Day 43 – B-MAD Do you have it or is it just me?

20 lbs lost

This Wednesday started out with a bang as I woke up at 5:45 a.m. and gingerly stepped on the scale stripped down naked (you know this is how y’all weigh yourselves so don’t act shocked). Too bad my scale doesn’t make the cool “Biggest Looser” sound effects but it was still very exciting as the scale registered another 2 lb loss. As of today, this brings my total to 20 lbs lost in 43 days. I did a quick happy dance and virtual high fived myself since no one else is awake at this hour.

Quickly calculating if it is possible to try on 9 pairs of pants before my 6 a.m. conference call, I ran to my closet and pulled out the “Less Fat Bin”. This bin consists of clothes I was wearing at the end of last summer before my serious downward spiral of depression and rapid weight gain. I immediately started trying on pants and Voila! They fit again! Yeah! Good news since I refused to buy a stitch of maximum density clothing this winter. The 2 pairs of pants I had been rotating since December are starting to wear thin.

This brings me to the discussion of wardrobe as a measure of mood. I recently had a side conversation with one of you about this very topic so honesty check. If you walk into my closet, it is brimming with clothes yet I still have nothing to wear. I know every woman says that but for a forever yo-yo dieting gal, there really is some merit behind the whine.

Does everyone have the dreaded “fat bin”? Well I have the exact same clothes in 4 different sizes. Each size’s wardrobe is fairly limited even thought together they make a sizable collection. It feels like the ultimate failure when you finally have to admit to yourself that no, you can’t in fact go out in a pair of pants with a serious camel toe where even a blind man would make out those panty lines. Ugh, the ultimate of hall of shame moment! Self denial can only take you so far until you face the mirror and grudgingly have to admit that the pants you just put on did not give you a Costco sized muffin top 2 months ago.

My mood and general outlook on life fluctuates with the respective clothing bin I have to dip into.
Size 22 - Pissed! Danger Will Rogers she is unstable (which in fact is where I started this journey). Proceed with caution to all of those who live in my universe.
Size 20 - Usually sad but can put on a good face for company.
Size 18 - Happy most of the time with just light pepperings of sadness. Very approachable and open to new adventures while in this bin. This is how I ended up on a mule in Tahoe last summer. Another time….
Size 16 – FABULOUS!!! Excellent opportunity to spend mass quantities of time with fun loving gal before emotionally unstable gal returns and the size 22 bin needs to be pulled out again.

And so the cycle has repeated thusly for the past 20+ years.

Well, last spring, I threw out my size 22 “Maximum Density” bin. Now don’t gasp in horror at my complete lack of a disaster recovery plan while heading into a recession. I was just so confident that this time I would never return to that size again. I kept the size 20 bin as a buffer and ceremonially released 22’s to the universe. “Be free denims and kakis! May you find a new owner and aid them on their own weigh loss journey” No seriously, I am not making this crap up as I donated them to a Day in OA (Overeaters Anonymous) clothing swap.

My good faith act is why I had exactly 2 pairs of pants this winter. The forgotten ones in the back of the closet that somehow missed my ceremonial cleansing frenzie. This is just one of the many bumps and bruises I have endured in my life long battle of the bulge. Sorry to those of you who had to endure my “Glamour Don’t” style this season? I simply refused to buy more 22s after the big ceremonial release and all. My ego just a little too bruised.

Will I finally ever get to a place where I feel confident in my sustainability at an emotionally acceptable lower weight where I will invest in a quality wardrobe? Perhaps with Donuts-to-Diva logos all over them? Hee hee! Who knows, but for now once again reaching into the size 20 bin allows me to put on a good face for company and keep sadness at bay most of the time. Do any of you also have B-MAD (bin related mood alteration disorder) or is it just me? I would love to hear your stories so we can laugh and cry together. Feel free to use the comments section to share!