Day 1: The Confession

I broke toilet seats. At least two, maybe three. One of them wasn't even mine. I didn't even tell them that I broke it because my embarrassment was overwhelming. I have officially reached the point where I'm breaking things I sit on because of my weight. I don't know if I've ever let that out into the open like this before because I'm afraid of letting everyone in on a secret they already know: I'm fat. 

Weight has always been an issue for me. To be perfectly honest and more correct, FOOD has always been an issue for me, and that's probably because food is the least judgmental thing in my life. Supportive when I'm upset, celebratory when I'm happy, food has helped me through most every emotion I've experienced in my life.

Except it really hasn't. I don't recall food ever REALLY helping me through anything. EVER. Instead, it has left me high and dry in my emotional state and sometimes made me feel worse.

I won't go into the woes of my childhood or the tormented teenage years I endured because of my weight. I won't go on about the delay in marriage because boys were too grossed out by my appearance to give me a chance.I won't let you in on the secrets of my health; how my weight made it nearly impossible to get pregnant. Even when it did happen over two years ago, it was a stroke of luck and a lot of prayers. I'll spare you the sob stories of how I feel chained to sugar and simple carbs; how snack foods and desserts have made themselves my captors for decades until they lead me to where I am now--overweight and generally unhappy. I won't divulge my every secret detail because the only one that really matters right now is the one I've already told you.

I broke toilet seats.

Something HAD to change. So for three months, I counted calories and kept track of my steps and hopped on that scale hoping to find a slow and steady change. I lost eight pounds. EIGHT. In three months. And it wasn't a solid eight pounds, it was frustrating and fluctuating eight pounds. Still, I felt OK about it. A loss is a loss, right? But I had well over 100lbs to lose. This was not a powerful start.

Then one day a member of a facebook group I'm a part of mentioned that she had started the Whole30 program and found success with it. I was intrigued. I looked on their website, found the list of "no's" and promptly closed the browser. Were they kidding? No sugars? Fine. No bread? Can do. But all that AND NO DAIRY? AND NO BEANS? Forget it. Too hard. No way. Not worth it. A few days later, I read through the rules in their entirety and I was interested. Then I was intrigued. Then I was downright pumped about it. I was actually positive I could do it.

So I went through the steps outlined in the Whole30 book and I began the program on June 1, 2015.

Today is Day 1. I feel empowered and positive; a common first day feeling, I'm told. Things are bound to get tough. So that's why I'm sharing this journal. I need people to know how I'm feeling as I go through this day by day by day. I need the support and the accountability to break free of my attachment to food. I need people to cheer me on when I make teeny tiny choices-choices that to some might seem so easy but to me they seem insurmountable-to better my life.

In summary:

What I ate:
Breakfast: 2 eggs, 1 slice of ham

Lunch: An apple and a banana (I was terribly unprepared until I had a chance to go grocery shopping after lunchtime. I'll not make that mistake in the future).

Dinner: Chicken Caccitore. And it. was. de. licious.

How I felt:

Awesome. Inspired. Energetic. Then crabby. So, so crabby and tired. This is exhausting. This is SO. MUCH. WORK. But I'm doing it.  And that counts for something.

Chicken Caccitore