About

 

About Me

My name is Amy, and I’ll start of by saying right up front that I’m nobody special. I’m just a regular person, likely just like you. I have those hairy days when I put my pantyhose on inside out, struggle to find my keys, diaper the cat, and pay the bills with a crayon. I’ve had the same kind of struggles with weight gain and health as most people that will read this website. My purpose in starting this website, so many years ago, was so that I could vent my frustrations, celebrate my victories, keep myself accountable, occasionally unleash my inner moron, and just journal the whole crazy experience.

I’ll admit this website has grown in ways I would have never dreamed, as has its readership. It still baffles me that so many people stop by to see me. So many of you are wonderful, and I thank you for the support, encouragement, and smiles you bring me. I hope that I’ve returned that in at least some small measure. I also have my haters, to which I’d like to say the following: Sorry you are so unhappy. I hope you someday find a magic unicorn of happiness who grants your every wish. Or at the least, you find a new attitude while digging through couch cushions.

My story starts out like many other weight loss stories, then becomes triumphant, then comes crashing back down again. I’ve continued this up and down ride ever since, but it doesn’t stop me from talking about what I love and believe in – the low-carb lifestyle.

 The Backstory:

As a child I was thin, healthy and active. I can’t ever remember a time when I thought I was fat. Weight in general just never crossed my mind. It wasn’t until puberty hit that I started having a bit of a weight issue. Go Team Hormones! Granted it was only a slight problem. I seemed to be over-developing in the female ways – quickly surpassing my friends, who often lamented how they’d love to graduate from an A Cup to my size. My reaction was often something like “No you don’t! This bites. I feel like a freak show.”

With that development came hips, thighs, and a caboose. This only amounted to about 10 extra pounds or so, nothing horrifying, but as a self-conscious teenage girl, it bugged me a little. I was an active teen, although I wasn’t involved in sports. I loved dancing, skating, etc. I made it through high school with only a few extra pounds, the last year or so trying to employ a “healthy low-fat diet.”

At some point in the first couple of years after graduation, my body yelled “I HATE YOU!” and started slowly moprhing me into the Michelin Man’s ideal woman. Thankfully I was already married. (It wouldn’t have worked anyway – I hear he smells like tires.)

Five years into my marriage, I was expecting my first child. I had easily packed on 50 lbs, and so began my real struggle with obesity.

My second pregnancy, roughly 2 years later, was almost as bad in the weight department. In the end I weighed the same as in the first pregnancy, but didn’t gain quite as much. I’d never lost all the weight from the first pregnancy, so I should probably feel blessed I hadn’t gained another 50 pounds. By the end of each pregnancy I felt like the girl in Willy Wonka that ate the blueberry gum.

I’ve tried a variety of diets over the years – all of them geared in the low-fat direction. While I did lose weight, at times, I was also miserable and still felt terrible. Emotionally, I was a wreck. Physically, I had several problems. I had ruined my gallbladder with low-fat (yes, science says it’s happens), and had to have it removed in 1995, just after my first child was born. I had digestion problems and what I can only guess would be classified as IBS. I mean serious, embarrassing, get-out-of-my-way-I-need-the-bathroom-now issues. I had acid reflux that would send me to the floor in a fetal position, crying for my mommy. I was constantly fatigued and had mood swings that made Sybil look sane. In 2000 I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and clinical depression. I had also starting having terrifying panic attacks. Despite my many attempts at weight loss, I’d gotten to the point I no longer cared. I just wanted to die and get it all over with. My kids and husband are the only reason I kept going.

One day, I just kind of woke up from the fog and decided I had to find some answers. While doing searches online I found several websites that talked about how sugar affected the body, especially moods. I wanted to learn more, so I dug in and eventually found the Atkins Diet. I bought the book and just devoured every bit of info I could. I know it sounds cliche, but it really did seem as if Dr. Atkins was taking directly about me.

In November of 2001, I took steps to change my life. I started the Atkins diet with enthusiasm. I weighed 177 on a short 5’3” frame, and while not my heaviest weight, it was too much. It was the easiest diet I’d ever been on. I was never hungry and lost weight easily. No more walking the house like a zombie, wondering how many calories are in a single Cheerio. No more eating bland food that resembled the package it came in. No more rushing to the bathroom, fearing I’d somehow broken my sphincter!

In a year and half I’d lost 45 lbs and reached my goal of wearing a size 6. I was happy, all my ailments were gone, and I was no longer on any medications. Even my depression was manageable without meds. I felt like king of the world, minus the ship.

But as happens, life has its ups and downs. Let me tell you, low-carb living can fix a lot of things, but it can’t fix life. It can’t fix emotions or stress issues. It can’t fix frustrations and sadness that have nothing to do with diet. I wish it could have – it would then be the most perfect diet ever.

So after 6 months of maintaining my loss, life dropped in, robbed me of my will to try, and left a path of destruction all the way out the door. It was an emotional tornado. My husband was laid off from a very good job, thanks to management changes and cost cutting incentives. Here we were, with two small children (one still in diapers) going from a good job with insurance, to living off of unemployment, food stamps, and odd jobs. I started re-gaining the weight.

If you’ve ever had to worry about how to feed your kids, and keep a roof over your head, you’ll understand what I’m about to say next. I felt I needed to choose. I bought the cheapest meals I could get with the food stamps, so any extra cash we had could take care of necessities we weren’t getting help with. I lived off of Ramen Noodles, because they were 16 cents a meal. I made sure my kids and hubby ate as well as we could afford, and kept telling myself that as soon as things got better, I’d get back to a healthy low-carb lifestyle. We went on like that for 9 months, until thankfully a good job opened up. Sadly, this was a little too late to undo the financial Armageddon we were now facing.

I learned something about myself during that time. 1. I don’t handle stress well at all. I find myself rummaging through the fridge when things get tough. I’m like a vacuum looking for a dirty carpet. It’s still a dragon I have yet to slay. 2. I can regain weight faster than any other human alive. Bears preparing for hibernation ain’t got nothing on me. (I gained 10 pounds in a week once.) In that nine months, despite being off and on the diet, I had gained back all the weight I’d lost. This trend continued after the move until I’d ballooned up to my highest weight of 210. I realized that doing the diet part-time was not only unhealthy, but I was once again unhappy with myself. Oddly enough, my health was still as it was before the re-gain, except that my joints hated me with a passion.

 Now

So to skip forward, I’ve spent the last several years doing my best to stay on plan and get back to that size 6. So far it’s been an elusive goal. I do well for a while, lose a good bit of weight, then life kicks me in the junk and I slowly fall apart. I’ve yet to find a fix for my stress issues. But I’m trying. And I’m making progress in small steps. I WILL see that size 6 again. And I’m still healthier than in my low-fat-someone-please-put-me-out-of-my-misery days, despite the extra weight. I’m still medication free, and still feeling very good, with the exception of minor flare-ups when I do allow myself the wrong foods. My self-esteem has also taken a hard hit over the years and I fight it daily. Especially with my failings being so public. Like I said in the beginning, I’m no one special. I’m not a guru or shining example. I’m just a gal trying to make it all work and sharing what I learn with others along the way. And I like bacon. Lots and lots of bacon.

To see my original before and after photos, click here.

Here are my blood test results from 2002 (after 1 year on Atkins), and from 2010.