I use to be a bit pudgy during Jr. High and High School, not fat, but soft and squishy. After my first daughter was born, I began drinking all day and night with only a doughnut and a cup of coffee (sometimes) and a cheap cheeseburger from Burger King, followed by a few bursts of vomit at the end of the night before passing out. This routine brought me to my skinny (sickly, almost anorexic) new body that drove men crazy and made me feel like a million dollars.
New boyfriend, new town, same routine (but less of it) followed by the birth of my second daughter, produced a heavier but healthier me. This was not the me I used to love being, but I was happy with me, and at most could shed 10 pounds.
Another new boyfriend, way less partying, and a sense of fulfillment and happiness in life, along with my final child, a boy, marriage, and hypothyriodism (failing thyroid), brings me to the new me. This is the me that I have come to hate. The me that has allowed herself (hypothyroid or not) to become 60+ pounds over-weight.
This brings us to the current me: severely depressed, near divorce, extremely unhappy, and self hatred filled me........ until I decided that I was sick of wallering in self pitty and hatred. Sick of the lack of help from my doctors, (outside of the medicine to treat hypothyroid) who "want to allow mother nature to work its course" while I remain obese, I found my own answer to assisting the weight-loss. Now I am starting to feel like there is hope for me after all, and I intend to run full force until I reach my goals. No more pitty parties hosted by none other than myself, from here on out it is all about reaching my goals and rewarding myself for the hard work and effort I put forth to reach them.