I have had yet another realization about my obsessions with weight and skin. No, this is not going to be another blog where I discuss how much I think that my skin (the extra stuff) is gross. This is actually a somewhat healthy, oh look there’s that light bulb above her head, kind of blog.
That being said - I KNOW that there are many things that cause weight to fluctuate; up and down. I have fluke weights now and then and I realize that’s what they are. This has happened with both “gains” and “losses.” I also KNOW that lasting loss takes time. And that the closer you are to a healthy weight, the harder it is to lose it. I could go on and on about the things that I already know (but that people point out anyway - sometimes even mentioning them doesn’t stop people from telling me what I already know), but I have more important things to write about.
I find it somewhat funny that I’m so concerned with numbers. I am not such a fan of numbers. Numbers generally mean math. Math reminds me of school and the horror that came with math class. The “I’m stupids,” the tears, the mean things I said to my parents when they tried to help. I didn’t like it. AT ALL. I may even go as far as to say that I HATED it. Part of that was because it wasn’t easy for me. If something couldn’t be done well I tried to avoid it. I didn’t want to put myself in a position of being unable to be one of the best, or in my mind “perfect.” I’ve always had this sense of needing to be perfect… Which has resulted in past self-esteem, self-image, and weight issues. Funny…Everywhere else in my life I worked my tail off to try to be perfect and yet when it came to weight… Epic fail. It’s the one area I allowed myself to be out of control. Well, that and math.
I’m much more of a creative kind of individual and math was lost on me. Now, giving me something to read, write, or create and I’ll give you a masterpiece. Especially the writing.
It’s quite comical that I find myself so obsessed with numbers these days.
I honestly don’t know that I’m going to be able to lose much more weight. I honestly believe that the skin that’s just hanging around has a lot to do with it.
After doing some research, I’ve learned that in terms of pounds, lots can be removed during surgery. One surgeon posted that on average, in someone with a significant weight loss, he removes about 20 pounds of skin.
About 20 pounds is my final goal weight.
It’s possible that the reason I’m having such a hard time losing this last 20 pounds is because of the skin. I mean think about it… The skin can’t just go away. It spent years being filled out with fat. It’s not just going to jump off my body and say “I never want to see you again.” No. It’s just going to hang there. And I do mean hang. I’m not bold enough to post pictures of the damage under the clothing but, take my word for it, it just hangs out. Not pretty. Not important, though, either.
If I lose 20 more pounds, and then have my skin removed… I’ll be smaller than I’d like to be. Heck, if I have more than 20 pounds of skin, I could be under where I want to be.
I have no way of knowing how many pounds of skin (that I don’t need) are on my body. I think that a surgeon could give me an estimate based on my appearance and his or her experience, but I won’t know for sure until the day it’s gone.
So, my reasons for wanting my skin gone are not only because it’s ugly. It droops and it’s got funky lines running through it. I’ve known that the skin obviously contributes to my weight, and that it’s possible that I could be lighter than I weigh without it. I knew that it could be a decent amount of poundage.
Despite knowing all of that I didn’t allow that idea to really connect with my obsession with my weight. I think I knew on some level but it didn’t really fully sink in until today.
My hope is that knowing this will help me to not be so obsessed with losing weight. I’m healthy. THAT is where my priority should be. I eat healthy, with a treat now and then, and I exercise. I’ve given myself a longer life. I breathe easier. I’m not stressing out my knees with extra weight. My health IS my priority and I’ve done well. I’ve accomplished a lot; something I never knew I had the strength to do. Despite my annoyances and obsessions, my mental health has improved as well as my physical health. I know that in some blogs it may not sound like it, and some days I don’t feel it, but I really do love myself. SO. MUCH. I especially love this body… It can run, bike, swim, jump, hike, etc… One of these days I may even attempt a cartwheel or handstand or something. :)
As far as my appearance… When I move the skin the right way, I have some pretty nice muscle definition. If I move the right way, you can see my sternum under my chest. My spine sticks out. If I do a side bend, my ribs show. Honestly? Without the skin, I’m probably “thin” enough.
I think it’s time to accept that the scale isn’t going to move like it once did. NO matter how hard I fight and how much I push myself, it just cannot move as fast as I’d like it to. If skin has as much to do with my weight as I believe, there’s nothing I can do. I need to be okay with that.
I’ve realized that for a while but because I can’t know “FOR SURE” how much weight is skin, I still focus on loss and work for it. And that’s okay. It’s the pressure I put on myself and what I let it do to me when it’s just not happening how I’d like it to that’s the problem.
ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.
The scale doesn’t own me. I own it. I need to break my strong attachment to it. It’s seriously become an addiction. Just like my fascination with my skin. These things are unhealthy because of the extent of my obsession.
I’m healthy, happy, and have a lot of things going for me. Why be obsessed with something so small? It’s silly.
It’s funny how feeling tired or emotional can change your (well, my) mood so much. A few days ago I wanted to cry as I blogged. Today? I’m happy. I’m feeling strong. I’m ready to accept the me that I’ve become and try to learn that it’s okay to not know exactly how much of my weight is skin. In the end it doesn’t really matter. It doesn’t make me who I am…. But I’m still “overweight” by BMI standards. I really want a healthy BMI. My skin may not allow me to do that. What can I Do? Accept it. That’s about it. Until one day I decide to get surgery. At this point, I’m sure I will.
I’m young. And honestly, aside from wanting a healthy BMI, I want to show off what I’ve done. Yup, I want my body to brag. I want to wear a bikini and look good. It’s kinda hard to tuck my skin into a little bit of fabric, like I do my jeans. I’d also really like to not have skin fly all over when I run. That’s annoying. I want to be a certain size…Because I JUST DO. Not because anyone else is telling me I have to be or I am not good enough if I’m not (not even me). It’s just something I want.
I’m in a good place right now. I’m going to TRY like heck to accept my current weight and not push myself so hard. Even if, at this moment, I just thought “but another 2 pounds would be good”.” That would put me in the next set of 10s, where I have so desperately wanted to be for the last few months. This is what I’ve been pushing so hard to achieve. That extra stress just isn’t healthy.
Most importantly… The parts of me that truly matter have only gotten better. Those are the parts that you can’t see when you look at me, but that some of you see in the things that I do. Kindness, compassion, empathy, love, being healthy…. Those are the things that matter most.