Wait, What?

Holy cow! I only posted twice in April! Geeze, did THAT get away from me.

April had the last-minute rehearsals leading up to performances of the lovely lovely play, which took me more or less totally out of comission for two weeks, and of COURSE with that lovely stress level I succumbed to yet another illness (it's passed - let's put it behind us and move on!) which accounted for the better part of another week..... aaaaaaaaaaand believe it or not the CLEANING HAS BEGUN!  I've had two, um, "crews" come so far to help, and WHOA what a difference. And you know what? The areas we've done ARE STILL CLEAN AND ORGANIZED! I'm thrilled about this - usually when I clean a space, the next day, you'd never know I'd cleaned it. But Mr. Man and I are making extra special effort (read: nagging the bageezies out of each other) to put things away, hang up coats, throw it out if we're not using it, etc. It's AH-MAZE-ING.  And has been taking a bit of priority, not going to lie.

STILL TONNES AND TONNES OF WORK TO DO, but... five rooms done.  Huzzah!  (Will post pictures....later. hahaha)

No, today, besides being shocked when I saw how little I'd written in April - wait, what? - I needed to confess. I'm in SHOCK. I'm horrified and SO embarassed and just, disgusted with myself. AAaaaaand this is where I come to blab that kinda' stuff to the entire universe (what the heck is WRONG with we people who blog? I don't even know.... oy).

The last few months, in my sporadic posts, I've lamented about how horrendously I've let myself go this year and how sick of feeling fat and blah blah blah blah blaaaaaaaah blah blllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh whatever. I think I'm sicker of writing about it than I am feeling about it, honestly.  I mean, what? Every other post I get around to is about my expandabutt lately? Geeze. Say it with me now: "Get a GRIP, lady, and get it the freak together already!!"

NOTHING fits. Even the pair of Mr. Man's jeans I've been wearing....almost every day for the last few months? O:-) Even THOSE are starting to get tight - they're uncomfortable right out of the wash. What the HECK.

So today, I FINALLY did it. I FINALLY powed up my wii fit balance board - had to change the batteries and everything - and WEIGHED myself.

I've been talking, inwardly, about needing to do this for months. Like, okay, seriously, WHAT is the damage. I know nothing fits, HOW MUCH WEIGHT have I really put on??

But finding out has TERRIFIED me, I think.  'Cause I'm not going to lie, after I weighed myself today and got SLAPPED in the face with THAT reality, I had to sit down on the couch and get my mojo back together to keep the tears back.

What the HELL have I done to myself? And WHY??

Today I weigh 194.9lbs and have a BMI of 31.32.

Wait. WHAT?!?!

Now, you may recall how I feel about the validity of BMI and what garbage it is as a measure of fatness. But.....to the best of my knowledge if I were to go into the doctor's office today with that information she would go by her BMI chart.

And tell me that yes, I am in fact, 100% very well, full on OBESE.

I mean, that is how obesity it defined, by a calculation of height & weight. And while I may not agree with the practice it's how things are done.

I am, currently, textbook obese.

That's a tought one to swallow, not going to lie.

So, I don't know if that's the kick in the pants I need to turn myself around so I can stop feeling humiliated every time I walk out of my house - true story - or if the ridiculous, constant-binge state I've been in for the last year is going to just continue - is it called a binge if it never ends?

I don't know what's wrong with me, but I know I am not this person. I am not obese. I'm active, fun, silly, and run around with all the kids at parties. I don't live off of chocolate or pick movies over workouts. I don't hate running.

I am lost inside a ginormous layer of bubbly, dented, flabby lard and can't get out.

TODAY:
did the Biggest Loser "Last Chance Workout" which I LOVE and highly recommend - constantly changing interval workout. It's HARD by the end, holy crow.  I think it's about 35 minutes.
Next: giving up waiting and getting rid of my clothes that don't fit. If I ever lose the weight again I'll just get to go shopping. I think I'm ready to live with that.