The Long Road to the Beginning

     Before I get into too many details of where I am now, let me give you the details of where I have been. I have NEVER been healthy. At least, not since I was a kid. When I was in the 7th grade, I began to become really self conscious about my weight. I had family and acquaintances that would make comments about what I ate and how I had fat rolls. Looking back, I really didn't. At the time, however, it went straight to my head and I stopped eating more than a bite here and there. I became obsessed with salads and my pants size. By the 8th grade, I had gone from a size 4/5 to a size 0, and those hung off of me. In high school, I was a whopping 98 pounds soaking wet. My highest, I believe, was 110 in my senior year. I'd go to school before my parents were even out of bed so I could avoid the kitchen and I would go off campus to walk during lunch hour and not re-appear until after everyone was done eating. I wore long sleeved shirts and baggier items often because they made me feel even smaller. I think subconsciously I knew I had a problem and I was trying to hide it.
     After high school, I started binging and purging. My weight yo-yoed between 100 to 125. I ate, but it was rarely healthy. I preferred to enjoy it and then just be rid of it when nobody was looking. I worked two jobs, drank pretty heavily and had a thing for Taco Bell. I ran almost every night after work and kept myself busy just to keep from gaining too much at any one time.
     In 2006, I joined the Navy. Left for boot camp in 2007. While there, they noticed my eating habits and had people watching me. I admitted at that point that I had a problem and they sent me to see a counselor. The counselor I saw there didn't really take me seriously. However, my RDC (recruit division commander) asked me if I wanted sent home. I got to 119 pounds by the time I was out of boot camp. While I didn't change my eating too much, I had started eating apples with a lot of peanut butter and keeping it down. Not the healthiest choice, but it got me off of the "send home" list. One of the women I was in boot with actually approached me the day after we graduated and told me I ate too much. She was another one that had an eating disorder, but she was different and didn't hide it at all. She would come straight in and go right to the bathroom to puke after every meal with everyone watching. Literally watching. I think I was the only one that didn't try to crowd around the toilet she would be at. This sounds bad, but I wondered at times if she did it more for attention than having an actual problem. Mainly because of how she handled it. She wasn't bone thin by any means, which really doesn't mean much, but she flaunted it. Like it was something to be proud of. Not that it mattered a whole lot to me as it took the attention off of me.
    Shortly after I left boot camp, I ended up hurt. I tore some ligaments and messed up a tendon in my left ankle. My life slowly swirled out of control. Anything I did eat stuck to me. I couldn't get rid of it because I couldn't exercise. I was stuck on crutches, I didn't puke in front of people, if I skipped a meal it was noted and if I happened to try to do any of the above, SOMEONE would notice and say something. I tried to keep meals small and I hobbled around as best as I could. I tried to get rid of the crutches and walk or run more, but someone would always say that I needed to follow doctors orders. Either that or I would be in so much pain that I would immediately regret it. By the time I moved to the next station, I had hit 130 pounds and a depression. I was within a healthy weight range, but all I saw in the mirror was fat. In reality, I suppose that is true. I was what they call a "skinny fat." I didn't eat exactly right and I didn't exercise, so I had more fat to muscle ratio.
     At the next station I went to, I met my husband. He thought I was beautiful just the way I was. Made me feel great! I finally lost the crutches and was walking and swimming a lot. For a little while, my depression disappeared. My eating didn't go back to the way it was, but it didn't suddenly become healthy either. I was eating a lot of canned soup, those prepared meals that you heat in the microwave and take out. My husband, boyfriend at the time, deployed. I went through a miscarriage that threw my emotions into a blender. Then I had a surgery to try and fix the ligaments I tore and landed myself right back on crutches. The weight quickly piled on. When he returned from deployment, I was no longer 130 pounds. I was 155 and very noticeably reaching an unhealthy weight range. Within a few months, I went up even more to 174. Then I got pregnant again.
    Fast forward to 2009. I got out of the Navy and I had a beautiful little baby girl that summer. Becoming a mom was the most amazing feeling ever! However, I had PPD. I sat around and did nothing. I didn't clean a whole lot, I didn't go out for walks or runs, I didn't eat healthy and I stopped being me. I was a mess. I tried to run and get healthier a couple times, but nothing ever lasted more than a couple weeks. By the time my husband went on his second deployment and I stepped on a scale again, I was 240 pounds. That was late January, early February 2011. That was a slap in the face. I needed to change. This is where my journey to get healthy started.