"I wonder how long it will be before I can't get these on any more and they will become part of that stack in the top of my closet?"
It left me sad and feeling heavy hearted. Those feelings and thoughts continued to pool around my soul this morning.
I have recently gone shopping. Clothes shopping. First owner clothes shopping. This is something I have never done before. I am one who generally does not enjoy shopping, of any kind. I hate grocery shopping, I hate shopping at Walmart, I hate clothing shopping. I own a lot of clothes, but they have basically all come from a thrift second hand store, or handed down from friends or my sister-in-law, and they all "sort-of" fit on their best day. At least until recently.
At Christmas my husband wrapped up an old shirt and an old pair of my boots and inside them there were gift certificates to a local women's clothing store. And then a few days later he drove me to that store and dropped me off and said he would be back in a few hours.
I stood there having no idea what size I was or what I should get. I was filled with anxiety and dread, not wanting to climb into a dressing room with an oversized mirror and pouring my cellulite heavy legs in and out of ill-fitting clothes. And then a wonderful saleslady took me by the hand and helped me find a few new shirts, pants, and an adorable pair of tall boots. Most of the items actually fit and looked fairly ok on me, and I had to admit, I had a rather enjoyable experience.
I also recently ordered a few new items online, which haven't arrived yet, and I'm more than a little nervous what I ordered isn't going to fit, and I'm more than a little disappointed in myself for allowing myself to continue to spend money on new clothing. I also headed back to that women's clothing store to return just a few small items from my initial shopping experience, and I was able to exchange and find a few more new items to add to my wardrobe. Part of me wants to go back and return everything. Part of me wants to change my clothes multiple times a day so I can wear everything new I bought. This is completely foreign territory for me.
And now I am suddenly faced with the reality that it's probably time to clean out my closet.
It's time to dive in and take the time to go through, try on, evaluate, and ultimately clean out some of the old and some of the now too big. I keep putting it off. I've been at this point before. Over and over in fact I've been here. The number on the scale has finally passed to that mental number I set as my goal, and I'm left with an odd excitement over finally fitting back into those smaller clothes, mixed with an already self growing disappointment in myself just knowing I probably won't be at this place for very long. Soon the weight will start creeping back on, and soon those smaller clothes will again become tight, and soon, I will again throw in the towel and give up the battle. I'll stop getting up every morning to exercise, and I'll allow that pain in my feet, or hip, or head tell me it's ok... it's justified. A few skipped days will become a few skipped weeks. I'll start eating more sweets and less fruit and vegetables. I'll allow a little more sauce on my meats, a few more helpings here and there. I'll start drinking more wine and a lot less water, and the more I eat and cheat, the less I will log and blog. And suddenly an entire season will have passed and I'll find myself right back at square one. Thirty pounds heavier and both mentally and physically miserable.
I have shuffled my boxes of cheap, used clothes of various sizes and shapes around my house my whole life. What hangs directly in the middle of the closet usually is what currently fits. The outer hanging wings are most tops and shirts that I could wear, but usually don't. There are stacks and stacks of pant on the shelf above the hanging clothes. The majority don't fit and are never worn. After awhile I will finally box up several boxes of clothes I can no longer fit into and quietly stack them in a corner of the basement. On occasion it's the larger clothes going into those boxes, and the smaller clothes will find their place for a very short time again amid the hangers.
And here I am again, at the doorway of my closet. Overwhelmed with many emotions. I find excitement with my current journey with my weight. I'm proud of how far I've come this time. I'm filled with strength, health, hope. I'm also filled with fear and dread, and now guilt. The dread of knowing I am probably destined, yet again, to fail on this weight journey. I know I will end up quitting the battle and cycling right back up to where I always seem to end up. I look at the new clothes recently purchased, with their crisp pleats and tiny shiny sparkles and little price tags, and I feel guilt. Guilt over the money I have spent. Money spent that will end up folded and stacked neatly in another box in the corner of my basement. The question of when is only a matter of time.
How is it we let the lies of satan creep in durning our highest of highs and allow him to take us back down to our lowest of lows? Surely God wants me to conquer my health and my happiness once and for all. He wants me to be filled with energy and good will. He wants what I've accomplished last week to still be a prized accomplishment in a year... two years... ultimately to the end of my days.
And yet, I sit here, at a time when I should be shouting my praise, filled with pride, and laughing in the face of the enemy, because I have achieved something. But today I am not. Today I have allowed the wallowing and failures of my past to overshadow the outlook of my future.
I've not lost the battle yet. I've not gained the weight back yet. I am not a repeat failure yet. I've not given up yet. But I feel the force of the enemy wanting me to... pushing me, upsetting me, whispering his lies and unrest deep within the vulnerable recesses of my insecurities.
He does not want us to be strong, he does not want us to succeed. He does not want us to have hope in tomorrow.
Perhaps it's time to finally clip off those price tags and wear those new clothes. I admit, I have worn a few, but the majority are still nicely stacked in the floor of my closet, resting on top of the aqua bag I brought them home in, the return option still available. It's time to bring up the boxes and start the closet cleaning and swapping process.
It's time to start trying to figure out how to continue forward in this moment, continue onward in this journey. It's time to figure out how to step into the tricky and slippery slope of weight loss maintenance.
It's time to stop worrying about tomorrow, stop remembering the failures of yesterday, and live life as I have it already within my hands today.
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