Covid 19 weight loss update: Accepting ch-ch-changes and getting back to work

In today's episode of my weight loss journey, Covid 19, sooner vs. later or wake up and smell the coffee (long, painful occasionally digressive story to follow, but with happy resolution)

Backstory: I've always had (or been told I had) weight issues but as a teen in the late 70s, early 80s, this meant something very different. People in general weighed less overall back then. 135 pounds for a 5'3" girl, was overweight. I felt ashamed of being "fat" and in college, I basically didn't eat. I began my first pregnancy at age 22, at 110 pounds and always shed pounds quickly after 4 babies.

Odyssey Begins: In 2001 and 2004, I lost stillborn daughters, experienced insane anxiety and depression, took Paxil, was at times suicidal, was diagnosed at Pine Rest with Bi-polar 2. Yes, that's a thing apparently. It means you alternate between happy and sad, but not as happy or sad as Bi-polar. So pretty much normal? I declined the offer of DepaKote. Turns out my suicidal thoughts, which prompted me to check myself into Pine Rest were PMS driven. My husband called this and tried to tell the psychiatrist that I severe PMS (actually now called PMD) but was ignored.

Dark Passage: Fast forward to 2011 (I say fast forward because much of time between '04 and then is a Paxil-induced near-comatose blur. I was an emotional leper, numbed and not comfortably.) I don't recall exactly what woke me up, but when I did, it wasn't the debatable 10 pounds overweight of the 80s. I had packed on 120 lbs and was clinically and morbidly obese.

Tunnel Lightens: By 2014, I had lost 100 pounds. You see me at my biggest (middle) and after weight loss in these pictures. I did it while being a sedentary at-home worker (a fact I'm rather proud of). It was thanks to my higher power whom I choose to call God, AA type legwork, calorie counting, supplements and mental resets.

Ch-ch-changes or what the hell just happened?? By the pricking of my thumbs, something...well, not wicked, but certainly weird this way comes. Here am thinking I'm doing great, maintaining weight loss but then I start to feel bigger. Clothes fit a little differently. Tummy (which has always plagued me) seems bigger. What changed? Quite a bit and not much. Lemme splain. After losing weight, it got easier to cut corners than calories. I got lazier with portion control and eating what is, for me, kryptonite (the 4C--cheese, chocolate, chips, crackers) Also, our schedule has changed and not for the better. I'm working till 9-10 p, not going to bed till 1am, back up at 4:30 am and sometimes napping. Days off, we don't go to bed till 4 am because that's how husband has to do it when he works (5pm to 5 am). And let me tell you, lack of sleep and a wonky nocturnal schedule play hell with your biorhythms and weight gain. What's not changed is that I'm not really eating that much more, and in some cases less, because in this Covid-19 pandemic, we aren't going out to eat. And I'm exercising more doing Shipt rather than being stuck behind a desk 6 ft from the fridge. Go figure. I think it's the screwed up sleep and when I'm eating (late at night).

Covid 19 = quaran 20. So, 2020 and I'm doing a reality check again. I've for sure put on weight. Not a lot as you can see by <--this Feb 2020 pic. Some of it is probably due to building muscle doing Shipt rather than being desk-bound.  But last summer's clothes are tighter and that's a wake-up klaxon. Cuz I don't want to gain the quaran-20.

What I learned on my summer vacation: To boil this down to brass tacks (My husband's AKA Mr. Malaprop's famous line) while it sucks to have a sucky schedule and Covid 19 sucks in general, I've discovered that I CAN lose weight again, if I want to. All the things that worked still work. And what's really great is that it will be so much easier. I won't have to shed 100 pounds because I caught it in time. Ergo, the title of this post...Sooner vs. Later.


What not to do (and a bit of what to do): If you're like me, you default to excuse-making rather than acceptance. You blame your clothes (they shrunk) your scale (damn thing's busted) your mirror (it came from a carnival fun house). You justify the weight gain (it's only a few pounds). And you may be right about all those things. But do you really want to ride the denial train till it crashes? I would rather derail it now when it is so much easier. So it's back on the bandwagon for me. I'll be sharing some tips and tricks on this but in the meantime, feel free to comment, ask questions and share ideas in the little box thing below. 😍😍