Ten Things

Per the Honest Scrap award, ten things:

1. I am absolutely petrified of the dentist, and have an appointment today. This is the first time I've ever gone to the dentist on my own volition: every previous time I'd just been forced by my mother. I'm petrified that he's going to give me horrible news, and have been brushing and flossing like a mad woman since I made the appointment a few weeks ago. I'm pretty sure something's wrong with at least one of my teeth.

2. I am 99.99% certain I have PCOS. When I was a junior in college, my mom sent me an email saying "now that your 21 I think you should know you might have this because I had this." I have a lot of the symptoms (stray hairs I need to pluck, wildly irregular cycle, obesity, occasional acne, and the fact that whenever I google weird things about my body to figure out if it's normal a PCOS forum always shows up). The most common ways to treat PCOS are diet and exercise and the pill. An enormous part of this whole weight loss thing is to get rid of my PCOS symptoms. I'd like to get on the pill, too, but for that I'd need to see a doctor, and well . . .

3. My deepest fear is that I'll get diagnosed with diabetes before I'm able to join the Foreign Service. Once I have it, that's it, there's no way I'd be let in because they need to clear you for worldwide availability. If I got diabetes my life's ambition would be dead in the water, and I wouldn't have the slightest idea what I wanted to do with my life. One of the craziest things about diabetes is that just through diet and exercise, people can improve their health enough that they don't need any medications and can get results in the normal range on the "do you have diabetes" tests. But even though they test as normal and really no longer have diabetes, they count as having diabetes. Which, to me, says "do everything you can to avoid being diagnosed." Right now, if I had diabetes, and I keep losing weight and self cure, as far as the world is concerned, I'm not a diabetic. If I go in and see a doctor, get diagnosed, and then cure myself through diet and exercise, I'll still be a diabetic and can't join the Foreign Service.

4. I don't really think I have diabetes just yet, though. I'm still quite young, and my father didn't get it until his 50s. When I take online tests they say it's possible I have prediabetes and that I'm at risk and should get tested. Still, getting the pill to help with PCOS is not worth the risk of ruining my dream.

5. The only places I've ever lived for any length of time are New York City, Chicago, DC and Paris. I hate crowds, and part of me hates cities. Sometimes I think I should pick up and move out to Montana.

6. I grew up in Manhattan and went to one of the top private schools in the country. Yes, sort of like Gossip Girl, only less salacious. No, not really like NYC Prep, those kids all went to crap schools like Birch Wathen Lolnex. Whenever I meet people from NYC who grew up in the private school circuit, my first impulse is still to judge them on where they went to school. I try not to, though.

7. I once earnestly tried to explain to my college friends that I wasn't rich by using the argument that my parents had sold our second country house to help pay college tuition for my brother and I. As someone who's now seen a bit more of the real world, I now at least partially recognize how ridiculously sheltered I was.

8. I'm still ridiculously sheltered, though. I have an entry level DC salary (read: low) and live in a one bedroom apartment in the heart of downtown DC in a nice doorman building. My parents pay the vast majority of my rent and for all of my clothes and shoes, as well as a few other expenses. If it were up to me I'd live some place cheaper since I don't think the place is worth the rent, but my mom's a bit psychotic about safety, and since my parents were the ones picking up most of the bills I couldn't really argue too hard against it. In spite of that, I'm pretty frugal about most things and place a high value on saving money.

9. My friends from New York are all brats like me. My friends from college are mostly upper middle class kids, many of them the children of professors. I only have one friend who's from a wildly different background and who didn't grow up with the expectation that "of course everyone goes to college." I somehow met him through a friend of a friend of a friend at some event in college, and we ended up somehow hitting it off. He told me he went to UIC, but it turns out he'd dropped out about six months before I met him. When he told me the truth a few months later, I didn't blame him for lying to me.

10. The best $900 I've ever spent was to pay his community college tuition. I finally convinced him to go back to school this semester, but then a series of events (some partially his fault, some not at all) depleted his savings. Convincing him to accept the money was among the hardest things I've ever done, but also the best. I still worry, sometimes, that the money will somehow end up coloring our friendship, but thus far that hasn't been the case. I teared up the first time he emailed me from his new college email address. I am so, so, incredibly proud of him for going back.

Goodbye, Plateau

I had an insanely busy Friday and didn't get around to writing. Thank you very much to Mae, Amy and F. McButter for giving me lovely blog awards!

Friday, I finally got back into losing territory with the following weigh in:

Weight: 256.5
BMI: 44.02

I was pretty happy with that number. I also started having, you know, that thing with the blood, which I think is probably the cause of the past week's non-progress. It also explains this morning's ridiculously amazing weigh in:

Weight: 253.9
BMI: 43.58.

That's 2.6 pounds in a single day! 2.6! In one day! One of the statistics I keep in my spreadsheet is the day to day percentage loss relative to my weight the day before. Using that, I lost 1.01% of my weight in a single day. Of course it's not actual fat I'm losing, but still, such a pretty new scale number.

A few fun statistics:

I'm 47 days into my diet and I've now lost 24.1 pounds and 8.67% of my starting body weight. In all, I've kicked 4.14 points of BMI to the curb. I've lost an average of 3.59 pounds/week (a number still pretty heavily inflated by the 7.5 pounds I lost in week 1). To hit my mini goal of 250 by 9/15, I need to lose 3.9 pounds in 24 days, or an average of 1.13 pounds/week.

The numbers are all nice, but what I love most right now is the feeling of relief.

Because of the plateau I'd been having an incredibly frustrating week. After hitting 256.7, I went up and down for a whole seven days before I beat that number on Friday. As I've mentioned before, the upper half of the 250s is where I got stuck last time I tried to lose weight. I was really, really scared that I was going to get stuck again. Friday's number was only 256.5, and while it was nice to see a new low, I knew it wasn't by much and I was worried that I'd be back up today. To see 253.9 staring up at me today felt, well, like a weight being lifted off me.

I'd been sticking to my diet this past week, but I was scared. I was petrified my diet had somehow failed and that I'd just stop losing weight, even though I was still eating right. I didn't want to give up, but I also was incredibly worried that I might end up doing so. I didn't trust myself this week, I didn't feel as committed, as sure. It was not a place I wanted to be.

Today, I don't feel like that anymore. I know why I wasn't seeing the results this week. I know not to freak out next time it happens.

And I'm lower than I've been a long, long time. I'm going to get to 250, and I'm going to get there soon. Then I'll get to 233, and I won't be morbidly obese any more. And from there, I'm just going to keep going down down down. I've lost 24.1 pounds already: I can and will lose the rest.