The Moment Of Awareness

I woke up one warm morning in May, slowly getting out of bed, wearing the customary pajama pants and requisite grubby T-shirt. I was sore, tired, and hungry. I wanted food, but didn't want to cook anything. Heck, I was too tired to even toast an English Muffin. Wearily I glanced at my holey red underwire bra and decided I was too tired to put it on. The shoulder straps dig my shoulders and the wire digs into the fleshy part of my back. I am no glutton for punishment, so I figured that the man in the drive thru window of McDonald's didn't care much about how high my boobs were that morning. Instead I reached for my tattered purple sports bra, the bra that keeps my breasts off of my knees, but thankfully requires minimum effort to wear. Throwing my ancient navy blue hoodie on, I gathered some energy, and went to the car.

Once in the car I realized that it would have taken just as much effort to grab a pop tart. Oh well, I was already in the car - there was no going back. Besides, McDonald's was sounding better by the moment. Wrestling the seat belt around my fat rolls, I started up the car and off I went.

Yum.

Reaching McDonald's in that miraculous time between breakfast and lunch, I saw that there was no line. Glad that there was nothing keeping this fat girl from her food I ordered 2 ham, egg and cheese bagel sandwiches, 1 hash brown, and 1 large Mocha Frappe. Yum. Oh yeah, I got some sausage egg Mcmuffins for the hubby while I was at it. Too make me feel less guilty I grabbed him a Mocha Frappe too. I'm so thoughtful it's scary.

Once at home, I woke up the Man, and left him his food. I went downstairs, plopped onto my side of the couch, and ate one bagel sandwich as fast as I could. I didn't want my husband to find out exactly how much I had ordered, or how much I spent. It was good, but I barely tasted it. When he finally came downstairs I was working on my second sandwich, and he remained blissfully unaware of my expenditure. And my appetite.

It was somewhere in these morning moments that I realized something. I had not seen my bellybutton in about 19 years. If I get a mirror, and lay flat down on my bed - I just may catch a momentary glimpse. But I haven't seen it in forever, primarily because I'm just too lazy to get the mirror out and find it. I realized that I don't know what it's like to have a flat stomach, or what if feels like to shop in a regular store. I don't know what it is to sweat, much less work out. I'm 31 years old, and I'm on 4 different medications, because of weight related health problems. I can't play soccer with my 9 year old son, or walk around the mall with my friends. I realized that I'm scared, and I don't want to die of a heart attack at age 40.

So this is my wake up call, my last ditch effort to take back my life. This blog will hopefully serve at a place to vent, whine, brag and boast. I want to be the success story, the woman who loses 150 pounds (or more) through natural means. I can do this.

My plan? Exercise, I joined a gym with my best friend - who is willing to work out with me 3 times a week. Eat right, I don't know how - but that's what the Internet is for. I can research, and learn what I need to know. So, join me as I try to solve The Case Of The Missing Bellybutton - laugh, cry, snort, mock, whatever you want. Just don't offer me a cookie.