I have put on weight in the last few years.
A helluva LOT of weight.
A metric buttonne.
Feed a few small countries on one of my arse cheeks.
Eight months pregnant with 40 year old triplets.
And I got it in my head that in order to feel better about it I would throw away the scale.
Never know what my true weight was, that way I wouldn’t obsess on the number but just how I FELT.
Sounds healthy, right?
Lately I have been feeling bloated and blah, and OF COURSE now is the time that the nurse from my doctors clinic starts badgering me to come back for a follow up appointment re my shoulders and my ‘weight management’.
Last time I was there it was WINTER.
I have been dreading this appointment, knowing that I would stand on those scales (with my eyes shut of course, I AM NOT A NUMBER) and she would tell me that I was the biggest contestant in Biggest Loser history and then she would take my waist measurement and need TWO tape measures, a sherpa and a packed lunch to get around me.
I might be exaggerating slightly.
The appointment went well, she chastised me for doing too much, pushing through the pain and exhaustion and tsk tsked when I talked about not being able to sleep after a day when I pushed myself too far.
She was not surprised by the fibromyalgia diagnosis, but urged me to remember that I still have tears in my tendons so not to put all the pain down to wonky pain signals.
We chatted about Lite n Easy and how I couldn’t possibly get through all the food on most days, and different combinations of my meds and seeing a psych about my PTSD.
And then she brought out the ratfucksonofabitch scale.
I took off my shoes, I would have taken off my fucking pants if I thought it would save me a few kilos.
I held my breath, closed my eyes and got on the scale.
She told me I lost weight.
My waist measurement was steady. Not at the epic proportions that I feel it has grown to.
She asked me what I thought I weighed. And laughed out loud when I whispered the number.
20 to 25 KILOS heavier than I actually am.
What the what now?
‘Don’t be so hard on yourself’ she said, ‘You have LOST weight and that is amazing given your challenges, keep up the fantastic work!’
She organised some appointments and suggested some therapies and strongly advised me to buy a scale.
To weigh myself MONTHLY and continue on my modified regime ensuring rest was my top priority.
I FLOATED out of the office, 20-25 kilos lighter than before.
I was wrong. Sometimes the number IS important.
Even if it is to just recalibrate your brain.