Pound Stories

That's a picture when I was around 21 years old. By that time I had spent 16 years attempting many diets. There was the all water diet where all I had to eat and drink was water. Those huge Crystal Geyser bottles that they carry at Costco. My dad wondered why we were going through them more when I was a junior in high school. It was me. There was the vegetarian diet. Where I thought if all I had to eat was one lettuce leaf, french fries, and lots of bread I would lose weight. Forget the fact that chicken does count as meat, and you need to exercise along with the cutting of foods to lose weight. But I did try that too. Lost three pounds when I stopped eating breakfast and lunch and started walking to Lake Chabot with my German Shephard, Maxine. Gained it all back when I just realized I love food. I also tried bulemia and found the lovely knowledge that I have no gag reflex. So all the food that I had purged on was staying in that stomach.

So through all that ups and downs of food anxiety/hating/loving, my body went through a good amount of pressure to try to at least survive. It's no wonder that at 177 pounds, my body finally said, "F you" and revolted. When that picture was taken I was in absolute pain from a cyst growing on my ovaries. See, when I was 18 my ob/gyn had put me on birth control pills for a sporadic period. But they didn't go through the diagnosis process and didn't explain to me that I had Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome. They just put me on the pills, told me to take them if I wanted to get a normal period, and went on my merry way. Since it was Kaiser, they also put me on a generic brand to save costs. Lucky me. When I started feeling ill and weird after three years taking them, I decided to stop taking them. They didn't tell me that I needed, so I stopped taking them. I got a normal period for three months, then I stopped getting my period for another three months. At that time I was working at the Women's Resource Center overtime for March and April events, and doing four classes in my degree concentration (that means research papers, reading a book in a week, etc.). I thought it was stress. I figured I would worry about it at the end of the semester.

Wrong. As I said, my body finally said, "ENOUGH!" I ended up at the hospital with major pains. I won't go into how I LOVE Kaiser because of that visit, but I was diagnosed with menstrual cramps. Hah. You forgot that cyst borrowing in my ovaries. But thanks, man. It took four doctor visits and a sonogram to see that what I did have was a cyst (by the sonogram came around, it finally broke and created a flood in the rivers of Jennifer) and that I have PCOS.

Quick explanation before the point: PCOS is an insulin-resistant syndrome (disease, whatever). Either because your pancreas produces too much insulin naturally or trying to overcompensate with slow growth of the body, it then triggers a hormone imbalance (specifically testosterone and progesterone) that then creates a problem in the ovaries. My eggs, naturally, do not fall down to the fallopian tubes. They just stay there every month. So, if three months don't drop down, what do you have? Many little eggs (called mini cysts) that create a big cyst.

So, I had a choice. I could live the same way I was (dieting and purging) or I could change my life radically. When you read studies of how if you don't treat PCOS long term you can develop not only diabetes but heart conditions and cancer...wouldn't you get scared? Well, I did. And that summer I started working out every day. I cut down on what I ate. But I told myself that I wouldn't worry about the food part. I would focus on getting more active.

And it worked.





Nice, huh? That year was the best for me. One, I was finally finishing college. Two, because I was becoming more of who I would become later on. There was still a LOT of work to go through, but at that point I was just worried about getting better.

Then I graduated college, and life happened. That's all I can describe it: life happened. And because I just focused on working out before, I didn't realize it was also a food thing. I still had a horrible relationship with food. It's either I didn't want to eat it (which...was rare, but it did happen), or I wanted to swim in it. The climax was when I was at my last job and all I could to help the pain was eating a bag of Reese's Peanut Butter cups (not the itty bitty pieces either) in order to cope. Sure, I was working out but my body got used to it. I was eating more calories than I could burn. When I finally realized what was going on, I was back at 177 pounds and without hope.

I needed help. A friend of mine and I were talking about the situation, and she said, "Have you ever heard of Overeating?" I just shrugged it off and said, "I don't have an eating disorder. I just love food." But she showed me a website and asked me questions without me looking. I said "yes" to all but one. And she then showed me the explanation to the questions. I didn't cry. But I realized how horrible a relationship I had with food. Not everyone has this relationship with food. I don't blame anyone for how I was brought up; it's just how it became. My mother's culture thinks of food all the time; that's just how it is. I was taught my dietitians, parents, other people that I needed to lose weight because I was bigger than usual. But if you look at pictures when I was young, I was chubby but I wasn't fat. I was beautiful. Cute. Cuddly. If I had just continued thinking that I was beautiful, stopped fighting with food, than I bet you I would have grown out of it and maybe had a mild/somewhat unhealthy relationship with food.

But, circumstances happen and now I live with this every day of my life. I don't blame the people that told me that I needed to lose weight or that I was ugly because I was fat. Why should I? It's not going to help any. If I need to blame someone, I blame society. But, anyway, I live with this constant push and pull with food. What is a normal portion? What would be better for me? I am craving sugar, is it because I want sugar or is it because I just had a horrible day at work? Should I feel guilty for eating one package of sugar wafers? A slice of bread? Am I hungry or just bored? Thirsty?

I would definitely like to not have to think about it. I would love to just say, "F it" and just go all out and eat whatever I want. And I do. One day. I only allow one day. Then I remember how good it feels to eat well. How great it feels to know that food doesn't control me; I do.

The reason why I am writing all this down (without hiding it) is because I had a quick conversation with some friends this weekend that really triggered this story in my head. One of my friends looked at me with surprise when I said, "I have an eating disorder." They didn't know that part of me. It's because I am ashamed of it. It's not something you admit without feeling like you are trying to grab attention. "Look at me! I have an eating disorder! Look at me! Look at me! LOOK AT ME!" And I felt that way after. I felt like I was just trying to make waves. But at the same time, this is who I am. It's come a loooonnnnggg way to get me here, but I wouldn't trade it any other way.

And, so it goes. Hi, I'm Jennifer. And I have issues with food.



(I'm getting there...)