the bust stops here

I've outgrown all my clothes, even my 9 months pregnant clothes. I weigh more than I weighed the day I gave birth to my 2nd child. I can't blame that on pregnancy. I can't blame the fact that my 2X stretchy shirts are stretched to their limit on the dryer. What I do know is this: my friends and family love me right now at my heaviest. I have proven to my inner fifteen year old that I am loved for who I am on the inside. So. Now it's about me. I feel heavy and sore. My feet hurt. My breasts are huge and not in a sexy way. My whole body is lumbering and hard to drag around with me. I can't wear my wedding ring anymore. I have become what I feared becoming. And the main problem isn't that I'm not lovable because I'm fat; that's simply not true. The main problem is that I can no longer do what I want to do. I actually fall into the category where I can't take for granted that the roller coaster bar will fit over me. I get out of breath walking up the stairs because I'm carrying an extra 90 pounds -- maybe 100.

So... I am stopping eating the things that I know hurt my body as of right now: sugar, dairy and wheat. I already know that when I eat these things, I have allergic and/or intolerant reactions. Dairy gives me cramps and brown spots on my skin. Wheat gives me flaky scalp and then I can't breath well if I have it often. Also, my face and hands swell up. And as for sugar, I don't care about any of the above when I'm eating it -- and who knows why. Crap. I knew all this and then started eating these things anyway, slowly and over time, because I did not want to be deprived. Now I'm deprived of a well functioning body. And probably a long life.

Welcome to my addictive brain. Let's see what happens when I stop feeding the addiction.

So far today, no sugar, no dairy, no wheat.