My scale read 267.8 pounds yesterday. Granted, I went out with a friend the night before, so that added a little weight that will drop off quickly. On the other hand, I’m also facing a reality of having regained almost all of the weight I’ve lost. I started at 275, lost 40 pounds, and then gained over 30. I was convinced this wouldn’t happen this time. I thought I’d figured this thing out, but here I am.
The good news is that me at 267.8 pounds today is much better off than the me of 3 years ago at 275. I am slowly learning to take care of myself and find healthy ways to cope with stress. I’m more active now than I was. I’ve been through much more difficult situations and, by the grace of God, I’m still standing (If you just had singing gorilla pop into your mind, you’re welcome…and now you probably have every song from Moana cycling through…but enough about quality sound tracks from animated films).
Now the struggle is taking care of myself better physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually when life is crazy. Some of it comes easy, like getting enough sleep. Some of it, not so much. Taking a shower, eating a vegetable, going for a walk, drinking water, reading my Bible…these are all things I need to be intentional about when I’m out of the usual routine. I need to use coping skills other than food in times like this, and there are plenty to choose from (reading, listening to music, journaling, etc.).
Before I know it, my “usual routine” will no longer exist. We are on the road to being licensed to adopt up to four kids from foster care. Unless something pops up between now and getting a placement that derails the process, I am about to enter a new stage in life. I know I’ll never truly figure this out all the way, but I’m hoping and praying to be in a better place when it happens.