Week one day one. 

Week one, day one… that’s what we used to call it in the Army…. the first day of your new life/career. 

This isn’t really that for me. I started my fitness journey back on the 6th of June 2012 whilst walking my two husky dogs. I was rudely disturbed by a woman who can only be described as scary fuvking Mary! 
This woman is married to a guy I used to serve with. Her and I didn’t get a long, not via me she was a paranoid woman and the fact she is grossly obese and has a face like smacked arse she really didn’t like women around her husband. Who incidentally has a face like a melted welly, so she was safe with her little hero! 
This woman stopped me whilst I was walking my dogs and gave me a few choice words. I told her to take her face for a shit and called her a hippocrocamoose… 

So here’s where it goes weird, for 15 years I’ve been a big lass, gaining weight progressively sometimes losing but mostly stating around a size 14… but my weight was increasing as of late I was a size 20-22 and around 18 stone. I was recently married and I suppose I was “happy” I broke our bed once and my now ex husband said “it’s just a cheap bed” yet his side was strong like bull. So I knew he was just trying to be kind. 
After scary Mary’s and I’s little slanging match scary Mary retaliated with. ” you’re not so skinny ya self, fat cow”

I brushed it off and carried on walking my dogs. When I got home I went up stairs to my bedroom and stripped off. 
She was right! I was a complete mess rolls upon rolls of fat a belly so round it shone in the poor military house lighting. I turned to the side. Even worst I looked at my face I was 32 and looked around 46. A puffy swollen face, piggy beaded eyes with the fat over flowing around them. My nose is big but with extra weight it looked like I was auditioning for an extra on monsters inc…. I couldn’t even scratch my back my arms were so fat they wouldn’t reach. My belly button was that deep sometimes it would smell awful when I cleaned it. Stretch marks for having kids, fat fish tits… and the “I only wear leggings look” had finally got me to this! 
A month before I saw a doctor and he diagnosed me with type 2 diabetes, not the kind that some poor souls are born with. The type that overweight and over indulges develop because they eat their feelings. 
I had to do something about this. Yes I’ve had 3 kids and yes I’ve been big since I had my first son but this!!! This isn’t big, this was deadly, the sort of person you know will get yours and 20 other people’s share of the NHS. The type who say I’m big boned I can’t lose weight I’ve tried or just blame every fucker else because they are lazy and fat. 
Now I’m not a lazy person, I’ve worked all my life my house in immaculate, I love sport including playing rugby but again I used the ” I need to be big for my position ” 

Lies fuvking lies! Lies I tell myself and other people. 

In reality I was just an emotional eater because of underlying issues I haven’t dealt with other the years.  

Like an anorexic or bulimic, I had and still to the day have an eating disorder. 

I’m bulimic I eat and eat and eat and eat. I don’t make myself sick I take laxatives. Since being a child I’ve had bowel problems. So I was administered laxatives from a very early age. I’m addicted to them sometimes 10 a day with those and other stomach problems. I have two states of mind. 
The need to be full 

The need to be empty. 

Being full I can’t stand, I get to that point and feel like I can’t move the cramps the overwhelming feeling kills me. My body can’t take it. So I take the tablets, one after one I know they won’t work for at least 6 hours so I always take them before bed and when I wake. I use the toilet instantly. 

The feeling of empty is euphoria for me I love it…. I like to hear my stomach rumble too and the feeling it gives me. Its almost like a reward for not eating too much. 
My bulimia went un noticed as a child, my family gave me laxatives as I was constantly constipated so me going was a good thing. What my poor mother never realised I was developing a disorder through the medication that was trying to help me. I was a skinny child, tall and thin, blonde hair, blue eyes and very active. Hockey, rugby, army cadets anything to get away from my home. ( another story )

After I had my first child I could not lose the weight my bulimia stopped. I didn’t feel the need to stay slim I just got fatter. 

From one eating disorder to another! I was no longer bulimic and was now a gorger who would eat anything I could! 
Fast forward to standing in my bedroom….. 

I crumbled, I literally cried and whailed at the top of my voice. The fucking state of me, how did my husband even look at me never mind be intimate? 

This needed sorted so I got dressed washed my face and went downstairs to do some research. 

Straight away I’m looking at cosmetic surgery, weigh loss methods and how much would it cost? Thousands and thousands of pounds. We didn’t have that kind of money, so I looked at diets and eating plans. Weight watchers, Cambridge diet, juice plus and the usual ones. Until I saw slimming world there was a group being held that night from 19:30. I decided I was going to go… 
This is it, this is the plan for less than a £5 a week I go each Thursday and get weighed and see how the plan goes. I got in the car and drove there I was met by a large group of women of all shapes and sizes and was told I would have to be weighed. 

Shit! 

I never thought of that, the scales looked like the were used for large meat thinking about it they bloody was! Instead this meat was covered with copious amount of fat and It was my fat being measured. 

I stood on the scales trying not to look down and there it was just short of 18 stone. 

Turning around to see if anyone was stood on it with me the confirmation was there. 

I am morbidly obese! 
I left that building a mess not only the way I looked but mentally, how? Why? 

I had left the army a big girl and within less than a year had put on 25kgs. That night I laid in bed reading my slimming world manual, digesting how to do the plan. Working out my meal plans and what I could and could not eat. I was on a fucking mission….. Op sort this fat mess out. 

2 thoughts on “Week one day one. 

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