A Vow to Myself: An Introduction

Six years ago, I was exactly where I am today, yet everything was different. My husband and I were still more than a year away from buying our first home, we had three small children, including a one-year-old with cerebral palsy, and the future was quite uncertain. Though we weren't struggling like we had in the past, when even living paycheck-to-paycheck was a lavish luxury, we were still on a very tight budget. Every penny was accounted for and saving for a down payment was number one on our to-do list.

Fast forward to today and life has changed quite a bit. We now have four children (baby number four was conceived nearly two years post-vasectomy!), our modest home has changed drastically since we moved in nearly five years ago (thanks to the amazing handiwork of my husband) and though we are by no means rich, we no longer struggle to make ends meet. My relationship with my husband is better than ever, I have some of the most amazing people in my life and I sincerely couldn't be happier -- save for one very large and looming exception.

On September 29, 2008, I went to the Providence Performing Arts Center and saw my number one, all-time favorite artist perform. Since 1995, when she dominated the air waves with her jaded women's anthem, You Oughta Know, I have been a HUGE Alanis Morissette fan. I have seen her so many times I have lost count (seven?) and her lyrics have touched me so profoundly, I often times get choked up listening to many of her songs. They have gotten me through heartache, guided me to acceptance and lifted me up when I was already so down. I'm not one to get starstruck by celebrities and if Brad Pitt stood before me right now, I'd give him the "What's up?" nod and move along. But Alanis? Well that's another story entirely. I'd have a million questions for her, but I'd be too tongue-tied to ask even one. 

So on this night six years ago (almost to the day), I watched her from the sixth row (the closest I had ever gotten thus far!) and allowed myself to be swallowed up by her artistry, her beauty, her pure awesomeness. When the show was over, there was a t-shirt in the lobby that caught my attention. It was light pink with a darker pink lily (at least I think it was a lily) on it, the words, "A vow to myself,"  in block letters spread across the flower. I felt like I had to have this shirt, but there were none in my size. I bought it anyway, deciding I would make a vow to myself and finally lose weight, swearing that the shirt would one day fit. 

It still doesn't. 

Six years ago, I was exactly where I am today. Overweight, inwardly miserable and depressed, addicted to sugar, vowing to make a change and failing myself time and time and time again. Today, I am perfectly content on the outside. At first glance, and even upon close examination, you'd think I was blissfully happy. I love everyone in and everything about the life my husband and I have built together. I'll be the shoulder to cry on, the voice of reason and the kick in the pants any one of my friends needs. I'm optimistic and try to see the good in every situation. But every night when I go to bed, I am filled with self-loathing. I make more empty promises to myself and swear the next day will be different. I lecture myself, I forgive myself and I formulate a plan. In the morning, I try to stay positive and stick to it, and some days I actually do. But other days, I fail miserably and I go to bed another night hating myself. 

I've tried just about everything you can think of. Last spring, I lost almost 20 pounds using the 21-Day Fix (which I highly recommend), but I went away on vacation, then the summer came and not only did I not stay on track, but I gained back all of the weight I had lost. With no less than 20 cookouts and parties on the books throughout the summer, I decided to put my weight loss goals on hold and made a new plan to begin Sept. 1. It last a few days, but the addiction continued to win over the logical, rational thoughts I have and the promises I've made and before I knew it, three weeks have passed and once again again I'm crying myself to sleep, so angry and disappointed, wondering when on earth I will finally get a handle on this problem of mine and just finally overcome my sugar addiction. 

The kids are off school today and about an hour ago, my stress level was through the roof. Cady was whining (she's my 7-year-old with CP and when she whines, it makes you want to stick pencils in your ears just to avoid listening to her), the baby (can I still call her a baby at almost 3?) was yelling at my son about something ridiculous (and he was taking it), my oldest was loudly shushing her and the dog was in his crate, barking his high-pitched yelp. I could feel my nerves buzzing, afire with stress, and all I could think about was the ice cream in the freezer. When everything calmed down, I grabbed the pint and a spoon and locked myself in my bedroom. 

I was so angry. So, so, SO angry. As I sat there, taking one slow bite after another, I began asking myself what it was going to take. What would it take for me to do the right thing and FINALLY not just lose weight, but be healthy? I know the logistics. I know HOW weight loss works, I know WHAT to eat (and what NOT to eat) and I understand the importance of exercise. That being the case, I know losing weight and getting healthy is as simple as this: when you have a choice to make, make the right one. Just go through the day, one day at a time, making the RIGHT choices. Only I have the power to make these choices about what to put in my body. If I can just follow this simple concept, I could be shedding away the pounds in no time.

But I keep making the wrong choice. No matter how many times I've gone over all reasons why I should just make the right choice, I continue to screw it all up. I continue to give up what I want most for what I want now. 

And so here I am. I'm at the end of my proverbial rope. When I said I've tried just about everything, that's no joke (I'll save that for another day). So as I sat there, scolding myself, reminding myself of all the people I am letting down besides myself, I felt the urge to write. Writing is what I do. It's what calls to me and it's how I express myself. I put the baby down for her nap, sat down at the computer and opened it up. I had no idea what I was about to write, but I knew I had to write something. 

That something, I quickly decided, was going to be this blog. I thought of all the times I had enlisted in help from a selec few friends and family members (you all know who you are) and as much as they all wanted to help me, they couldn't hold my hand through this. No one can help me but myself. So what were my options? What if, I thought to myself, I created a new blog where I put myself out there, for anyone to see, and make this public vow to myself? What if in doing so I inspire others just like me, feeling lost and full of despair, to make their own vows to themselves and together we get this done? What if I knew these would-be followers were counting on me and if I fail yet again, the whole world (not literally, I know) would know my failures?

Well here I am, putting this out there for anyone to see, pledging to make a vow not only to myself, but anyone who chooses to take the time to read and follow this blog. Let me sit on this a day or two as I think of exactly what my promises to both my readers and myself will be, but I vow to be back soon...