, don't get me wrong.  I got that wonderful, warm, cheerful feeling in my heart but it faded so quickly.  Second after it was replaced by the insidious voice of that fat chick inside me.  I thought I was destroying her but the whispers have began again.  Looking in the mirror, I don't see twenty-six pounds gone.  She whispers, "what's the point of weight loss if you can't see it at all?"  Reminds me that I still look fat. She makes me look at the spots on my naked body that are disgusting and obviously not changed by weight loss.

Twenty-six pounds is a lot!  That's the weight of three good-sized newborn babies.  You would think I could see something.  Heck, I think I should see something.  But no. That bastard of a fat chick is still in control.  Why won't she leave me be?  I just want to look in the mirror once and think "ooh.  I look good!"  Is that too much to ask for?  I mean, I didn't even really feel pretty on my wedding day.  This sucks!