Thursday, February 2, 2017
Living Large For All My Ninety(something)Pounds
I think I'm the only woman (besides Karen Carpenter) who likes to weigh herself fully clothed with heavy Danskos shoes on and a roll of quarters in each pocket. I've never been over weight except my freshman year in college when I lived off barley, hops and rye.
Although when I was pregnant with Zach, gained seventy pounds. I loved every minute and every Little Debbie Swiss Roll of it!
"I am the walrus... coo coo ca choo."
I remember making my sister hold the front of her dress out when they took this picture of us at my baby shower to minimize my fatness.
I lost all the weight in less than three months. Guess slinging plates for a living is a good weight loss program.
I've always weighed around 110-115 until the financial bottom fell out for us. The stress, along with working weeks at a time without a day off, melted even more off me. I'd say at my worst was around eighty five pounds, just told people I weighed ninety.
After working at the airport for a year or two, made my way back up to pretty near triple digits. Let's put it this way, I didn't have to buy my work clothes in the kid's department anymore.
When we finally moved to join Tim in Orlando I was doing great and tipping the scales at three solid digits.
Then I found out my transfer hadn't gone through with the airport and was once again unemployed.
It devastated me.
It was hard enough for me to pick myself up and go on when I was in my late forties but did it. Now I was almost fifty seven and closer to a nursing home than I'd ever been before.
But here's the thing...
It took me a hot minute (more like a month) and tons of encouragement, even tough love but somehow I made it again.
Sometimes you just have to keep trying until you get it right.
I've had so much help getting to this point in my life that I dare life to try me again. I moved away from everything I knew and a lot of people I loved, and certainly wasn't going to fail again. Come hell or high water.
So what I'm not big balling at the airport gig anymore? Lucky for me my husband is doing fantastic and moving up quickly in his new job. It was tight for us at first after being out of work for a month and having to spend my savings when thought I would be back to work within a couple of days.
Yes I turned myself into a victim...but felt like one. Depression swallowed me whole, and shrunk me mentally, emotionally and physically.
I was quickly back down to not even ninety pounds. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep... but won the Oscar for "Best Continuous Cryer. "
Now that I've been at my new job for a couple of months, know I made the right choice.
The thing I feel worst about is my own family (including my older brother and sister) have had to put up with my crazy self and luckily not felt compelled to have me commited.
Yes life can be (and is) tough.
Wear a helmet.
Unless you're living under a highway bridge with all your worldly possesions in an abandoned shopping cart and sleeping on cardboard; living in Aleppo or some other distraught place on this planet and only counting on the humanity of others to save you...you'll be okay if you keep on keeping on.
...but when you realize you will be okay, think about the ones who may not be.
Think about people who don't have an advantage, or someone to help them advance.
My life is finally, after a decade of debacle getting better.
I can't imagine how hopeless all the other millions and millions feel.
I'm living in Florida now, the Sunshine State. Love the sun and the warm temps. I've been blessed more than I deserve.
I want everyone to feel the sun.
Til next time...The luckiest gal on this planet.