I’ve been in full – I’m hiding because I’m ashamed – mode lately. Not hiding from family, but rather from myself. And for some reason today, I’m exposing myself.

Does that even make any sense?

I hope that I can explain this in a fairly neatly-wrapped blog post, but I’m afraid it will literally just come out a bunch of jumbled words with no real meaning behind it all.

But I hope that’s not true.

Since the beginning of this blog, I’ve chronicled my weight loss journey… the highs and lows, the struggles and triumphs. But in the past 2 years – a span in which I have said that I’m back in the “gaining mode” of this weight loss journey, I may have written words here about how I was trying again and again – to lose, to get back control, that I was learning… but I can’t say that I was being absolutely truthful about the words. I can’t say that I even believed anything I was writing.

Because I’ve been through the journey and “know the speak”… and because I’m a “pleaser of people”… I tend to make things sound like I’m on the upside of it all. I want to believe that it’s true. I just want to be back to where people were praising me for the accomplishments.

And then earlier today, I read “In Which I’m Embarrassed about my Weight” by Real Life Sarah.

It was in that blog post that I suddenly realized how much I was hiding even from myself. Or rather that I wasn’t being honest with myself.

Yes, I know I’ve struggle with my weight since late-grade school. It may have started when I was rejected by the boys or been the subject of laughter when the “over the shoulder boulder holder” jokes came up.

Yes, I remember sneaking food (specifically snacks) out of the cupboards and freezer during the middle school and high school years. Entire packages of Little Debbie cakes were consumed.

Yes, I thought I would be accepted by everyone because I was myself – despite my weight – but learned quickly that the looks of pity and avoiding eye contact became the norm for me. I was never connected to anyone as I passed them on the street… they just simply looked away.

Yes, I lost 160 pounds in a matter of 3 years. But it didn’t solve my problems. I was still wanting to be liked, needed, surrounded, heard and loved. But yet the kind of love I want so desperately for my life never came… even as I saw it happening in others.

Which always led to the question, why not me? What is wrong with me?

And thus the power of the self-abuse began to take over again. It started simply enough with one meal… but then over the course of 2 years it has now escalated itself to almost every meal.

And food is an addiction that is hard.

I can avoid alcohol. I can avoid television. And I’m sure that (if put up to the challenge) I can even avoid the internet and technology. (PLEASE don’t put me up to that challenge!)

But no one can avoid food. Even in it’s healthiest forms it can be abused. It can look like a person is changing their life on the outside – even by looking at what is in the grocery cart – but unless you are a fly on the wall here (or a spider I won’t touch), you will never know how much is consumed.

And I am there. No matter what the food is. I am there.

I’ve said that I’m starting the “Weight Watchers” plan again – but in all honesty, the only thing I’ve done is started paying the company money… not once fully counting Points+ for a day and now at a net gain since joining in mid-December.

I know in my head and in my heart things NEED to change. I need to be healthier. I really do WANT it.

I want to look in the mirror and see who i truly am. Not someone who is known for being “the girl who lost weight.” Not someone, who despite losing the weight and was healthy, looked at herself as still overweight and not-good-enough.

I want to be me. I want to feel like me. I want to be worthy. I want to see me for me.

And I guess in the end, I have to discover who she is.

Because right now… I just don’t know.

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