Posted in Ramblings, recovery


Heeeeey guys. How’s it going? Everyone survive Halloween? Anyone still in a candy coma? Well, lucky you then. I’ve decided I really like fun size Butterfingers. Not full size, only fun size. You get a full bite of chocolate every time.

Anyways, not the purpose of this post… Although, matbe it is. I’ve noticed that I’ve been dragging my feet on posting this week. My therapist even made a comment a few weeks ago about my latest post (which at the time was about pretzel/nutella mental breakdown) not sounding like me. I got a little defensive because I feel like I only ever write like me. But upon further self reflection, he’s totally right. Ugh. I hate when that happens. I also know it’s because as much as I aim to be 100% open and honest on this blog, I’m still human. I still feel like a failure and go through times of not wanting anyone to know how I’m falling under water. (And by water, I mean candy wrappers. In a not funny way.)

I’ve been struggling, y’all. I’ve been binging and I’ve been hiding food. I’ve been starving myself and I’ve been trying (unsuccessfully) to purge it later. My negative self-talk is at an all-time high and I am avoiding the mirror. Surprisingly, the only thing I haven’t slipped back into doing is obsessively weighing myself. Probably because I’m just too terrified to see. But today I’m at the doctor for a regular check up and started crying as I stepped on the scale. I’ve gained 70 pounds in a year. That’s right, seventy.

You say, “But, Tabitha. You’ve had a really hard year! Give yourself some grace!” That’s right, I have had an extremely hard year. A LOT of my years have been really hard years, actually. So, what then? When do I stop and say, “Listen, most of my 31 years have been pretty damn hard. So, I don’t really allow myself that grace.” It’s different, you guys. I know it’s hard for you to understand because you (I would hope) haven’t been 400 pounds once upon a time like I have. I didn’t gradually gain that weight. It came in like Miley riding naked on a wrecking ball when I turned 17 and it took a gastric bypass at 29 to get it to go away. And here I am again, 20 pounds away from 300 and it scares the hell out of me. I gained 70 pounds this year. How much can I gain by this time next year if I don’t snap out of it? This isn’t an extra 20 pounds, my friends. This is an extra person worth of pounds and the mental anguish that comes with it isn’t an easy battle to fight.

I remember when I told people I was going to have the surgery. I actually had a number of people make the comment about possibly gaining it all back. I would get offended and be like, “Do I look like an idiot? Why would I ever do that?” ….well, because the surgery isn’t a quick fix. It isn’t easy and it doesn’t fix the mental battle and the eating disorder. So here I am. I’m flawed and human. In my eyes, I’ve failed and I want to hide that part of me away. But I can’t anymore. It almost seems to do more damage to hide from my audience of like two people who read this.

How can you help? I get asked that a lot by people who love me. Honestly? I wish I knew. I wish I knew what to say this time. Do I tell you to support me by having healthy food out when I come visit? No. 1.) I don’t want that crap. And 2.) It’s not anything I want you to worry about. So, I have zero idea for once. Maybe you have an idea?

This post is annoyingly depressing I feel like. GAH, do you ever get sick of your own voice? I do. I just hear my voice and I’m like, GIRL SHUT UUUUUUPPPP. But that’s that negative self talk I’m telling you about.

I’m going to end this post because I’m sounding more crazy by the minute. SORRY! I’ll try to be funnier next time. Maybe a post about how it took me 2 hours to put together a tiny matchbox garage that my kid got for his bday this past weekend? Maybe you’d like to hear the string of cuss words I used? No? That doesn’t sound like a good time to you? GREAT.



P.S. if you’re new here, it’s what I do. I don’t try to pretend to be anything I’m not. So a lot of times you get a post like this. But with it, I’m hoping that you find comfort in the idea that you aren’t alone.

P.S.S. I’ve been in this waiting room for 45 miiiiiinutes. Gaaaaahhhhh

3 thoughts on “Seventy.

  1. Thank you for being real. Thank you for sharing. I want to tell you that you have not failed. Every day that you try to be better is a success. Not a failure. When you know what is you need, I am here. If you want someone to text you at 7am everyday and yell at you to exercise I will do that! If you want to use MyFitness Pal and cheer each other on, I’ll do that. Whatever I can do (from halfway across the country) I will! xoxo

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I love you and I’m always here for you. I went to my surgeon on Friday and I’ve gained 15 lbs in the past year. I know it isn’t 70 but it was still embarrassing and I felt and still do feel like I’ve failed. He said “it looks like you are in a good place with your new love so what’s up?” And I wanted to blame everyone else except myself. “Oh I can’t exercise like everyone else because of my foot” which is BS because there are a million things I could do while I’m sitting. “Oh Ally eats all the time” ok, and? I stopped at the store yesterday and bought a pumpkin supreme pie for “Ally” … Yeah right. Dr. just gave me a talking to on Friday and it’s like I can’t help myself. Food makes me feel better! So I’m here for you. Maybe we can ass kick together like old times! Core four minus 2 lol anyway I love you and miss you and I’m here for whatever you need, even if it’s someone to tell that you are eating cookies or candy or whatever. 💋 ❤ 😊

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s