Just in case you missed them, you can find the first four parts here, here, here, and here.
In my last post, I mentioned how I always felt like people were judging me whenever we went out to eat. I wish that was the only time I felt judged, but it was wasn't. I hated leaving the house, because I was embarrassed about how big I had let myself get. I even started avoiding family functions. Looking back, I can see now that I may have been depressed.
In high school, I used to wear makeup and make sure my hair was done everyday before I left the house. I was heavy back then, too, but nowhere near where I ended up. Back then, I was the girl who always had boy friends, but no boyfriends. In fact, I didn't have my first real boyfriend until I was out of high school. I put on weight during that relationship, which should have been a warning to me for things to come. During this relationship, I stopped wearing makeup most days, and though I still tried to dress nicely, most days I could be found in stretchy pants and a long shirt, which just so happened to be the style back then. When that relationship ended, I lost a bunch of weight. In fact, I got down to 133 pounds, which is where I stayed until I got pregnant with my son.
It was so easy to put on weight during my first pregnancy. In fact, I gained sixty pounds while pregnant with Ryan. When he was nine months old, I got pregnant with Kasi. I only gained 16 pounds during that pregnancy, but I was still carrying around the sixty pounds from Ryan, so you can do the math and see where I was. Several years later, when I got pregnant with Brandi, I was still heavy from my first two pregnancies. I gained almost fifty pounds during that pregnancy, and nine years after giving birth to her, I was the heaviest I have ever been in my life.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not blaming my pregnancies for my weight issues. I could have been more careful with what I was eating. I could have tried harder (who am I kidding, I didn't try at all!) to lose the weight after each baby. But I didn't.
So, that left me weighing almost three hundred pounds and ashamed to leave my house. I hated to see the disgust and pity in peoples eyes when they looked at me. If we were out, and we passed a group of people and they were laughing, I just knew they were laughing at me. Odds are, they probably weren't. But I was so ashamed of myself, I just assumed the worst.
I never want to go back there.