Short Term (dis)Comfort

Knowing that my parents were now aware of the struggle I was going through in some ways made things easier (good advice, etc.) However, it also made several things more difficult.

I am a people pleaser.  I love to make people happy. I love it when people I love are proud of me. Aren't we all? Because I so desperately wanted to please people, especially those closest to me I began to hide information from them. If someone asked how I was doing I would say, "Good" when in all reality I was not sure if I would be able to compose myself to take another relaxing breath.

Because of this, and because of my fear of failure, I allowed my anxiety to dictate my behavior. I stopped going places, found excuses for almost everything and most often was at home. What do you do when you are at home, stressed and trying to find comfort? If you are me, you eat.

I was never an overweight person. I was never a stick either. I ate what I wanted, but was so active that it did not matter. Well, the activity stopped. The eating didn't. I wouldn't say that I was eating  A LOT of food, I just was not eating very healthy foods and with the lack of activity (aka sitting on the couch all the time), the stress, not sleeping at night, etc. the pounds piled on.

We laugh about it now because I look at pictures of myself at my worst and say to my husband, "Could you have told me I was that big?!" He laughs and says, "I honestly do not remember you being like that." He is sweet. Sweet but wrong. :)

Here are two pictures of me at my heaviest - when things were the hardest for me.

About 215lbs (5'7")

 

 

 

 

 

Wearing a snug size 16

As I slowly got better (which I will talk about in another post) and began working out I started to lose weight. Now mind you, I had to teach myself how to workout again. It looked a little like this:
                        *For a few months I would jog in place in my apartment and do crunches and push ups.
                        *When I gathered the courage I would run to my mail box (about 25 feet away) and back time and time again.
                        *Pretty soon I was able to walk to the church beside my house and walk laps around it. I am sure they wondered who the crazy lady was as sometimes I would walk fifteen or so laps.
                         *When my husband was home he would drive me to the track and run with me. I started by running 1/4 of a lap and than walked. Walked and ran.
                  
None of this happened overnight. I worked hard. I remember crying as I ran, sometimes too much to breath and had to stop, compose myself and start up again.

***Update****
             Last June, 3 years after struggling intensely with anxiety I ran a 1/2 marathon. This for me was a huge accomplishment. It was a time for me when I realized the fighting against the anxiety had paid off. I am now 61lbs lighter and have learned healthier ways to work with my anxiety besides eating.

Below is a picture of me at the beach in San Diego last summer conquering fears  - airplanes, the ocean, body boarding and bathing suits. eek. God has brought me so far.