Why Being Super Fat Sucked ~ Part Five

Just in case you missed them, you can find the first four parts here, here, here, and here.

In my last post, I mentioned how I always felt like people were judging me whenever we went out to eat.  I wish that was the only time I felt judged, but it was wasn't.  I hated leaving the house, because I was embarrassed about how big I had let myself get.  I even started avoiding family functions.  Looking back, I can see now that I may have been depressed.

In high school, I used to wear makeup and make sure my hair was done everyday before I left the house.  I was heavy back then, too, but nowhere near where I ended up.  Back then, I was the girl who always had boy friends, but no boyfriends.  In fact, I didn't have my first real boyfriend until I was out of high school.   I put on weight during that relationship, which should have been a warning to me for things to come.  During this relationship, I stopped wearing makeup most days, and though I still tried to dress nicely, most days I could be found in stretchy pants and a long shirt, which just so happened to be the style back then.  When that relationship ended, I lost a bunch of weight.  In fact, I got down to 133 pounds, which is where I stayed until I got pregnant with my son.

It was so easy to put on weight during my first pregnancy.  In fact, I gained sixty pounds while pregnant with Ryan.  When he was nine months old, I got pregnant with Kasi.  I only gained 16 pounds during that pregnancy, but I was still carrying around the sixty pounds from Ryan, so you can do the math and see where I was.  Several years later, when I got pregnant with Brandi, I was still heavy from my first two pregnancies.  I gained almost fifty pounds during that pregnancy, and nine years after giving birth to her, I was the heaviest I have ever been in my life.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm not blaming my pregnancies for my weight issues.  I could have been more careful with what I was eating.  I could have tried harder (who am I kidding, I didn't try at all!) to lose the weight after each baby.  But I didn't.

So, that left me weighing almost three hundred pounds and ashamed to leave my house.  I hated to see the disgust and pity in peoples eyes when they looked at me.  If we were out, and we passed a group of people and they were laughing, I just knew they were laughing at me.  Odds are, they probably weren't.  But I was so ashamed of myself, I just assumed the worst.

I never want to go back there.