Chronicles of a Late Bloomer

I may have mentioned this before, but in August of 2007, my therapist of 4+ years moved to a different state. She generously gave me several months of warning, and we spent those months dealing with my childish tantrums about her “leaving me.” Even though I’m a therapist, I do recognize that not everyone requires 4 years of therapy. But when I started therapy, I was more than just a “fixer-upper.” I was a bonafide disaster area. Her departure was untimely for me, yes, but I’m finally getting over the loss and can be genuinely happy that she has moved on to bigger and better things.

For my part, I’ve become a bigger and better thing. After she left, I was forced to face my roadblocks and challenges on my own — an exercise which left me stronger and more capable than ever — but I also quietly ate my way back up to over 350 pounds. In fact, I ate my way to almost 360 pounds, which is a new all-time high weight for me.

This morning, when I rejoined Weight Watchers, my “official” weight was 336 with a “naked” weight of 334. What this means is that I had quietly dropped the 20-or-so pounds that I used to fill up the therapist void, and had done so simply by trying a little harder. I ate smaller pieces of pie, and opted out of the white rice and pasta for a while. I took the stairs and parked at the end of the parking lot.

The end result is that my body has returned to its “stasis” weight. Years ago, I realized that without dramatic intervention — without major changes in diet or expenditure — my body rests comfortably around 335. I’ve frequently approached 300 (though never crossed it) and yet, when my steam runs out, my body bounces right back up to 335.

Still, having lost 20 pounds on my own, I feel an odd sense of momentum — in spite of being at my stasis spot.