New Year....Old Addiction.

So it appears as though I have been absent for quite some time. Not true. Simply, avoiding, is a much better reason.  With all the chaos of Christmas nearly a month behind me, and the serenity of a fresh new year under way, I had planned to start January with a bang. As I'm sure that everyone was. I had planned out my resolution, with methodical attention to detail. Again, as I believe a lot of people do. What was that resolution you ask...probably the same as a trillion other people on the planet. "This year, I'm going to finally lose the weight". As I was flooded over the holidays of images of all the people who "finally did it", I began the new year with optimism and excitement.  Well, it's now nearing the end of January, and my lovely "addiction of choice" has once again reared it's ugly head.  
Screw you food.
Now I understand that people have real addictions in this world. Crack, speed, meth, coke, booze...blah blah blah. The list goes on. However, are any of these people sitting on the couch at night, battling with their inner demons when a commercial  for crack comes on? Are they forced to sit there, mind racing, body craving, stomach growling while they watch someone "shoot up" during advertising for heroin? Ummm, NO. Am I forced to watch burger after burger....dessert after dessert splashed across my screen while I try not to eat the arm of my couch? Sure am.
Again...screw you food.
Now, food of course is a necessary part of life.  However, I must admit to using it to fill every single hole in my life. Happiness...let's eat! Sadness...might as well eat. Emptiness...fill it up and eat! Eat. Eat. Eat. It has truly taken over a place in my life where I may have chosen to drink.  Obviously a better choice in the long run, but still none the less damaging.  I have tried every single possible thing that you can imagine, and failed at every last one of them.  As the years have ticked by and I continue the same battle, I have begun to ask myself in recent years, "What's going on?" This is surely much bigger than what I put in my mouth.  It must be deeply rooted in the why I do. Well that just opens a whole can of worms now doesn't it! 
I have begun to ask myself the why. The answer has not come quickly by any means, but I do think that in very small ways it has started to make it's way to the surface. Once again, it leads to the core of me.  The basis of happiness.  The sanctuary of knowing who I am.  
Then I started thinking.  When was the last time that I can recall being truly happy with my body.  The irony of that, is that it was when I was pregnant with my son.  I packed on a hefty 85lbs from when I met my husband.  85lbs is no small feat.  I had to work really hard to gain that. I had decided early in my pregnancy that I was going to eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted and however much I wanted.  I succeeded. I had already rationalized that no matter what happened, I was bound to lose weight during delivery. I assumed that my son would be the size of a 1st grader.  I was wrong. During the last few weeks of pregnancy, right up until about 2 weeks after I had him, I felt awesome. I mean, really awesome. Supermodel awesome.  Especially since after I delivered him, I could actually touch and see my feet, which in my mind I assumed I had a flat stomach. I was horribly incorrect. I remember the moment that all my self esteem deflated and I had to face the music. He was 2 weeks old.  I happily stepped on the scale with the expectation of a huge loss.  Proud of myself for enjoying pregnancy to it's fullest, and proud that I knew I looked so great after childbirth. There it was in front of me. 14lbs gone...leaving me stranded somewhere in the 200lb's for me to own. That one split second totally robbed me of all my self esteem.  How can a stupid number do that? It is after all, not what defines us as women, mothers, sisters, friends or wives. Yet it determines how you will feel about yourself today. 
Everything tells us how we should look, act, feel....be. As a mother of a young daughter, and a step mother to a teenage one, I am concerned how they feel about themselves. I want my daughter to be strong, independent, smart, funny, kind, honest, and real.  I don't care what she weighs....but she will.  That makes my journey so much more important at this time.  I have come to realize that the weight I carry doesn't change who I am, or if I am loved. It will change how I am loved, if I can't love myself.  Of all the lessons I hope to pass down to my daughter, it is that she is more important than the clothes she wears, the shoes on her feet and the size of her jeans.  What she will offer the world doesn't fit in a dress size. As a mother, teaching lessons, what will I teach myself today? 
Will I believe my husband today when he tells me I'm beautiful? Or will I believe myself when I say I'm fat? Will I take the compliment from a friend when they say I look good? Or will I listen to myself when I say I'm ugly?  This is a new chapter for me.  I have spent many years bashing myself from the inside out, as I think we all do in one way or another. So this New Year I have decided to dig deeper than "I'm going to lose weight".  Perhaps this year it's time to lose the weight of a different kind.  The weight that I have carried in shame, the weight of disgust, the weight of self hatred, the weight of disappointment, the weight of despair.  This is the "weight" that determines who I am and what I will offer the world.  Not the size of my ass....although I will admit that by shedding the shame, I hope that I shall too shed thy ass.  Perhaps, within reason, they are connected.  I hope....
This year I will work hard at Loving me. Choosing me.  Trusting in me.  Because at the end of this life, I hope that my legacy will be that I was a good friend, mother, wife.  I hope that I was honest, funny, genuine, and kind. But more that anything I hope that I will be remembered as happy.....and hopefully skinny.  But mostly happy;)