I absolutely love the song "Why Walk When You Can Fly", by Mary Chapin Carpenter. I was thinking about this song today, and how it applies to my life and my weight loss.

In this world there's a whole lot of trouble, baby
In this world there's a whole lot of pain
In this world there's a whole lot of trouble
But a whole lot of ground to gain
Why take when you could be giving, why watch as the world goes by
It's a hard enough life to be living, why walk when you can fly

In this world there's a whole lot of sorrow
In this world there's a whole lot of shame
In this world there's a whole lot of sorrow
And a whole lotta ground to gain
When you spend your whole life wishing, wanting and wondering why
It's a long enough life to be living, why walk when you can fly

In this world there's a whole lot of cold
In this world there's a whole lot of blame
In this world you've a soul for a compass
And a heart for a pair of wings
There's a star on the far horizon, rising bright in an azure sky
For the rest of the time that you're given, why walk when you can fly

For many years in my life I was resentful for many things. There was always pain, always the feeling that someone was hurting me or was out to harm me. I wasted so long living in the shadow of the sorrow, shame, and blame. The whole time, I could have been out there living life. I was playing the victim. Woah is me, my husband is a cheater. Woah is me, I have no friends. Woah is me, my life isn't what I want it to be. Well, guess what, it was that way because I LET IT HAPPEN. The only one I can blame for my unhappiness as an adult is myself. Yes, that's right, I said it, I can only blame myself.

Instead of searching within myself for the answers, I turned to food. It held comfort, it held an escape. But what it could never hold for me was the answers. I could not understand why my husband did the things that he did, so I ate. I didn't understand why I had no close friends. And I couldn't understand why my life was falling apart. As I grew larger, my world grew smaller. I now see why.

Yes, my husband holds the blame for his actions, for his cheating, but you know what, I have to own up to my part. So, yes, I take my blame for the past. No, I didn't want to go out in public places. I was just happy sitting in front of the TV, eating, being alone. For the longest time, I didn't want to have sex. To me, him asking was just annoying. He only asked me for sex out of pity, right? I was tired and I hurt.  I ran around the house in sweats and whatever I could find that fit. It wasn't important for me to dress up, or to be girly. I always thought, "what's the point?" no was going to notice. That was the problem though, someone did notice, my husband. Instead of standing up for myself and saying I am worth happiness, I sat back and just existed.

Only now, at almost 29 years do I see life with a renewed sense of aw. And for the first time, in a very long time, I hold on to hope. I know that I had to end my relationship with food. It will not have that power over me. Sure, there are times when I get stressed that I reach for those salty chips, or that cookie. That's when I stop and think "That's not what I want. That won't fix it.". At that point I scream, cry, yell, just let it all out. I will be mad. I will be angry. I will be happy. I do NOT want to be fat. I do NOT want to be unhappy another day.

No food has the power over me now. There's no pizza that can give me the feeling of fitting into a size 16. No cake or cookie can give me that rush of working out for two hours. No potato chip can give me the sense of accomplishment that WW has. I will not give food that power.

No matter what happens between my husband and I, I know now that I have strength. I love myself, and that is something hard for me to say. How could he love me, if I couldn't love myself. We are working on us. Sure, it's going to be a long hard road. But, rest assured there will be no Big Mac stops along the way. There is no more walking, only flying.

Sometimes I think that it's just not fair. I want to pout and stomp my feet. I mean, why does it have to be so hard? Why can't I just be there already? I want to be at that point in my weight loss where I am comfortable about my body, about, about who I am.

There is no exaggeration when I say that my life revolves around what time of day I should eat, going to work, and working out. There are no exceptions. When I miss a day of working out, I am disappointed in myself. It's like "Okay, here we go down this slope again. I'm going to gain it all back. All my work will be for nothing." But why, why do I beat myself up over it. Is it because I don't think I can do it?

No, that's not it, at least not entirely. I am such a people pleaser. I always have been. Since the time I can remember, I always wanted everyone else to be happy. I am seeing now, that my weight loss is making everyone happy. There's a fear that if I don't go to the gym that I will be letting someone down, and if I do that, then I will be a failure.

Why do I do that? Why do I let what other people think of me determine my path in life? This journey is about me. I am not losing the weight for anyone else, I am doing it for me, so why do I care so much.

This weekend when I went to visit my family, everyone commented about my weight loss. It was hard not to notice. People would say things like "You look so great, not that you didn't look good before, but you look great now." Of course the cynical part of me was thinking "Wow, was it REALLY that bad before?" At one point, I wanted to tape a piece of paper to my chest asking people not to comment on my weight loss. Yes, I am very appreciative of the compliments, but towards the weekend I become very self conscience. It almost seemed like it wasn't happening to me, but to someone else.

There was a highlight however, something that I have NEVER been before, someone's perfect size. A few friends and I went out for a drink Saturday. We were all sitting around talking when one friend said to me: "Can I ask you a personal question? What do you weight now, like 160 pounds?" I laughed, thanked her  and told her that I was at 209. She told me that I didn't look it. She said that in the next few weeks she was going to have weight loss surgery done, and she wanted to know what she would look like at her goal weight, which is what I am at now.

I was shocked, me, at someone's goal. I had a body someone wanted. Well, hit me with a stick and call me stunned. I have never been the gal that people look at as attractive, fit, or thin. I have always been the girl that would look at someone else and think "God, I wish I had a body like that" or "Why can't I be thin".

To be honest though, I wouldn't appreciate if it came easy. I see people who can eat whatever they want, and never gain an ounce. Or those who never have to workout, yet seem to have the perfect body. Sure, who wouldn't love that? But, I have to say, I can say I did it the right way and the hard way. There are never any easy answers, only easy outs.

Right now, I guess I am just lost in transition. I still see myself as the 370 pound fat girl. When people talk about "fat" or "overweight" people, I still say "we". My mind goes right back there. I suppose it always will. I don't see this healthy fit girl. I see that girl that is still struggling. I hope one day, I can find that place where I fit.

Well, here it is June. A blazing June day, a nice warm 98 degrees. I was thinking today about how far I have come. Well, with pride I say that I am at 209.2 pounds. I would have never imaged that I would ever say that. I am now 10 pounds away from being under 200 pounds. I have lost 161 pounds in two years.

The last time I can remember that was in high school. I can remember exactly where I was when I saw that number on the scale. I was at home, in my parents bathroom. I pulled out the scale and stepped on. I could not believe my eyes. I was at 200 pounds. That just couldn't be. I stepped on the scale again, and sure enough, the number never changed. That was back in 1997, the year I graduated high school.

Here I sit, 11 years later, so close to that weight. This time it's with joy. I yearn for the day that I am under 200 pounds. Right now, I am 40.2 pounds away from the goal weight that I set for myself two years ago. I never would have thought it possible to lose 100 pounds, let alone 161 pounds.

I must say though, that the journey has been bittersweet for me. It's never been easy. Along the way I have had my fair share of obstacles. I've had to face things in my life that I wasn't ready to face. I had to accept my successes and failures. I had to look into the mirror and find who I was and who I wanted to be.

There have been people along the way who, without intention (I hope), have tried to stand my way. They have tried to lessen or cheapen my success. To them I must say; I did this the hard way and you can't take that from me. I worked every day for the past two years to be where I am today. There was no "easy out" for me. There was no magic pill or surgery that did this for me. There was no powder or food that helped me. It was my mind against my body. It was hard work and determination that lost the weight. No, I didn't starve myself. Each day I ate and never deprived myself of anything. I did it the HEALTHY way.

On so many occupations when I would walk, the next day i couldn't walk to the bathroom in the morning because my feet would kill me. But I kept walking, kept going. My knees would ache, my body would complain, but I pushed forward. There were times that I remember sitting in my car before going into the gym crying, thinking to myself "Why bother, you will always be fat." But, sure enough, I opened that car door and walked into the gym and completed my workout.

This new body and this mind set were not handed to me. It's something that has taken blood, sweat, tears, pain and time to have. When people ask me how I did it, the answer is always "Weight Watchers and exercise", because that is the truth.

With that said, I must confess, I keep trying to tell myself that there is no magic number. When I started Weight Watchers, I always thought that number would be 169, my goal weight. I though, once I reached that, everything in my life would fall into place. But, the closer I get, the more I realize, it's not true. There is no magic number, no magic weight. I am the same person I was at 370, just with less fat and more self confidence. There are times when I look in the mirror or see a photograph now, and I don't recognize the woman I see. For so long, there was another face staring back. The face I would see is someone who was struggling to find herself, to find her place in this world. That face has changed, I have changed.

I am stronger now. I have more confidence than ever before in my life. I know that I am worth it now. I am worth love and worth happiness. I am worth the weight loss. I worth this life I have been given.

Well, here it is May. Yes, summer is right around the corner. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and I have been out walking. So, how have I been? Well, wonderful. Right now, as I sit here typing, I am proudly wearing my 16W jeans, looking cute as can be. I am now officially at 218 pounds, 49 pounds away from my Weight Watchers goal of 169 pounds. So that means, I am 49 pounds closer to getting my tattoo.

I've been very good about using my points. Now, I am down to 26 points a day. Which equal to around 8 points a meal. I've changed my diet some. I've changed my breakfast to one packet of weight control oatmeal in the morning. Subway 12 inch turkey on wheat (no cheese, no Mayo) for lunch, then a turkey and turkey pepperoni wrap for dinner. Sometimes I will have a snack in between, but this is a typical day. I do indulge in the occational piece of chocolate, or an ice cream cone from McDonald's. On Weight Watchers I get an additional 35 flex points to use a week, and activity points. I earn around 60 activity points a week. On Weight Watchers I don't feel deprived, I am always full.

Do I miss out on things...absolutely not!  Yesterday, in the first time in forever, I sat comfortably in a theater seat with my arms beside me in the seat. I sat with my legs crossed. Before my knees would bang against the seat in front of me, and I would just give up trying to find a comfortable position. Yesterday I walked 2.75 miles to the grocery store (then 2.75 miles home). This is something I could have never dreamed of doing before. It was up hill both ways. Once I was home, I realized I was feeling great.

It's been a long journey, almost two years, but it's been worth every step. Here I am 152 pounds less, and I can't wait to hit my goal. I can do this!

It's sad that I haven't wrote in a while. I just don't have the time that I had before. I know this is not a good excuse, but it's an excuse. So, how's my "diet" been going? Well, I have to say that WW has been wonderful to me. Today at my weigh in, I weighed 226.2 pounds. I am officially 27.2 pounds away from being under 200 pounds, and 1.2 pounds away from my mini goal of 225 pounds. Looking at those numbers is surreal to me. Honestly, how was I ever at one point 370 pounds. It's like it's someone else's life that I am looking at.

Last night when I pulled on my pair of size 16W jeans, I thought I was going to faint right on the spot. Me, in a size 16 jeans? It must be a  dream. I mean my prom dress, 11 years ago was a size 18. My chorus dress in 10th grade (13 years ago) was a size 16. I looked in the mirror, and didn't recognize the girl standing before me. It's like I am a new person.

Sure, I still have my belly pouch that is getting saggy with weight loss, but it's so much smaller. I have lost over 12 inches in my waist alone. There's loose skin in my thighs, along with muscle and definition. My bat arms are disappearing, and now I see little muscles poking up in the fat's place. In my forearms I see wonderful muscle definition. In short, I see my hard work paying off. How can I not? I have lost 38.8 percent of my body fat. I've gone from a BMI of 56.3 to 34.4, a change of 38.8 percent.

How have I gotten this far? To be honest, I had to look to God and myself for strength. First to God, I thank him for all the weight loss blessings that I have. Without him, I would not have the inner strength to go on. He's the one who has given me this wonderful blessing. Then I had to look to myself. This is has been the hardest part of all. I had to find something in myself that wasn't there before.

There are times when:

• I don't want to go the gym.
• I want to eat something greasy, grimy, and not good for me.
• The last thing I want to do is yoga, pilates or the weight ball.
• Two repeats of 15 reps should be enough, why overdo it?
• 45 minutes instead of 70 is enough on the elliptical...

I mean who is going to know.

I am going to know, that's who. It's during these times that I say to myself:

• Why give up now, you have come so far? Go to the gym, One hour is not going to kill you.
• You  know that food is what made you fat in the first place, you don't want to go back there do you?
• You need weight and core training, without it, you will be thinner but the same unbalanced person.
• Why do something half way....go hard or go home. Why waste your time if you are not going to give 100%.
• It's these 35 minutes at the end that you are aiming for. The leg of the race is the easiest, it's the end that the winners are made.

Sure, I still have a long way to go, before I hit my goal of 169.0 pounds. I am 72% to my goal. I know that I can do this. I can and will lose the 57.2 pounds to get to my goal weight. The only thing in this world that can stop me, is me. There's no way at this point I am going to stop. I have come to far and lost too much to stop now!

Well, I haven't wrote in a while, and I feel that I must get back to it. It helps me to de-stress and to see where I am on my new life path. Even though, I can proudly say that I am down to 233.6 pounds. I have lost 136.4 pounds, or a whole average size person. I have tried very hard to keep with my workout and with Weight Watchers. But what I have found is that people are now shocked when they see me, or how so many questions. To be honest, there are times when I don't know how to handle the attention or deal with the questions.

I hear, "Where's the rest of you" or I hear "Wow, you look great". The cynical part of me thinks immediately " What was so wrong with me before?" I think "Was I really THAT big?" I joke with people and so "Oh the rest of me is at the gym" or I just thank them and tell them that I am working hard at losing it. The thing is, I really don't know how to respond to them, how do you talk about something that is so uncomfortable to talk about?

Then, there are those people who offer advice. This shouldn't bother me, they are just trying to help, but I am sure at this point I know what I am doing, or at least I have found what works for me. I often hear the following:

• Are you working out too much
• Are you eating enough
• Are you sleeping enough
• You don't have to workout everyday
• Make sure you don't lose weight too fast

When people say these things I think:

• I work out 6 days a week for 1 1/2 to 2 hours a day. I feel great when I workout, and enjoy it, it's a great stress reliever.
• In following Weight Watchers, my points are calculated for me. I eat the amount of points for my weight and activity level.
• I sleep between 7 - 10 hours a day, if I am tired I take a nap. Sure there are times when there is not enough time in a day, but my sleep does not suffer.
• I look at working out, like I do work, I wouldn't skip work, so I am not skipping a workout. For me, I do need to workout everyday. It makes me accountable for my workout. It also gives me a sense of accomplishment.
• I am losing weight at a pace of 1 to 2 pounds weight loss a week, which is acceptable to doctors. Sure there are some weeks (this week) when I lose more, there are weeks that I lose less or none.
  

I think the worst though is having to explain to someone how I became so heavy to begin with. For me, this is a touchy subject. It's very personal, and I think it's rude for someone to ask "How did you get so fat to begin with?" I would never ask someone that, it's just not acceptable. It hurts to try to explain something that you yourself hardly understand. I mean, when someone hits someone with a car, do you ask "How did you hit someone with your car". It brings up bad memories, and you may not get the answer you were looking for. For me, it brings up all the pain that caused me to eat and gain weight to begin with.

I try to explain it wasn't because I was lazy, or ate a lot, or made poor choices. But, why should I explain? Who do I have to answer to?  I mean, the only one I have to answer to is God. I am my own person, and I am the one in control of my life. But shouldn't my current success be a measure of who I am now, who I have become?

I mean, I hate to think that I am a better looking person, or even a better person because I lost weight. My weight is not what defines who I am. In society, I am more accepted at 233 pounds, than 370 pounds. I am told that I have changed, but I still see the same person. Gee, it makes me wonder what life will be like when I weigh less than 199 pounds. What will the world be like then for me? What questions will be in store? At what point in society will I be accepted for who I am and not how much weight I weigh, or how much weight I have lost?

I know that I am still the same person, and I will remain so, but I hope that one day people can see past the weight and see me for who I am.

So for the past few days I have had this odd craving. I want to eat turkey sandwiches everyday. I could eat them every meal. When I get home from the gym, or working out at home, all I want to eat is a turkey sandwich. Now, I have been eating 2, sometimes three a day. It's two slices of 70 calorie (70 calories for both slices) with 3 slices of turkey. My problem is, that I am getting in all my points in a day. There are some days I have 2 or 4 points left over. I know that I have to eat all my points in a day to be successful, but I just can't force myself to eat if I am not hungry.

Oh, I did have a great NSV today. There is a pair of pants that I haven't been able to fit into since I bought them. I decided to try to try them on today. And as they were sliding up my legs, I thought "Oh my God, they fit!". They are a 20 petite. I couldn't believe I could button them. And let me say this, I look fab-u-lous. I put on my button up 18/20 white blouse with my jeans, and I felt like a million bucks. I have never felt this great about myself. This morning reminded me why I am doing this. I am doing it so that I can feel better about myself. And boy do I ever. I had to take a picture because I couldn't believe what I saw in the mirror.

As for the gym, I only it made it there once in the past three days. However, I have managed to exercise and get in my miles each day. Right now in my 1000 mile challenge I am five miles shy of  the 500 mile mark. That's amazing considering I have only been doing it since December. At this rate, I will complete my challenge by June. Back to my week in exercise, Monday I did my "Walk Away the Pounds video" for two miles. Basically you walk in place and do added arm and leg movements for 30 minutes. This video did kick my butt.When I was finished I was sweating and huffing. Hey, can't complain about a great workout. Tuesday I was in the gym for an intense one and a half hour workout. Yesterday, due to scheduling, I walked in the evening around my neighborhood completing 2.5 miles. So, I am ready to hit the gym hard today and reach that 500 miles.

Right now, I just don't know what to do. I feel like I am isolating myself from my weight loss support system. I just get the feeling that they are tired of hearing about it and sick of hearing me talk about myself. It depresses me to think that I no longer have any kind of support system. I am always there for anyone in my life day or night, and now I feel like no one is there for me.

It started with my husband. At first when I would talk about my weight loss he was so excited for me.Then last week, it was like I was bothering him with it. So, getting the hint, I told him that I wouldn't discuss it with him anymore. He seemed to be angry, but I feel like part of him felt relief. It was like he was thankful I wasn't chattering on about myself anymore. Later in the week I sent my sister a message telling her how excited I was to lose my weight. She sends me a message that she's worried about me. She's worried that I am taking on too much and not getting enough sleep. I told both of them, that I would perfer to do this on my own, and that I won't be mentioning my weight loss with them again.

I just thought, you know what, it was so much easier when I was fatter. Then, I didn't care about myself and I had all the time to listen to everyone else's drama and what they wanted. Now, that I have something I am excited about, I'm a burden to everyone else. It's almost like everyone would prefer me to be the fat jolly Wendy, than the chatty thinner version. So, I won't e-mail, message or tell anyone about my weight loss. We can talk about anything else, just not that.

It's fine, I don't need anyone to encourage me. I have come this far alone, and I can continue that way. No one goes to the gym with me and reminds me that I need to workout everyday. No one is here to make sure that I eat healthy, or that I am taking care of myself. No one is helping remove the stress from my life so that I am not tempted to eat. For nearly two years, I have been the one to do this, and that is how I will continue on my own.

On to a lighter topic, because there is no reason to dwell on other people. I attended a wedding reception this weekend and I was very proud of myself. There was plenty of  food there, from stuffed mushrooms, spicy chicken, to grilled veggies. I am delighted to say that I had 10 pieces of shrimp, two crab claws, 4 slices of pineapple, and four pieces of grilled zucchini. For dinner we had vegetable soup, Caesar salad, chicken, mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables.  We did stay for the cutting of the cake, but did not indulge in any of it. I was very happy with my choices. It was interesting though. Through out the whole night people continued to comment to me on how much weight I lost and how great I looked. It made me feel very proud of myself, and reinforced why I was losing the weight.

Oh, on a quick side note. My weigh in today was 237.6. I am down 132.4 pounds. I only have 37.6 pounds until I am under 200 pounds. By summer, I know I will be there.

This evening I was chatting with my husband. I felt there was this disconnection between us. I told him that he was being selfish, that all he was ever interested in was himself and what he wanted. We decided to take a break from talking to each other, and I decided to send him an e-mail letting him know exactly how I felt.


Perhaps it was cruel of me to do this while he is so far away, but it's time that he steps up and makes some changes in his life. I'm sorry, but I can't wait forever to be happy with him. It's just not fair to me.

Today is much better day than the last few days have been. I guess I have just been in a dark place. I  felt that I had to acknowledge what was buried so deep inside. These feelings have been bottled up for years. I had to confront my demons, and now I can move on. It's a wonderful release. I can finally accept what has happened and move on. I can learn and grown from these things. I can allow myself to be happy.

With that being said, I can move on to a lighter topic. Today, I peeked at the scale. I know, I know, my weigh in is Monday's but I wanted to see what my weight was today. I was shocked. The scale read 237.4. Oh my gosh, I am below 240 pounds. Now, I know that number doesn't count, in my mind at least, until it's an offical weigh in number on a Monday. I had to share my exciting news with my sister.

"Hey, you. Haven't talked to you a while. I wanted to just give you a quick update because I was so excited. I jumped on the scale today (not my offical weigh in day) and guess what? I am at 237.4 pounds. Yes girl, I am under 250. How awesome is that! I am now 38.4 pounds away from being under 200 pounds. I haven't weighed that in like 12 years! (At least 11th grade) So far I have lost now 132.6 pounds. That's a whole person. Sure it's hard work. I just can't believe I am doing it. I was in size 28 /30 pants almost 2 years ago, now I am in 18/20s! I am hoping by Thanksgiving to be at my goal weight of 169. I know that's still 68.4 pounds away, but I know know I can do it! I am already 66 percent of the way there. When I reach that goal I will have lost 201 pounds! I just had to gloat. I was so excited when I saw I was under 240 pounds. For the first time in a LONG time, I am a normal weight!" To be honest, it feels a little good to toot my own horn.

I was chatting with my husband today on instant messenger. I was telling him about my weight, loss. I told him about my weight being 237.4 pounds.

What keeps me right where I am? Can I say that I am happy with where I am in life? With everything that I have been through in my personal relationships, why am I right here at this point in my life? I admitted to myself the answer tonight, it's confidence, rather my lack there of. I have always thought that there was no one out there who would accept me for how I looked, or who would accept me for who I was. I compromised my wants and needs to accept the way things were. There's always something in the back of my mind that says "Just be thankful, you could have things worse."

Don't get me wrong, I want pity from no one. I want no one to feel sorry for me. I put myself in this position in my life. There was never a point where I accepted who I was. It didn't matter if I was 200 pounds or 370 pounds, I never accepted who I was. People see me, and find that hard to believe. I am the person who always has a smile on her face. I volunteer and help anyone in need. Usually, I an the first person to find the brighter side to things. The problem is, I don't do those things for myself, I do them for everyone else. When you have a smile on your face it makes everyone else's day a little brighter. When you help someone in need, they feel a little less lost. But, when will it be time for me to help myself?

For so long, I accepted the skin that I was in. No, I didn't love myself, but I had accepted what I had become. Looking back, how could anyone find me attractive, when I didn't find that in myself? Tonight I was talking to a friend. We were discussing my marriage, and I admitted the rocky parts of it. He asked me why I would stay with my husband through everything I have been through with him. I sat for a second thinking about this, then admitted, it's because I have no self esteem. No, not low self esteem, no self esteem. In my mind, if I were to leave my husband, there would be no one out there who would love me, who would accept me for me. In my warped mind, since my husband stayed with me when I was morbidly obese, he's the only one who would ever want me.

Now, after I lost 130 pounds, I am the same no-self esteem girl that I was a year and a half ago. Sure, I weigh less, but that doesn't change my mind. To me, no matter what happens in my relationship, I will always feel that no one will ever love me, that I should accept the love I do receive. I suppose, that after things happen for so long, you become numb to feelings. It's like if you keep hitting you finger with a hammer, sure you can feel pain at first, but after a while it's the sensation in your finger you feel and not the pain.

I'm not a stupid woman by any means. I know that my husband did not marry me for my looks. I am just being brutally honest with myself here. As painful as it is, I must admitted to myself. I know the type of women that my husband is attracted to and I do not fit the mold. It's has always been skinny little blonds, who are eye candy. He always wants what other's will admire. Yeah, I don't fit that mold at all. My husband married me because I was stable. I could cook, clean, and take care of the house. I was a wonderful mother figure. Oh, and there was the most important element, I made money. Yes, I had "earning potential". He will never admit these things, but it's the truth.

There are so many things, in just the past six months or so that reinforce this feeling:

• I know of the e-mail messages from other women.
• I know of the text messages, and the private phone conversations. When I would reach for his cell phone he would never let me see it.
• When I would look at his cell phone, while he was in the shower, I would see that he would text things like "I love you, I miss you" to other women.
  
• The last cell phone bill, while he was in the states, had over 10,000 text messages, not a single one of them were to me.
• Last fall, there were the photos of a female friend of his, half naked on our digital camera. Very calmly I asked him what these pictures were doing on our camera, and why he took them. His claim was she wanted him to put them on a website for her.
• A friend of mine saw a profile of my husband's on a dating website, last year. We have been married 6 years, so you can see where I am going with this.This person set up a fake Myspace account and contacted him. My friend wanted to see if the dating website profile was done as a joke. My husband responded right away, and was willing to meet with this fake girl. I was given the transcripts of the conversations.When confronted, his defense was that someone was trying to set him up. He didn't understand why someone was trying to ruin his life. He said that he knew it was a fake all along, and just played along.
  

So, after reading this, and my other entries, anyone would ask, why do you stay? I've been asking myself that for sometime now. But today, I found an answer. I have found happiness in parts of my life without Tim. I have lost 130 pounds of weight all on my own. I am working out at the gym everyday. I am getting our finances in order. I am improving our home. In the first time in 10 or so years I have found honest happiness with myself. I'm afraid that if we go our separate ways that it would jeopardize this delicate balance I have found in my life. Would I become depressed, start eating and gain back all my weight? What would happen with the finances, the house, and the cars?  Could I find happiness again?

Perhaps there will come a time that I am happy in my own skin. Perhaps there will come a time, at my goal weight maybe, that I can look at myself and know that I am worth so much more. Perhaps, one day, I will find the confidence I need to move on. Until that time, I can only work on me. There's is only one person I can change in my life, and that's the person I am.

I will never change Tim, and I can't make him love me the way I need to be loved. It's him that I feel truely sorry for. He's the one who doesn't realize that one day, his world could come crashing down. He could lose it all, and he only has himself to blame. It's a shame though, he doesn't realize what a wonderful, loving, caring, amazing wife he has right in front him because he's always searching for someone else. He's missing out on knowing me and loving me. That will be his life's regret, not mine.

Today it's a rainy late winter day. One of those days that all you want to do is stay inside, curl up with a good book and hide away from the world. Unfortunate for me, I was the lucky duck who gets to work third shift this week at my job. While this normally is not a problem, in fact in enjoy the break at times, it has been reeking havoc on my diet. Come to think of it, third shift should be illegal. No one should have to suffer this torture. The mindless eating.

No, I haven't gone over any of my points, or missed a workout, but I feel like I am constantly hungry. I could eat every hour. I know that it's from boredom and not hunger, but that doesn't help me keep my hands out of the refrigerator. Currently I get 29 points a day. So, I try to plan my meals and snacks carefully. Today after waking up I had a low sodium turkey, hot sauce and wheat sandwich. On my way to work for lunch at 9:00 PM, I stopped by Wendy's and grabbed a Spicy Chicken Sandwich, no mayo, and a garden salad (which Wendy's managed to mess up and give me a Caesar salad instead) Then, I stopped at the grocery store, picked up some fresh fruit, salsa, celery and water. My last stop was Subway to pick up dinner, a turkey on wheat no cheese, no mayo with veggies. So, I have all my points planned out for the evening.Everything should be fine according to Wendy's divine WW plan right?

 Well, let's just say, I keep eating salsa on celery stocks. While one stalk of celery has 9 calories and two tablespoons of salsa has 4 calories (fresh salsa not from a jar). Each serving has 13 calories. So it's a 0 point snack. I guess I just feel guilty about eating so much, at two servings. With that being said, I have to admit it's a wonderful snack that is satisfying my craving for salt. I was worried about the sodium intake as well, but each serving of salsa only has 74 mg of sodium or 3% of your daily intake. So, no water retention here!

I'll just be glad to be back on 3rd this week. My body isn't sure what to do. Working out after work yesterday was grueling. At one point in time, I looked up from the magazine I was reading on the elliptical machine to look at the clock. One eye was all blurry and the other went the wrong direction. I was tired, and my eyes were feeling the effects of it. I tried to wink and blink to correct it, but that just made some of the guys in the gym think I was flirting with them. I only went 7 miles and burned 928 calories. By the end of that workout I was dragging my but to my car.

When I reached my car, I was famished, having not eat anything by 90 calories worth of pretzels in six hours. I found an apple on the front seat that I had purchased the day before.I consumed that apple, like it was going to be my last supper. It was the juiciest, sweetest, most delicious food I had ever eaten. Apple juice was running down my face, and I didn't care. At one point, I believe I was ready to eat the core as well, but decided that would be against my better judgment. Who knew that something as simple as an apple could be so fulfilling?

Tonight, as I was walking from Subway to my car, my pants started to fall down around my hips. It seems that I have no pants that fit anymore. I laughed to myself as I pulled them up past my belly towards my chest, pulling a Steven Urkle if you will. As I walked down the side walk, holding my pants up with one hand and my dinner in my other, I thought to myself "I can finally let my past go." It was odd for me to think that in that exact instant in time. But as I continued to walk I thought to myself. "I forgive my husband and my mother for the things that they have done. I forgive myself." It was in that instance, I believe I dropped all those feelings of regret, anger and loss. Walking to my car, I realized I can finally start to heal. It's funny, that it took losing weight, and a pair of pants not fitting for me to let things so. That in itself has been the most rewarding part of this journey so far.

Behind every engagement ring is a story. Each story is as unique as the person wearing the ring. What makes me tell my story today? Well, today I saw my first engagement ring from my husband hanging on my jewelry stand. Since my wedding band and current engagement ring do not fit anymore, I have lost so much weight that they fall of my hand, I thought I would try on my first engagement ring. To my surprise, it too no longer fit, and slid down my finger. It reminded me why I have two engagement rings.

After dating my husband for three months, we decided to move into an apartment together. We were both 19 years old. He had never lived on his own before, and was staying with his mother while attending medical classes. I was living at home with my family after graduating college. When we started dating my husband soon became concerned about the role I was taking at home. My paycheck was a little more than my father's and my mother wasn't working. I had started to take on the responsibly of some of the bills in our house. This concerned my husband, because he did not feel it was in my place to take care of such things for my whole family.

It was around the same time that his relationship with his mother became strained. While watching TV one night, I feel asleep on his bed. His mother thought that we were having sex, and that we were being disrespectful to her in her house. She gave him two options, to leave me or move out. Within a week, I had found an apartment and we moved in together. He had made his decision, he wanted to be with me.

It was difficult for us during that time because we were starting out on our own, yet every where we turned there were road blocks. My family thought that we were living in sin, that I had abandoned them. While his family was unsure of me and my intentions, which I was unsure why. The lease for the apartment was in my name only, I wasn't  going anywhere. I was working full time, and made more money than Tim. So, I wasn't after him for his money, I had my own. Yet the tension was still there. With all the roadblocks that we had, we knew that we loved each other and that's all that mattered to us.We were comfortable in the relationship the way it was, so how did an engagement come to be?

It was the first week of August in 1999, and I was at work. Tim had called me at work, and asked that I met him and his mother, we all needed to talk. I went into my bosses office and told him that I had to leave for a family emergency, and he understood. When I arrived at his mother's house, to my surprise they wanted to talk to me about my future with Tim. Gail, Tim's mother, wanted us to work out a plan. This plan included him and I moving away from Somerset, Pennsylvania to Lancaster, Pennsylvania to start a new life. There was no work in the area for us, and if we wanted to make it, we had to move. We drove back to our apartment before I went back to work at lunch time to have lunch together. I remember thinking how wonderful things were going to be, we would finally catch our break.

That's when I received the phone call. The worst call of my life. I remember picking up the phone, and our family friend Julie was on the other line. I was chipper, of course due to the events of the day, but noticed there was a silence at the other end of the line. She said "Oh, my God, you didn't hear did you?" My heart stopped, I had no idea what she could be talking about. She said "People have been trying to reach you all day. We've been worried about you." I asked her what she was talking about. She said "They found Melanie dead this morning in her apartment." I dropped to my knees on the floor and started crying over and over again "No, No, No." Tim not understanding what was happening took the phone from me and started to ask Julie questions.

I couldn't hear any of it, because my mind was blocking it out. It wasn't true, it couldn't be true, Melanie couldn't be dead. I just saw her the previous week. She was one of my closest and dearest friends from high school. She was the one who told me to tell Dustin I loved him. She was the one who set Tim and I up. She was the one I called when I had exciting news.She was the one who told me two weeks earlier that she was expecting her second child. She couldn't be dead, it was all lies.

Tim hung up the phone and helped me to the kitchen table. He held my hands and told me what Julie had told him. Melanie was found dead in her apartment the day before. She had been found in her kitchen in a sleeping bag. The police were unsure what happened, they didn't believe it was drug related. Suddenly, everyone was calling our apartment to make sure that I was alright. People stopped by that evening to try to console me, it was no use, I was lost.

After the funeral, I was mess. It was hard for me to sleep. At night I would dream that she was alive, she would tell me that everything was fine. I would wake up with in the hopes that it were true, and would be trusted back into reality. I would blame myself for what happened. If only I had called her a day before it happened. If only I went to see her when she asked me to stop by her apartment. There was a world of what if's that I was living in. One night, while lying in bed, Tim asked me, what would make me feel better, that's when I blurted out to him "Ask me to marry you." In that instance I thought that by us getting married it would take the sting of Melanie's death away. It would fill that void. I know now, it wasn't the right thing to say, but looking back I know why I did it. He said that he would, and soon after we started to look at engagement rings.

The ring that we picked out was a small ring. I believe the cost was around 99 dollars. It had 12 small diamonds around it. It was very simple.We were just starting out, and we were doing this all on our own. The night he proposed to me, he made me a dinner of sausage and chili, one of the only things he knew how to cook. After dinner at our kitchen table he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. I happily said yes. He said that he knew the ring was small, but it was just a starter ring, and once we got our lives together and was making more money, he would buy me a bigger ring. At that time I didn't care, the ring was perfect, because I was engaged. A few years later, when we purchased our wedding bands, he did purchase that big fancy 3/8th diamond engagement ring for me. But, I still held onto my first ring. I couldn't part with it. I suppose to me, it signified a life that was lost, and a life that was found.

Putting it on my finger today was bittersweet for me. Seeing the ring not fit showed me that I have lost more weight than I thought. I now weigh less than what I did when I met my husband. That in it's self should make me feel proud of myself. However, there was bitterness to it as well. When Tim gave me that ring, I felt like everything could be okay, that I could make some sense in the world, I could go on. All things that I would never get to share with Melanie. I thought of all the things I would never share with her.

Now, all I can do is look at the ring and remember Melanie. Someone who was taken too soon from this world. Someone who would never lay eyes on the ring. Someone who was Tim and my biggest supporter. Someone who had hope for all of us. Someone I love and miss so dearly.

We have all had embarrassing things happen to us.  Things that make you want to dig a whole in the ground and bury your head in it. When you are overweight, or more specific, obese, you find that you have more of these things happen to you then most people. Sure you try to get creative in working around it, or you tell yourself "It happens to the best of them", but you know in your heart it doesn't. You know, that it only happens to overweight people.

It's hard to discuss these things now, but I feel that I must. I have to acknowledge my past to go forward with my future. While funny or overlooked at the time they occurred they are painful and embarrassing now. Perhaps writing them down will allow me to release the shame, and let me move forward.

• Public Bathrooms: So what would be so wrong with a bathroom? Well, when you are over 300 pounds, just about everything. When going shopping and eating out, I would dread having to use a public bathroom stall. To me, they felt like little coffins. Sometimes they were so small that I could not turn around in one, I had to back up into the stall like a truck. You might as well put backup indicators on me. Once I was in the stall, and on the toilet, that's when the real contortionist act began. My thighs would press up against the sides of the stall. There was no room to move. My knees would smash against the toilet paper holder, pain would shot through my leg. My thighs were so smashed together. There were times that I wondered how I would wipe myself. That took an act of God in these tiny death chambers. Bathroom stalls where designed for a smaller group in mind, and to save space. Even though over half the American population is overweight, we can seem to get larger stalls. That's something to complain about to customer service.
  
• Home Bathroom: When you are at home you want the comfort of being able to use all the fixtures in your bathroom. May 2005, my husband and I purchased our new home. There were two bathrooms, one upstairs and one on the main floor. The one upstairs is quite spacious, with a shower stall. The one downstairs is set up a little different. The shower and toilet are right next to each other, making a stall effect. In June 2006, it was difficult for me to use the toilet downstairs, see above for the reason why. I found myself going upstairs. That's when I started to realize, that it wasn't the bathroom that was the problem, it was me.
  
• Bathtubs. Anyone who is overweight will tell you that taking a bath is more of a chore than a pleasure. Just lowering myself into a bath was painful and dangerous. My knees would cry out in my. My wrist would tremble and shake. Would both of them hold out to lower me into the water? Then, once in the tub, which is average size, I would find that all the water would get stuck in the back of the tub. My thighs would press against the sides of the tub and trap the water behind me. It was my own personal Hoover Damn. Getting out of the tub, was painful as well. It took all my might and strength to pull myself up. After a while, I stopped taking baths, and only showered. There was less pain, and no fear of getting stuck in the tub.
• Eating: To think back now, I did eat different. I would say "I don't eat to much." "I never snack." "I eat the same as everyone else." But the problem was that wasn't true. When I would eat at subway I would get a 12 inch Italian BMT on white with cheese, oil, vingear, mayo with a bag of Doritos. My husband would ask if I was going to eat that all, and I would say yes. (He would never argue with me over what I ate.) When it came to eating at McDonald's everything was always a large, sometimes I would get a value meal with a extra set of chicken nuggets. If there was ice cream or cookies in the house, I would it until it was gone. A dinner, I would pile my plate as high as my husband's with food, then go back for seconds. I had no idea of portion control. And when I ate, I was always done eating before anyone else. I would eat my food quickly, almost inhaling it. Then I would sit talking to everyone while they ate and enjoyed their food.
  
• Being the Largest Person in the Room: When you are overweight, it's a sub conscience thing you do. When you are in a room with people, you look around the room, to see if there is anyone else there your size. Work for example, I knew that I had gained weight, but it wasn't something that I dwelled on. Then one day, one of the men I worked with mentioned that he was almost 290 pounds. I was in shock, because for the first time I realized that I was the largest person in the office, quite possibly the whole building. I was embarrassed, what did other people think of me? How was it that everywhere I went, every family gathering, work, could I be the largest person in the room?
• Shopping: I remember a few years back shopping at Lane Bryant. For years they were the only store I could shop at. I went in with a gift card, and wanted to purchase a pair of jeans. I found one pair of size 28's and took them into the dressing room. I was able to get them on, but when I looked in the mirror I cried. There was one pair of pants that fit me. What would I do if I kept gaining weight, soon, there would be nothing to fit me. When it came to purchasing bras, same thing. I was a size 42 DD. When you shop, you see B and C, some times a D, but to find a DD is like finding gold at the end of a rainbow. Even then, the bras were tight and ill fitting. I just thought to myself, this is what life is like, just learn to deal with it.
• Eating in secret: This was something that I didn't do often, but I admit there were times that I did it. I would go through a drive through and order a meal before going home from work. Afraid that my husband would see the bag, I would put the evidence in the garbage cans outside the house before going in. I was ashamed that I couldn't wait the 20 minute it took to get home to eat. After leaving work, there were times when I just wanted to eat. I would consume the food in record speed. (It's a wonder I didn't choke myself.) I knew that it took 20 minutes to eat a burger, fries, and a coke before getting home. Then, when I would get home, I would ask him if he wanted something to eat, and I would eat with him. I felt dirty and shameful, but I felt relieved to know that I had hid the evidence and no one would know.
  
• Comments about your weight: Everyone has an answer. Everyone know what you need to do the lose the weight. They suggest a diet, working out, seeing a doctor. Everyone knows the right answer but you. You listen to what people suggest, and you say to yourself, I don't have a problem. It's like a drug addict during an intervention. After I had lost around 70, my father came to my house for a visit. He said to me "I didn't want to say anything, but you had me scared kiddo." I was ashamed and disappointed in myself. He never meant any harm with the comment, he was trying to help me. In that moment in time, there was a flash of anger, I thought to myself  "There was nothing ever to be worried about!". But there was, and deep in my heart I knew it.
• Swimming: When I was younger I loved to swim. We didn't have a pool, or a local community center, so our parents would take a to a local swimming hole. We would swim for hours, until my mother would make us get out of the water. I remember loving the way the water felt on mt skin. When I was at 370 pounds, I didn't want to go swimming, or if we did go to the beach I would wear a long t-shirt and shorts. I never wanted to be seen in a bathing suit. I've had the same bathing suit for 6 years, and have worn it three times. It sad that I gave up something that I loved so much, because I was ashamed of how I look.

At least I can look back now and say to myself "Look how far you have come." I have no reason to be embarrassed now. These things are in the past now, and I can move on. It feels good to have that boulder off my shoulders.

There are several different ways someone can end their life. People take drastic measures to try to ease their pain. There are different weapons of choice; alcohol, drugs, guns, cars, water, just about anyway one can image. I know now that my weapon was food. I've always believed suicide was the cowards way to die. What I didn't realize was that I was taking the longest road to get to the same point.

During my teenage years I was a depressed person. I was good in school, had several close friends, and had a bright future in front of me. My depression didn't come from within, it came from my mother and her life. For a long as I can remember, my mother treated me like a friend instead of a daughter. I was the one that she turned to when she needed to talk or confided in someone. I remember as a teenager my mother and I would stay up until I could see the headlights of my father's truck pulling into the drive way. She would quickly usher me into my room, so that my father didn't know that I was up past my bedtime.

What was it that we talked about? Okay, talking really isn't the word, it was more like she spoke, I listened. She would talk about the financial problems that she and my father were having. She would vent about the frustrations in my parents marriage. No topic was off limits. So there I was as a teenager dealing with real life problems, and I didn't know what to do, I was only 15 years old. What did I know about life? I do know that I spent many nights awake in bed worrying about what bills needed to be paid, if my parents were going to be alright, and anything else that would float in and out of my brain. It started then, the constant inner dialog that has never ceased.

When I was 16 my mother was involved in a terrible car accident. The doctors told my father they didn't have much hope of her surviving, the crash should have killed her. She was driving in a large conversion van, and a car hit her head on, while the other car was trying to pass someone on the road. My mother was life flighted to the hospital with several injuries. It was then, my childhood ended, and I became an adult. With my mother lying in a hospital, and my father working second shift, I was the one to take care of my sisters; ages 15 and 10 and my brother who was 11. It was my responsibility to makes sure they were up for school, showered, dressed and feed each morning. When they got home from school, it was up to me to see that the house was clean, the homework was done, dinner was cooked, and they made it to bed by bed time. I remember getting my driver's license so that I could take my brother and sister to wrestling practice, get groceries, and do whatever else that needed to be done. At 16, I became a mother.

My mother did recover from her injuries and returned home a month or so later, but she wasn't the same. She was angry and bitter towards life. The doctors had her on pain medication, which made her groggy and tired. The every day tasks, cooking and cleaning were still my responsibility until I left home a year later, after that the torch was passed to my sister Candee. Now, don't get me wrong it is good for children to have chores, it teaches them responsibility, but there I was cooking, doing dishes, sweeping the floors, doing laundry for six other people. All the while, I was a good student in school. I was a member of the National Honor Society, member of the school chorus and was active in theater arts, the school's drama team.

It was around that time, that I see that I started to gain weight. The weight of the world was on my shoulders. How could I take care of a family, keep my grades up, and be there for my mother? This was the year that I tried to be perfection, not realizing that it wasn't obtainable. The harder I tried, the more I failed. The more I failed, the more depressed I came. The more depressed I came, the more I ate. Thus the vicious cycle began.

It was hard for all of us in my family. My youngest sister would become so angry with me and say "You want to be the mother so bad don't you?" No, I didn't want to be the mother. I wanted to be like every other 16 year old girl, but I couldn't. I had to stay home and make sure everyone ate and was taken care of. There were no Homecoming dances or football games for me. I had to give up basketball, because it conflicted with everyone else's life. It was painful to realize that the Wendy who was carefree was gone, and a confused adult took her place.

During that time, I was always second guessing myself. There was an inner voice (mine own, I'm not crazy here) that was telling me "Why are you the one to do this, this isn't fair." "Why can't I be a teenager?" The voice would say "It is your responsibility to do this, you are the oldest, you can't let everyone down, you can't be failure." The voice was there all the time, day and night. I found that when I ate, the voice would disappear. When I ate, that was the only time when I felt alone and felt a peace. There was no one asking when dinner would be ready. There was no voice telling me I was wrong. That's all I wanted, was to feel at peace. Food gave me that peace, if only for a short time.

Since food was the only way I knew how to get the feelings of rejection, disappointment, and failure to stop, I continued eating through college. When I was stressed, I would eat. When I would receive bad news from home, you guessed it, I would eat. Now, fast forward a few years. After meeting my husband, and moving 150 miles away from my family I became depressed again. The only person I had in my life was my husband, and we were seeing the cracks in our relationship that was causing problems between us. I decided to go to the doctor to see what could be done. After a short visit, perhaps 5 minutes, he prescribed an anti-depressant and sent me on my way.

I started to take the medication and right away I notice a difference. I wasn't hungry any more, in fact, my husband had to remind me to eat. I lost 20 pounds during the four weeks I was on the medication. My mind was a ease. Well, it was a little different than that. I explained to my husband that my mind was like Jello. I would sit on the couch in front of the TV and just stare at it. What's the saying, the lights are on but no one is home? That's what I was like. I was a zombie and it scared me. I stopped taking the medication and never spoke to a doctor again about what was happening in my mind. I thought, I can deal with this on my own.

How wrong I was. After I stopped taking the medication, I started eating again. It was during that time that Tim reunited with Michelle and that drama was playing itself out. I gained around 50 pounds during the two years before my separation from my husband. Each time he did something to hurt me, each time he lied to me, each time he betrayed me I would reach out to food. It didn't matter what it was, fast food, donuts, cakes, cookies, chips, whatever was in reach was my friend.

In 2002 when I left my husband, I was at around 309 pounds. I moved into an apartment. During that time, I became severely depressed. I had no one in my life. I wasn't going to talk to anyone about what was happening between Tim and I. If I did, I would have to admit failure, and I couldn't bring myself to do that. I had to be perfect, and living on the verge of divorce is not perfection. There was one time I remember laying  in my bedroom on a blow up air mattress (he kept the bed), crying my eyes out, not knowing how to fix everything. I would take two sleeping pills and nothing would happen, an hour later I would take two more, this went on for four or five hours. All I wanted to do was sleep, I wanted to stop thinking everything and anything. At this point, there was no food that could help me, in my mind no one or no thing could help me.

I didn't fall asleep that night, but I do realize now that this was in fact a failed suicide attempt. I never meant it to be, but it was just that. It was too hard for me to deal with all that was going wrong in my life. My husband was chasing after the woman that I left him because of. He was calling me asking me when I was going to pay credit card bills. I was behind on my own bills, because I was trying to pay the credit card bills. This is when I stopped caring how I ate, stopped caring how I looked. If I had the money, I would eat fast food. During this time, I would eat whatever I could get my hands on. There was nothing that was going to fill the emptiness in my life. Food was the only comfort I had. And it showed on the scale. I was up to 319 pounds.

When my youngest sister Jenny graduated high school, two months later, she moved in with me. I believe with all my heart, she is the person who saved my life. She saved me from me. She was the one who would remind me that it wasn't my fault what happened between Tim and myself. He was the asshole. She was the one who reminded me that I couldn't be perfect, perfection was an allusion.  Bless her heart, she doesn't know this, but she was the one who reminded me that my life was worth living.

My husband and I were separated for 12 months. I told him that I needed 12 months to decided what I wanted to do. It was around the forth month of our separation that it dawned on me, that we were over and I needed to move on. I found a site on the internet that you could file your own divorce with no lawyers. It was 299 dollars. I was trying to pay my bills and take care of the credit card bills that Tim and I made together, so it was difficult for me to pay for this, but I did. I sent him the website link and asked him to fill out the forms. I wanted a divorce, I wanted to move on. He refused to fill out the paper work, citing that he still loved me and thought we could try to make things work in a few months. The woman he was seeing would be moving away, and he could then decide what he wanted. But I already knew what I wanted, I wanted to move on.

My sister suggested that I put my ad up on a dating website that catered to men in search of "Big, Beautiful, Women". My first thought was "Who would want to date a fat chick?" What did I have to lose though? I set up a profile, and posted a picture. I never anticipated getting any hits. I was around 330 pounds at this time, who would want to date me? To my surprise I had several hit on my ad, and went out with a few of the men. That's when I realized that I wasn't ready for dating, or the men that are out there.

The first guy, I spoke to on the phone a few times, but never met in person. The first thing that I noticed in talking to him was he was already talking about having children during our first phone conversation. He said to me "When I have children they will not be permitted to eat any junk food or McDonald's. I know what it's like to get picked on as a child because of your weight and I don't want that for my children." Whoa, hold on, who talks about children or bad childhood memories the first time to speak to someone? As nice as he was, I think there were issues there that I wasn't ready to deal with. We parted ways after a IM fight, when I blocked him. I didn't have the energy to deal with drama, especially when we were only talking on the phone.

The last gentleman I saw moved way to fast for my liking. After an hour of chatting he wanted to meet me. Now, I'm not dumb, I made sure that my sister was there in case something happened. He showed up at our apartment with a friend. The four of us spent the night talking a playing cards. I thought, this guy seems to have it together, I'll give him a chance. Besides, if he can accept me at my weight, why can't I? After meeting me once, he was calling my cell phone leaving messages telling me that he loved me. After one date telling someone you love them is a too fast. Maybe I was just looking for something to be wrong with him. There had to be something, right?

Well, a few weeks later, while shopping I spotted him with a female. He didn't acknowledge me, he couldn't look me in the eye. I asked my sister, who was there with me, what was the problem. She, trying to spare my feelings told me "It might be his sister. You never know." Yeah, I did know, at least my gut knew. That night I IMed his friend. He told me that the girl with him was an ex-girlfriend. He had dumped her several months earlier, yet she wouldn't accept the fact that they had broken up. "Oh, great" I thought, "Here we go again." His friend told him about the conversation, and he called me. I told him that I wasn't into playing those head games, I didn't' have the time or the energy to do it. That's when he had the nerve to say "I'm a great person, you don't want to miss this chance to be with me. You only get one shot." That's alright, I'll pass, I didn't need to be with someone that bad.

After the last experience I gave up on internet dating. A month later, Tim's friend moved away, and he was ready to try to make things work. Seeing how I wasn't finding any luck with the internet or meeting people on my own, I told him that we could try again. We moved into a townhouse together and started working on our relationship. It was during that time that I started the South Beach diet. I wanted to change my life. It was a time for second chances, and I had to give myself a second chance. I am unsure how much I weighed at the time. My husband's scale was a digital fat monitor scale that only went to 300 pounds. My scale was one that went to 300, but it was one with a dial. I remember being on the scale and being "around" 340 pounds.

The South Beach diet did work for me, until I gave up on it. I lost around 40 pounds on the diet. Sure it sounds great to be able to eat meats and veggies, and cut out all carbs, but what I found was that I loved carbs. Carbs are what made me the happiest. During my diet I was one of the most unhappy people I knew. There's no sugar, alright, minimal sugar on this diet. I found that I would snap at people for no reason, and I was never happy. After 2 months, this diet was over and there I was stuck in the same body. It wasn't until Weight Watchers in 2006, that I learned how to eat, and found happiness in myself.

What does all of this rambling boil down to. In the end, I was tying to kill myself with food. For so many years I could not find one thing in my life that made me happy, that made me whole. I gave up on everything that I started, I could never finish a project, I would just lose interest. I stopped reading, something I loved to do as a child. I stopped playing my keyboard, it just didn't interest me anymore. I stopped listening to music, something that was my life as a teenager. I stopped caring about how much weight I gained. What did it matter? I didn't care what happened to me, and that's when my weight reached 370 pounds.

I remember one afternoon, I was sitting in the dining room of our house. I was crying with my hands on my face. My husband came in and sat down beside me and asked what was wrong. At first I told him nothing, that was always my first answer. He kept asking me to tell him, that's when I blurted out "Who are you sleeping with, because I know it's not me. " There was a surprised look on his face, and he said that there was no one else. I confronted him by saying "We have slept in separate bedrooms for months. You won't touch me and you won't kiss me. We have had sex only twice in a year. I'm not stupid, men have needs, so where are you getting it from?" He said nothing. I asked him "Why won't you have sex with me." The only answer I ever got when I would ask this question was "I don't know". It made me furious. How could I fix something if he couldn't tell me what was wrong? Nothing was resolved that night. It wasn't until I lost 75 pounds that we had sex again. I know in the core of my soul it was my weight, but he would never tell me that. It was the one thing that he could never be honest with me about. He knew that if he told me that, I would leave him.

After the doctor's visit, that change my life in 2006, I realized I had to stop trying to kill myself with food. I had to make changes, for myself and no one else. It was the first time in 10 years that I was doing something for me, and not someone else. I had to learn to take care of myself. I couldn't do this for anyone other than me, if I did I knew I would fail, and that I would be dead. At 370 pounds I was well on my way to a heart attack, stroke, diabetes, and high blood pressure. Could I do it, could I take time for me, and make myself the most important person in my life?

Well, here I sit today weighing 241 pounds. I have lost 129 pounds. I am now reading books like they are going out of style. Since my husband has been in Egypt, three months, I have finished reading three books. Steven King's "Duma Key", coming in at over 600 pages, took me six days to read. I am now reading "Confessions of a Carb Queen, but Susan Blech.".  Next month, I am taking a sewing class with my best friend Stacy. We are going to learn how to sew. (My home economics teacher only let us sew paper. The school was afraid we would damage the sewing machines.) I am going to the gym six days a week, and I am on mile 432.23 of my 1,000 mile challenge. And the greatest accomplishment of all, I finally for the first time in my life feel like I do have a purpose in life. I have stopped trying to kill myself by eating myself to death. I am going out there an living life. Isn't that the greatest gift of all, the gift of life?

There was a great idea on the Weight Watcher website today. The WW member was doing the math of what percent of the way she was from her goals: (http://www.weightwatchers.com/community/mbd/post.aspx?page_size=25&rownum=31&threadpage_no=2&sincedate=2%2f28%2f2008+12%3a00%3a00+AM&thread_id=116260930&board_id=100&forum_id=1&thread_name=OKAY%2c+its+Math+time!!!+(NO+Don't+run+away!!)&mod_no=&daterange=2days&viewchange=OPENDATEDESC)

I though it would be fun to see what my percentage were:

I am 91.83% of the way to my 225 pound goal.
I am 81.22% of the way to my being under 200 pound goal.
I am 75.51% of the way to having lost 50% of my weight. (185 lbs)
I am 68.97% of the way to my final goal (169 lbs)

I have lost 33.78% of my body weight.

How shocked that I am that I am 91 percent of the way of reaching my first huge milestone of 225 pounds lost. Seeing that number, it seems so obtainable to reach it. I'm only 8.17 percent away from reaching it. Let's see, assuming my average weight loss is 2 pounds a week, how long until I reach my goals?

    * 225 pound goal.                               10 Weeks / 2 Months        May 5, 2008
    * Being under 200 pound goal.            23 Weeks / 4.6 Months     August 4, 2008
    * Lost 50% of my weight. (185 lbs)     30 Weeks / 6 Months        September 22, 2008  
    * Final goal (169 lbs)                           38 Weeks / 7.6 Months     November 17, 2008

I could reach my goal by Thanksgiving. I would be at my goal weight when my husband returns home from Egypt. How great would that be?

Oh, I  want to post this NSV. The past few days I have been running at the gym on the treadmill. I will run one minute on 5.4 miles, then go back to 4 minutes at 3.0 miles. I do this for 20 minutes. Today, on the last minute I did 6.0 miles for the whole minute. I thought I was going to die when I was finished. I was huffing and puffing. Sweat was dripping off my face, falling on the treadmill, but I did it. I tell myself “Don’t you dare give up.” I will also say “You know you can do this, it’s only 60 seconds.” when I don't think I can do a full 30 seconds. Sure that doesn’t seem like a long time, but 60 seconds at 6.0 miles an hour on a treadmill can seem like a lifetime. It's like there is a personal trainer in my head telling me I can do it. I am excited doing the 6.0 miles in 1 minute , because it only shows me that there are better things to come!

First, let me say thank goodness I didn't go overboard last night with my eating. While I may have been concerned about my husband, that is no excuse for behaving poorly. I did speak to him today. It's been the first day that I physically spoke to him in one month. He sounded good. He said that he is back at his camp, and that the doctors have him on pain medication and muscle relaxers. They believe his pain is from one of two things now acid reflux or a muscle tear in his esophagus. He was told that he will not have to go to the hospital, as long as the pains do not return. Thank God he is alright. I can breathe a sigh of relief now. It was a great gift this morning just to hear his voice.

So today, I am not craving anything, and don't feel like downing a bag of Oreo cookies. Sure there are days like yesterday when I want to just scream "Screw counting points and give me a DQ Blizzard." But what would that do for me? Honestly, I would have a tummy ache, feel sluggish from the sugar (after I come down from the sugar high) and feel bad about myself for giving in. Sure we all need comfort sometimes, but food isn't where I need to search for it. That was the old me. That was the 370 pound me.

I must admit that one of my problems is my water consumption. I have never been a water drinker. I just don't care for the taste of it. It's boring. Being not boring is what made me fat in the first place drinking soda, juices and Vitamin D milk. I try to get in 60 ounces a day. Some days are better than others. I know that it helps with digestion, reduce sodium, and has other uses, but that doesn't motivate me to drink more of it. I can't beat myself up over it though. Before 2006 I would never drink this much water. I was the six sodas a day, juice drinking kind of gal. Water was for health nuts. Anyone who said their favorite beverage was water was insane to me. Seeing that water now, is one of the only beverages I drink, makes me laugh. I am turning into one of the health nuts that I use to make fun of.

It's funny to look back on the way I use to eat. Not funny, sad really. I had no concept of nutrition. I ate what I what when I wanted. A typical day could consist of (mind you I was working 13.5 hours a day) :
                                                                          Calories   Fat      Carbs    Protein
Fast foods, potatoes, hashed brown                      151          9         16          2
Breakfast items, biscuit with egg and sausage         581        39        41         19
Fast foods, submarine sandwich, with cold cuts     456        19         51        22
Carbonated beverage, grape soda                        960          0         250        0
Double cheeseburger                                            650        35        53         30
White potato, french fries, breaded or battered     254        14         30          3
White potato, chips                                              306        20         30          4
Ice cream bar or stick, chocolate covered            278         21         24         3
                                                                          3635      156       496        82       

This is my current way of eating:
Subway 12’ Turkey on Wheat (no cheese)         560             9         92        36
Lays Light Potato Chips                                       75             0         17         2
Wheat Bread (2 slices)                                         70             1         13         3
Cottage Cheese (1%)                                           82             1           3       14
Apple                                                                 125             1         32         0
Lean Cuisine Steak Paninis                                  300             9         33       21
100 Nabisco Pack (2)                                         200            6         32         2
Carrots                                                                 50            0          11         1
                                                                         1462           27       233       79

So according to the math I cut my:

• Calories: 2173 (60%)
• Fat: 129 grams per day (83%)
• Carbs: 263 (53%)
• Protein: 3 (4%)

Looking at those numbers, it's amazing to see that I have cut my fat intake by 83 percent. Also, I managed to keep my protein up as well. Before I was eating 85 points a day. Now I am eating 29 points a day. I couldn't believe that number. No wonder I am losing weight!

I can't stop from crying right now. All I want to do is eat a gallon of ice cream and cry in my jammies. No, I am not going to eat a gallon of ice cream. I don't have any in the house. But I will have a 3 point Weight Watcher's cheesecake desert. I am so frustrated and worried, that I don't know what to do. I went to the gym and took my frustrations our on the gym equipment. I did 70 minutes (6.79 miles) on the elliptical machine, 20 minutes (1.59 miles) on the treadmill, and 10 minutes (.44 miles) on the glider. I did 20 minutes of weight training and 5 to 10 minutes of stretching. I was trying to block out of my life what was happening. Why was it happening to me? What did I do so wrong in my life?

That something that shook my world came in form of an instant message today from my husband in Egypt. In the past few days, he has been having severe pain in his ribs, back and spine. He is currently on 1,000 mg of morphine, and is being sent to a hospital in Israel tomorrow. The Army doctor's can not determine so far for the cause of the pain, and are sending him for tests. It could be anything from stress, an ulcer, acid reflux, to a high anal hernia or muscle tear. Worst case, he will need to have surgery in Israel. If they can not find anything wrong, he will be shipped home.

I am scared out of my mind right now. Here I am 3,000 miles away from him. No phone or internet communication. I have no idea where he will be going, or what they will be doing. I can't go to be with him half way around the world and that it's difficult for me. Sure we have had our ups and downs, what couple hasn't? Through all that we have been through, I still love him and need him.

All these thoughts are going through my head right now about him having surgery. What if he doesn't make it through a surgery? What if they can't find anything wrong? What if they think that it's caused physiologically and not physically?  What if he gets a military medical discharge? What if it's something that we are not prepared for?

That's why I want to eat everything I can get my hands on. It's 9:55 at night, and I still have 4 points left. But I am holding myself back. I am afraid that I will binge and I won't be able to stop myself. I mean, what if that is the only comfort I can find? I have told family and friends about what is happening. All I need right now is for someone to tell me that everything is going to be alright. I need to know that Tim will be alright. God, this is so hard. I know that we are never given more than we can handle, but this is so difficult. I wish I knew what to do.

It's funny, when you are a child, you never think that anything bad can happen. You have this perfect little life, where no one can harm you. Then one day, something happens to you that change that, and it changes you forever. I wish that I could go back to those days, even if for one day. I want to know what it's like again not to worry everyday about every detail in my life. I don't want to worry about being fat anymore or going to the gym. I don't want to worry about my bills anymore or how we are going to make it to the next pay check. I don't want to worry about my husband being sick. All I want is to wake up and my mind be still, my life be still, for one day. For one day, to know what it's like to be a peace with my life.

I have to keep telling myself that he will be alright. He knows how much I need him, and God knows that too. I would be lost without him. When he's here with me, I am his wakeup call every morning. Every night, he nudges me to move over so that the cat has more room on the bed. He's the one who's encouraged me the most to lose my weight. He's the one who taught me how to stand up for myself. I know, I know, I am talking about him like he is dying. But I know, that no matter what happens tomorrow, our lives will change and it's not for the better.

Hunger, we all know the feeling all to well. That feeling of emptiness. The feeling that you need something to fill a void, something to give energy, something of substance. Wikipedia defines it as: "a feeling experienced when the glycogen level of the liver falls below a threshold,^{[citation needed]} usually followed by a desire to eat. The often unpleasant feeling originates in the hypothalamus and is released through receptors in the liver. Although an average nourished human can survive weeks without food intake,^[1] the sensation of hunger typically begins after a couple of hours without eating and is generally considered quite uncomfortable. The sensation of hunger can often be alleviated and even mitigated entirely with the consumption of food." (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hunger)

I was thinking about hunger today. As I was working out I wondered why I was so hungry. I looked at the clock, it was 8:00 PM. The last time I ate anything was at 11:00 AM in the morning. Gee, wonder why I was hungry? I hadn't ate anything in 9:00 hours. It got me thinking about the other hungers in my life. There are things that I hunger for. There's food (of course), attention, sex, and what other have.

Of course the first is food. It's funny, last night I swore I could have eaten everything in the house. I didn't, but I did resort to eating three carrots. This is something I wouldn't normally to. Plain veggies just aren't my thing, yet there I was munching down on a carrot. Then today, I was starving by lunch time. I came to realize around 3:00 PM what was causing me to be so hungry. Yeap, any woman could have guessed it, TOM came to visit. I was reading an article the other day that explained that women burn 300 calories more during the days leading up to TOM. Normally, why women gain weight is because they overeat to compensate for that loss of calories. I could see why. I was eating low sodium turkey right out of the bag. To me, I just could not tame the beast. I am better now, thank God. I couldn't handle another day of hiding in my book to avoid eating.

The next hunger that I have is attention. Now let me say this, I was never one to want anyone's attention, but now that has changed. In losing 125 pounds, I have gained so much confidence. There's this bounce in my step that I never had before. Tonight, I had a nice woman, Linda stop me in the gym after our workout. She said to me "I just wanted to tell you that you are an inspiration to me. Every time I come in here, you are in here working out." I thanked her for her kindness. In all honesty, it felt amazing to be call an inspiration to someone. To have someone look at me and saw, "Wow, I wish I could be like that." It really help dull the hunger pangs for attention.

Sex, now this one is a hard one. With my husband over 3000 miles away, there's not much I can do to quite that hunger pain. Well, that's not entirely true. Hey, get your mind out of the gutter, that wasn't what I was thinking. (Although...) I was going to say, that I channel that sexual hunger into my workouts. It's amazing how much sexual frustration one person can have pent up inside them. That poor elliptical machine doesn't know what hit it. By the time my husband comes home in November I will be lean and mean from all the frustration I have taken out on the gym equipment. He better watch out!

The last one is a little harder to explain, I hunger for what others have. I hunger for the acceptance that my sister has with her body. She's around the same weight as I am now. She confided in me that she no longer goes to the gym, she said that she is happy with who she is and how she looks. It made me scratch my head, because at 245 pounds I am still 76 pounds away from my goal. How could she be happy at the weight that I am at? It's simple. She loves who she is and how she looks, she's comfortable in her own skin. It makes me wonder, when I will fill that void in myself and be comfortable in my skin?

I hunger for the day when I look like all the other women at the gym. When I am not one of the heaviest women in the room. Now, I know that they are all at the gym for the same reason, they are working on their fitness for heath and looks. When I look at some of these girls and women I think to myself "God, I would be happy with the body, why can't I look like that?" But, I am not realizing is that they are there to work on the same things that I am working on. When I see these thin girls walk into the locker room, I think to myself "If only I could be like that, someday it will happen for me."

I guess what it boils down to is, are we ever really satisfied? Sure we could eat a steak, have sex, lose weight, but in the end aren't those short term solutions? The next day, you are at the same position you were the day before hungry, horny, and back on the treadmill.

Why can't I be happy with what I have everyday? Why am I always wanting more? Why I am always hungry? When will the hunger go away?

Today I needed to discuss my weigh in and the excitement behind it. I was worried about my weigh in this week because Friday night I treated my self to Chinese food for dinner before my workout. Now the food that I ate was:

• Crab legs (without butter) - 5 legs
• Onion and Pepper Shrimp ( Fried Shrimp, Probably in oil) - 20
• Mushrooms in brown sauce - 1 cup
• Vegetables (in Chicken and Broccoli sauce) - 1 cup
• Steamed Shrimp (and 2 tbsp cocktail sauce) - 10
  
• Crab Ragoon (Size of quarter) - 1 (ONE OF MY FAVORITES)
  
• General Tso Chicken - 2 Bites
  
• Honey Chicken - 2 Bites
  
• Coconut Shrimp (Shrimp in Coconut Sauce) - 6 pieces
• Pineapple - 1/2 cup
• Melon - 1 slice

I had 8 points left for the day, 35 weekly points, and 7 AP points. I did have 50 points, but I still worried. It seemed like a lot of food. I ate three plates of food, which felt like I was eating too much. I felt guilty for sampling the high sugar items, the General Tso and Honey Chicken. I figured the high salt content of the Chinese food would do me in. I had two days of water drinking, exercise and eating OP to lead me to a weight loss.

So this morning, I was expecting to see a low loss. If I did lose, I would be surprised. I was shocked when I got on the scale. It read 245. I lost 1.6 pounds this week. My total weight loss so far has been 125 pounds. What an amazing feat! I have lost 33 percent of my body weight. My BMI went from 56.3 to 37.2, a change of 19.1 points. I have gone from a size 28 paints to a size 20 (sometimes an 18). And best of all, I feel great about myself.

Alright, there are a few things I am still unhappy about, but those will change after time.

• I hate my stomach, it is still pouchy and done lapped. (It done lapped over my jeans) I am hoping that once I lose the weight in other areas my body will try to lose this weight.
• I hate my thighs. Don't get me wrong I love the muscle development that is in them, and can't wait until they are toned. My problem is, that I am losing weight a little too fast, and now there are deposits in them that are squishy. I don't mean to be to graphic, but it's like the fat is breaking down from a solid mass into chunks. The skin is soft and just odd to look at.
• My arms are still flabby. Yes, I have lost weight in my arms, two inches to be exact. But I hate when I wave my hand, I get that second wave, the aftershock. I know that only weight training and working out is going to resolve that. It's still embarrassing though to go to the gym in a sleeveless shirt. I feel like everyone is watching me and judging me.
  
• I am losing a great deal of weight in my face. This is causing lines to appear where there were none before. I feel because my face was fatter, the fat pulled out the wrinkles, weird I know. Now looking into the mirror I look much older than my 28 years. I have read on message boards that this does happen to people. I will need to see what I can do to change this.
  

All in all, I really shouldn't complain about where I am in my weight loss journey. I could be where I was 20 months ago, 370 pounds and unhappy. Now, I have a reason to be proud of myself and I have something to work towards. For the past few years I have questioned my life, and where I was going. I didn't feel as though I had a purpose or anything to work towards. For the first time in a long time, I have given myself a reason to be excited about something in my life. I wouldn't change where I am at for anything in the world. I know that I need this weight loss journey to teach me a lesson. Anything worth having is worth working for. And I sure have worked hard for this!