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I hit the 260 marker on the scale a couple of weeks ago. I sort of shrugged and thought “dammit to hell” and then continued on as usual. We just moved and I’ve had other more pressing concerns than my looming weight. But, as the shine of the move dulls, it’s all to apparent that my weight is out of control and it has been for years.

Moving has its benefits. No one knows me in my big city town and my friends aren’t distracting me with dinner invites and coffee excursions. When your social life tends to center on eating out it’s very hard to shed those pounds. It’s also very easy to become lulled by the comfortable and predictable rhythm of your everyday life. Moving throws all of these factors extremely out of whack, making this the perfect time to reinvent myself.

My skinny, perfect-metabolism, husband loves me a great deal and despite the fact that I’ve gained a 100 pounds since we met a decade ago, he doesn’t typically comment on my weight. But, with the move comes a shift in our lives as well… We will both be turning the 30 this year and we would like to start a family soon. Now, my loving and supportive husband has started to acknowledge that I’m not in good health and he seems worried about me.

I’m worried about me. I don’t appear as though I weigh 260 pounds. I’m not sure why that is. Women put on weight so differently. I’ve had two friends scoff when I tell them what I weigh as though they can’t believe it. I can’t really believe it either. How did it get this bad?

I have to admit, I’ve never felt fat. I’m not one of those people who constantly thinks about and stresses over their weight and my eating habits are not that unhealthy (although I certainly have my lapses like most people). I was a big child growing up but I wasΒ rather trim in high school. Sadly this was partially due to a slight eating disorder that started when I got my first boyfriend (a senior three grades above me) who I felt I needed to impress. I suppose in this delicate time of self awareness I developed a healthy self image (to an extent – eating issues aside) because I think that over the last decade I’ve always seen myself as that beautiful, healthy, active, and happy person. So, frankly, the idea that the woman in the mirror is in any way “me” seems sometimes to illogical to acknowledge.

WebMD and other online health sources all pretty much agree that you have to be emotionally ready to loose weight, that – like with AA participants – you have to admit that you have a problem and accept the fact that you can only take it one day at a time. So, that’s what I’m doing.

I’m morbidly obese.

There is another person trapped inside of this body I’m wearing. I love that person but I do not love her disguise. In order to free that person I must literally split in two, almost halving my current weight.

I have no real idea how I’m going to accomplish this, but I have some ideas. I’m a very strong-minded individual. I don’t like being pushed unless I’m the one doing the pushing. I don’t like following stressful diet plans to the letter. I’m not much for exercise or medicine either. Right now I’m researching the health aspect of losing weight when obese in an effort to try to pin down where I’m at physically and where I need to go so that I can devise a plan to get there.

I intend to post daily (or at least every other day) about my journey: what I’m learning, what I’m eating, and what my body and mind are going through in the process.

Join me if you’d like – subscribe, keep me motivated, hold me accountabled. I’d like to have feedback, suggestions, and maybe (hopefully) support. It’s not going to be easy after all and it’s always harder to go it alone.