Down to 158 lbs.

158 lbs. now. Wow. Getting closer to having lost 100 lbs. since this time last year.


I am still working on finding my place in this world...but I'm settling a little better every day. My family is my son, my brother and sister-in-law, and her family, as well as the wonderful network of close friends I have developed over the years. They truly are my family. It seems that many of them have stepped up to fill greater roles in my (and my son's) life after the death of my mom. Dad passed away 21 years ago. Mom just 1.5 years ago. Family has been redefined over the years and, in particular, this past 1.5 years. I'm happy with my family. The biological members don’t really know as much about the ins and outs of my weight loss journey, but my friends (in particular through support group and OH) know all the inner workings of my food addiction “recovery.”

I do believe in spirit and souls and that we are all connected. I just have issues with something called God. I lost my dad when I was 16...and then he died when I was 20. I had limited contact with him from the time I was 13 until 16, and I can definitely empathize with the hole it leaves. I spent years watching him wither away from multiple sclerosis (he was diagnosed when I was 4). I watched him go from an intelligent and soft-spoken man to a man who could not speak, walk, feed himself or attend to any other needs himself at all. I watched both of my parents battle chronic illnesses while I grew up...and I endured a lot of questions from my peers as an elementary-aged child about why my dad always did the "hula" when he stood (his balance was greatly impacted in the very beginning of his disease when he could still stand). His death when I was 20 really brought me to my knees. I hadn't seen him or talked to him in 4 years and I was consumed with guilt. I just couldn't even function. And that used to give me such anxiety about how I would cope when my mom passed as she and I were so much closer. I'm thankful for the years I had with her. I wish things had ended on a more positive note (we weren't in a good place with each other at the time of her death). I think it will always hurt.

This year is the second Christmas without my mom. She died very unexpectedly at age 64 of a massive pulmonary embolism. It took us all completely by surprise. She loved Christmas...she WAS Christmas for our family. Last year was hard. This year feels better, even though sad. I do know that she would be happy to have us enjoy the holiday and not be filled with sorrow. And I try to remind myself of that on the more down days. It is also a very good time to reflect on the sweet along with the bitter. I will be eternally grateful for this gift that is my son...he turned my life into something wonderful. Thank goodness for sweet little boys who have infectious enthusiasm for getting Christmas trees up and decorated. If not for Zachary, I probably wouldn't have gotten this done at all. But it's up, and he did a beautiful job decorating. The cats are poised to get the ornaments down.