I hate pictures with a passion. I just hate what they do to me emotionally. I took a picture a few months into this try at weight loss and haven’t really taken any others since. This weekend my dad got a new camera and was shooting pics of my husband and myself while kayaking. Have you ever thought that you were doing really well, looking decent? And then you see a picture. Boy it can change everything. See, I have this issue – I don’t feel like a person who weighs this much. But, seeing that picture this weekend, I am a person who weighs this much. I’ve been avoiding the kayak for three years. I just knew I wouldn’t fit in it, or since I am so big I would tip over fall out, whatever the fear was I let it take over. This weekend I just bit the bullet and tried it out. Getting in it was a pain, and the initial lowering into the water was scary. Scary enough that I thought about quitting. As I was sitting in the kayak laughing, but freaked out I just said – what are you so afraid of? Falling in the water? Geez, that would be terrible. You’ve never been wet before. Really – that is the worst thing that would have happened. So I let go and just figured it out. I had the best time. I could just kick myself for not trying it sooner. Everyone was really surprised by how far I was able to go (myself included). I had fun. It’s a great workout too. Not really aerobic, but great for the arms, back, and core. Anyway…my husband and I rode around the lake for about a ½ hour and all the while my dad was snapping pictures. We went in to look at them and I couldn’t believe what (who) I saw. Who is that fat girl sitting in the kayak. Oh, that’s me. I really don’t feel like that girl. The roll around my stomach is so freaking huge – I get the whole spare tire reference. I think my tire is for a big rig. The chin – or should I say chins – oh my. Now, I should mention that once you get into this kayak everything kind of gets pushed up – I have a lot to push up. I was disappointed that I still looked so heavy. I know I am heavy. Obviously the scale does not lie, or the size of my clothing. I just didn’t think I looked that big. I guess it’s extra incentive to get back to my exercise routine. Another 40 pounds (almost) and next time it will be a little better.
I have a weird relationship with him. He’s from the South and sometimes the views men have of women here are a little different that views I grew up with on the West Coast. My dad and I have butted heads since I was a little girl. I can remember going days without talking to him when I was four or five. I don’t think that’s normal to be that mad. Anyway – we had a conversation about my weight, which is always fun. Somehow this man thinks he understands what it is to be where I am, because he has a weight problem (he has to lose 20 pounds). I don’t have a weight problem. I have several issues that have caused a morbid obesity problem. I told him that a friend of mine had a gastric bypass. He asked why I haven’t done that yet. I told him that I’d thought about it a million times, but that I just didn’t think it was the solution for me. I told him that I needed to figure out what it was that was causing me to do this to myself. We talked for about an hour and it just went nowhere. It’s frustrating that he isn’t sympathetic. He thinks he’s being that, but it comes off as being a jerk. I’m not writing all of this to bash my dad – I’m just trying to deal with all of the feelings that come up when I talk to him about weight. After that conversation, I went up to bed and started to cry. My husband had no idea what happened. I think everything just caught up with me. I was fine a few minutes later – I think I may have needed a release after the conversation.