Complete and Total Breakdown

My doctor wants me to lose weight. So much so she even set a 3-month goal. She made a point of telling me that it was going to take a lot of work to lose weight. A month later, I can tell I've lost weight, but I've been putting off the one thing I new I needed to do.

I'm very good at making excuses.

First, I was dealing with insurance in trying to make the referral appointments my doctor gave me. I have PPO now, so I technically don't need a referral but I needed to check they were in my network and such. And not knowing how to go about with insurance on that, well, I dragged my feet for awhile.

Those appointments are set now, so...

Then, well, there was the matter of never actually working out...at least not since 10th grade and well, we didn't exactly use machines back then. So I didn't really want to go by myself because I have no clue where to start and how to use the machines...or what I should even do. A friend offered to get me a guest pass on her membership so we could go together. I asked if a certain week worked with her schedule; she said yes, but she had to double check whether or not her membership had lapsed. She didn't get back to me and I didn't follow-up. Other things came up with her, so I didn't mention it again.

And finally, I knew I couldn't wait any longer; the first month of the 3-month goal was quickly ending and I had a 1-month follow-up coming up with my doctor...so I went online and requested a 3-day guest pass. That was last week. I had an event on Wednesday and since the gym is by work, it didn't make sense to start a 3-day pass on Thursday as I wasn't going to go all the way to the westside on a Saturday for the 3rd day.

See, I told you I was very good at making excuses.

Today was the big day and boy was I dreading it. Last night I went over some questions with another friend and she was very supportive and encouraging. I got a bag ready last night with gym clothes and such. Last week I even bought a new pair of sneakers (same ones I already had and were very comfortable).

I left for work this morning with my bag and every intention of going to the gym after work. As each hour passed, I was filled with dread and my heart was pounding in my chest. I go in early on Monday's so technically I'm supposed to get out of work earlier. Today was a bit heavier so I may have not been in a rush to leave. As the minutes ticked by though, at the end of the day and I knew I couldn't dawdle anymore, that's when the dread I felt all day turned into panic and the tears started rolling down my face.

I was terrified.

It wasn't about not knowing how to use the machines or what to do,

It was coming to terms with the emotional impact of being fat all my life.

I've never cared what others thought about me. At least not on the surface. I feel the judgment from strangers and family. And I've used it to build a wall and used my fat as a protective shield. Whenever my mom would attempt to talk to me about dieting or exercising; I just got fatter.

I've never wanted to be thin thin. I've just sometimes thought it would be nice to be a size 2X instead of 4X or 5X; better clothing options.

But the more I've been rejected by people for being fat, whether by the opposite sex or my own family (it's very hard to feel like your mother would actually love you if you lost weight), instead of it motivating me to lose weight, I've sunk my heels in and said, "Fuck 'em!"

So fat I am. Fat I have always been.

I'm sleeping with someone that doesn't seem to care that I'm fat. He's never shied away from taking off all my clothes. We're always completely naked together. He even requests photos of me naked - not just my boobs or butt, completely naked. I had a really hard time the first time he asked for them. Seeing my naked in person is one thing, having an actual image of it is different. But he forced me to face it and work through it. It excites him. I see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch.

We've been together for over 2 years and he's never said anything about my weight. I worry about being on top and he doesn't care. He flips me, pulls me, spreads me open, holds onto me and touches me with a passion I'd never felt and with absolutely no judgment.

The insecurities I buried deep down, spilled onto the surface as I walked from work to the gym today and I completely broke down in tears. All I wanted was to go home and remain fat; stay in my fat bubble where I'm safe. Because it's one thing to feel like you were rejected for being fat; and a completely different thing, a much worse feeling to know.

I didn't have to change into the gym clothes I took with me. I spent the time at the gym with the sales guy going over why I was there and what my goals were; he gave me a tour of the gym and got me all signed up with a membership and an appointment for a personal assessment, where I'm sure it will be drilled into me how much I need a trainer for a boatload of money.

At least I get a reprieve for another day or two.