Attack of the Killer Carbohydrates

I have been overweight pretty much as long as I can remember.  It has been a life-long struggle and one that I have sometimes cared about and sometimes not.  My "growing up fat" story is pretty straight-forward, nothing you won't have heard on Oprah or Ricki Lake (Aw... remember the Ricki Lake Show?).  I endured taunts and teases all though school.  Never dated -- was never asked.  Sometimes I felt like my friends (some of whom are still my friends to this day) didn't want me to go out with them because I was chubby and that somehow detracted from their mission to meet cute guys and have a good time.  I even took Phen-Fen (you know, the diet drug they quickly took off the market).  It may have caused potential irreparable damage to your body, but man the stuff did it's job.  It was really only when I went to college that my weight became less of a liability for me.  That's not to say that it still wasn't a factor (it was), but I really started to figure out who I was, found my niche, made awesome new friends, and gained confidence in myself.  The confidence was the biggest thing I think.  I was still overweight, it just didn't matter to me as much anymore because I was comfortable with who I was.  I ate what I wanted, dieted some, but mostly just lived my life and enjoyed it. 

In 2008, I hit my highest weight ever (even beating my pregnancy weight).  I had just been through an incredibly painful divorce and moved back in with my parents. Food was my constant comfort.  My life had been blown to pieces, but I could always count on the food to be there when I needed it.  The worst was that summer when my best friend got married and I was the maid of honor.  I remember looking at the pictures thinking that I looked like a giant green upside-down cupcake.  I. Was. Mortified.  So I started trying to eat better, worked out a little, and the weight started to come off.  I felt pretty good about myself!  Losing weight is not really rocket science.  You just need to exercise and eat more good stuff, less crap, and really less in general.  We all know this in theory.  My problem is I really like food.  A big plate of pasta with bread sticks, Cool Ranch Doritos, fried chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy... I mean c'mon good stuff, right?

This past summer, I just didn't feel right.  I never felt like doing anything, was tired all the time, and wasn't sleeping well.  In September, I had finally had enough and went to my doctor.  They ran all the normal tests to see if they could figure out what was up.  When the tests came back, I was told that I have Type II Diabetes.  I have a potentially debilitating, progressive, chronic disease and I am 31 years old.  No one can say for sure what caused it.  Diabetes can be genetic and does run in my family.  More than likely it is a combination of those genes and my poor eating and lifestyle choices that landed me in this boat.  My doctor gave me a month to "drastically modify my diet and exercise habits".  She told me I needed to lose 40 pounds.  I had already lost around that figure and had no idea how I was going to lose that much more. I cried.  A lot.  I went home with a blood glucose monitor, a book about Diabetes management, and was honestly kind of terrified.  Thinking about my son was what affected me the most.  He is only five and deserves to have a happy, healthy mom who is going to be around to enjoy all of the milestones yet to come in his life. 

So being the English nerd/historian/librarian that I am, I researched and read everything I could about Type II Diabetes.  In fact, I probably OVER researched.  When most people think about Diabetes, they think of it as the sugar disease -- sad day, no more cakes and candy.  I won't go into the clinical definitions - you can google that if you are so inclined, but what Diabetes management is really more about is the carbohydrates.  Those were the foods that were going to be off limits from now on.  I discovered that all of my old friends were essentially poison to my body now.  All my favorite carbs: bread,  pasta, potatoes, even Dr. Pepper.... had changed sides and were all slowly trying to kill me.  It may seem a little extreme, but this is really how I had to look at them in order to let them go.  (I should point that you can not completely cut carbohydrates out of your diet.  They are important to help fuel your body.  You just have to find a balance and try to put the RIGHT kind of carbs into your system.)

Over the past 5 months, I have really had to change my entire life.  It is a good thing really, but I just wish it was something I had been able to do on my own rather than be forced into by a doctor's diagnosis.  Gone are almost all of the starchy processed foods I loved -- white breads, enriched pasta, regular soda, etc...  They've been replaced with more meat, whole grain everything, more green veggies, and stuff that I never thought I would like to eat.  I read labels on everything.  (FYI one serving of carbs = 15 grams.)  Once I started reading how many carbs were in everything I was eating before.... WOW.  No wonder I was sick. Tonight we had spaghetti (my favorite) for supper, but instead of pasta we had spaghetti squash.  It was delicious!  No, really!  Six months ago, I never would have said that. 

I am not saying that I am now a perfect eater/exerciser.  I have total meltdowns when I feel like there is nothing healthy for me to eat.  I cheat and have a scone from the bakery a few times a month.  My exercise routine was up to walking 2 miles a day and is currently in the toilet.  Some days are better than others.  For some reason, this past week has been especially difficult for me.  Before when I had a week like this, I would have eaten an entire bag of potato chips to make myself feel better.  If I did that now, I would probably get physically ill.  It is ironic that after a life-long love/hate relationship with food (love to eat it, hate that is sticks around on my body), I now have to think about everything I put into my mouth and decide whether it is going to make me sick.  Every day is a work in progress, but I am getting better.  I have lost 25 more pounds and feel better physically and mentally than I have in many years.  I am currently keeping my blood sugar levels low with no medication or insulin.  You will probably hear more about this saga around here as I work to lose those last 15-20 pounds or face down a rogue croissant at a restaurant.  Diabetes is something I am going to have to deal with for the rest of my life, and I would like for that life to be long and happy.