Onederland

November 27, 2001
It's a good thing I can write, because I can't talk. My throat is tight, tears prick at my eyes. My heart....well, what can I say about my heart that adequately reflects how I feel? Even now, almost one day later I'm so emotional that tears threaten to fall.
I made it! I'm in Onederland!
For the first time since I can remember I am below 200 pounds. That's right - 198.2 lbs. which means that I have lost 53.6 pounds since July 9. Along with that I have shed four to six clothes sizes. I am wearing normal sized clothing. No more Plus sizes for me! No more cutesy names for fat women's clothing!
I shake my head and run to the bathroom. Quietly I close the door so as to not attract attention. Then I play a little game - I look down at the floor until I get to the mirror, then I quickly raise my eyes, trying to surprise the person in the mirror - trying to see her in the light that others see her in. This Weight Loss Queen - the Decader! The Onederlander!
These huge frightened eyes peer back at me - I can see right into her soul. She's afraid, and happy, and sad, and elated, and confused. Mostly though, I think she's scared.
But scared of what?
You've got it licked kiddo! Downward slide! Let's get a move on! Let's do it. Only another 50 pounds or so to go! Quit wasting time! Drink that water, journal those points, get your butt on the treadmill!
Then that voice I have come to hate so much whispers quietly.
"Remember what happened last time Karen?" it asks with a little snicker.
"What?" I ask defiantly, even though deep down I know the answer.
"You got cocky kiddo!" it mocks me.
I shudder, afraid to feel the joy. Afraid to move. Easy come, easy go!
I'm afraid to move, afraid to breathe. The voice has effectively cheated me out of my rightful celebration.
"Did whimping out get you to Onederland?" a voice asks.
"No!" I answer angrily.
"Then what are you doing right now," the voice asks.
"Whimping out," I answer meekly.
"Ahhhhh. That's right," the voice says.
I stand still, waiting for more.
I wait.
And wait.
And wait.
But nothing! The voice has silenced. I cock my head waiting for the whisper, but it never comes.
How curious!
Then it strikes me - that last part of the conversation was me! Not "the voice"!
I smile. With that smile tears begin to flow.
They aren't whimping out tears, however. They're cleansing tears. Just as I've shed the last 53 pounds, so do I shed the voice and the years of insecurity. That voice that has always told me I couldn't do it, that I didn't count, that voice of self-disgust and fear has gone to fat hell where it belongs - may they live happily ever after.
I square my shoulders, run back in the bathroom and look directly in the mirror.
The eyes that look back at me are those of a woman who is fighting a daily battle. A battle for her life and her soul. A battle to the end. The battle of a lifetime.
She looks strong and confident.
I smile at her. She smiles back and says, "Bring it on! Let's do this!"
Here I come! Goal is within my grasp.