My endocrine system is messed up. It's been messed up for most of my life. Who knew when I was a teen with occasional irregular cycles I was a ticking time bomb, set to explode in my early 20s when I developed PCOS in earnest? Ever since the first nuclear explosion (gaining @80 pounds in six months), I've been big. I had chubby tendencies before, but nothing like now.
I've mentioned before as an adult I've followed a distressing pattern: healthy eat (avoiding carbs) down to a point, let's call it X, then it flatlines, then it comes back, each time bringing more with it. This has happened at least three times since Anna was born. As of today, X is about 35 pounds below where I am now.
I've set X as my first goal. After X is achieved, I go from there. I've not been able to get below X since...1993. Sadly, X is big. But, not nearly so. I'm still unhappy that I was/am 10 pounds heavier than I thought. That makes it less likely I'll reach X before this cycle of hellish torture--I mean--HCG is over (I go on stabilization around May 1). I mean, it's possible, and that would be beyond awesome, but I'll just have to see. I really do hope and pray for that. At X I almost recognize my face again.
OK, anyway, why I do this. I've planned on talking about this for awhile, but it's difficult. The biggest reason: my mother. She died because she could not give up smoking--would not give up smoking. Oh, but she loved her cigarettes. And in the harsh glare of reality, she loved them more than us, and she died, long before she should have.
She just couldn't face giving up her comfort--even though the smoking caused her unspeakable suffering. I won't do that. Yes, it does feel very unfair to me that my body doesn't work like I want it to. No, I do not eat enough to sustain my body weight--it just doesn't work properly. While a "normal" person can eat sugar sometimes, I really can't. I love sugar. It's so yummy. And for my body sugar includes bread, potatoes, pasta, rice...all tasty things.
But if what it comes down to at the end of the day, if I can't eat them and be a more normal healthy weight, I can't eat them. I can't conscience doing to Anna and Mark what my mom did to us--choosing her addiction over her family. I miss her every day. I still need my mom, and Anna still needs her Grammy. And she's gone. I know in her heart she'd not believe this, but where the rubber meets the road, she loved cigarettes more than everything else in her life.
I won't do that to them. Whatever it takes.
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