Happy news and then it all goes downhill from there.

So as of last night, I am officially 30 pounds down from where I started at (313 pounds)! My BMI is down 4.4 points from 50.5 to 46.1! After my weight watchers meeting last night, I went to the gym. I was on the treadmill, and decided that I’d push myself to do 20 minutes, because I was kind of bored. Then Biggest Loser came on, and I was less bored, and pushed myself to do 5 more minutes. Then 5 more minutes. Until I got to 45 minutes! Then I went to the weight machines and did some arm exercises, just to even things out. And one thing I’m most excited about; Every so often, I put on a pedometer, just for fun to see how many steps I take. Because my job is very sedentary, I often only get about 4,000 in the entire day! But yesterday, I got over 10,000 steps! I am so proud of that!

Because of my success so far, I decided it’s time to make a new goal, so I made a large goal, and a bunch of new small ones. The large goal is to lose 100 pounds in 1 year. However, I split it up so that the small goals are easy to attain. In order to reach my goal, I have to lose a little less than 2.1 pounds per week, which is a healthy rate. By this time a year from now, I hope to weigh 176.5 pounds, and have a BMI of 28.5. That is less than I weighed in high school, which is crazy. That is the only time I remember actually having a real weight, because it’s on my drivers license.

I was actually a skinny kid. I rode my bike all the time, and climbed trees constantly. I was a tomboy and spent a lot of time outdoors. I didn’t start to gain weight until around 5th or 6th grade when my parents were starting to have problems, but I still didn’t weigh that much. I was just a little pudgy. Then when my Dad left us in 9th grade, I really ballooned up, and that seems to be the time where I gained most of my weight. I am an emotional eater, and while we did always have pretty healthy foods at home growing up, I ate way too much of them. I remember coming home from school and foraging in the cabinets for something to eat. I know I hid wrappers around, and thinking back, I am so embarrassed for my behavior. I constantly hid my eating. If I went to the store, I’d buy something from the deli, or donuts, etc., and take them home and hide them while I ate them.

My Mom would sometimes get on my case about it (my weight I guess), but it never really felt like it was loving, the way she always said it. “You shouldn’t have more of that”, or “that’s enough for you” (then another sibling would get to have more), or lecturing me at the dinner table with the whole family in attendance, about what foods I could have more of, etc. I wish she’d been more proactive about it; instead of saying those things in front of the entire family, it would have been great if she’d had a private talk with me about it. And maybe gone on walks or bike rides with me. Maybe if that had happened, and I had felt like I got some attention from her, our relationship now wouldn’t be so rough.

Now, I live literally across a field from her. It takes about 3 minutes to walk through the field, or 7 minutes to take the road. Yet, she complains that I never come over, or never talk with her. I try to talk to her, but there doesn’t seem to be much to talk about. I have tried, but our conversation is like a limp noodle. She is inattentive, looking at other things, paying attention to other people’s conversations, as if what I have to say is unimportant to her. When I try to talk about how I feel about something, it’s like she steam rolls over it, and makes me feel like an idiot for making a big deal out of it. However, when my sisters talk to her about their kids, she’s very interactive in the conversations. It often makes me feel that I (and Jeff) are not as important as the others because we don’t have kids.

I feel like crying, simply because of the relationship we could/should have had, and don’t. As ridiculous as it is, I’m still trying to seek her approval, though I don’t think I’ll ever get it. I used to think that if I had kids before my siblings, she’d approve of me. When I make a cake for a birthday party, or baby shower, my first thought is that I want to impress her. When I knitted that blanket for my sisters baby, my thoughts were that maybe Mom would be proud, since she had tried to teach me to knit years ago. But she said nothing. All I need her to say is “what a beautiful job you’ve done” or “you’re so talented” or maybe “I’m so proud of you”. But she won’t, and probably never will. How do you stop seeking the approval of a parent that’s not willing to give it? It would sure be less stress on my heart, but while I can identify that it’s a problem, I can’t seem to stop these thoughts of wanting her to pay attention to me.

And that’s enough of the examining feelings. This is making me far too emotional.