My battle with carbs

I say battle, not war, because I feel like wars end, and battles continue. So it’s ongoing, but I’m trying to learn how to manage it.

I have always loved carbs. I’m talking pastries, donuts, cookies, brownies, cakes, breads, pasta and potatoes. And while the last few items don’t sound sugary, they do spike blood sugar.

Sugar is both my addiction and my kryptonite. I get episodes of low blood sugar, so eating sugar makes me feel so much better. But the more I eat, the more I get the highs and lows, and the worse I feel. And I gain weight, especially around my midsection. Not healthy. And not okay to maintain because eventually, my sugar/insulin imbalance will lead to diabetes, which runs in my family on my maternal side.

I feel like I’m on a runaway train. I crave sugar and how it makes me feel. I feel good when I eat it, and I feel comforted by it. But it’s hurting my health, badly. So while I feel good, I also feel bad. I know I’m not supposed to eat like this. And I feel so embarrassed and ashamed. Clearly, my weight shows the world that I eat poorly. I know that weight gain can come from medication, hormones and other issues. But I know that mine comes from poor choices. And I feel like there is a neon sign on my back, announcing that to the world.

Was I always overweight? As a child, I was very physically active. I played with the neighbourhood boys often. I was a very picky eater, only eating a handful of food. And surprise! They were all carbs.

As a teenager, I wasn’t skinny but I wasn’t fat either. I was comfortably in the middle. I was eating more types of food at this point, but still fairly picky.

At 18, 19 and 20, I became very skinny, almost underweight. I was in university, working part-time to pay for school and dating my future husband. I was pale, exhausted and ate mostly crap. I could eat anything and not gain a pound.

But 21, oh 21, brought me to my knees. Everything changed. I gained 30 pounds in 2 months. I could no longer eat whatever garbage I wanted without gaining weight. I panicked! My doctor ran lots of tests but could find no reason for this sudden change in my system. I was horrified, especially since I had bought my wedding dress right before I gained the weight.

Enter my Seven Year Theory. I’ve read that every seven years, your body changes, for good or bad. So 21 is a multiple of 7. And it hit me hard! But somehow I sailed through 28, likely because I was pregnant with my son, so I was oblivious to anything else. 35 was life-changing. I overhauled my eating habits and incorporated exercise, and lost 53 pounds. I felt GREAT! I was in control of my eating and physical fitness. I had found the secret and it WORKED!! I felt….supreme. Self-righteous. A little holier-than-thou, if I’m being honest. I secretly judged others – if I could live like this, they could too. So I must be the stronger one. Right?

Turning 40 smacked me on my skinny ass. Hard. The scale creeped up. I fought it, I pushed back. I gritted my teeth. Damn hormones! I had heard about the big 4-0!!

At 42 (oh, that multiple of 7!), I succumbed. I surrendered. I was spent.

I’ve living 42 right now. And it’s what prompted this gurrrl to write a blog about my love/hate relationship with carbs. Come with me on my journey as I work to face my past, alter my mindset today and look towards what the future will be.

#weightlossjourney

#carbs