Maybe you're not like me and the aforementioned as well as the unmentioned (infertility) is worse than being fat…this may not be the blog for you. I plan on irreverently, humorously and sarcastically sharing my weight loss journey as I run full speed (hopefully reaching my target heart rate) at the wall that is PCOS…But, before you go, take note: I did use the words "sharing" and "journey"…I can't be that bad.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

The Chronicles of Schmarnia: My Imaginary Closet

"Um, I have cellulite and stretch marks and that pretty much overrides being tiny…even when I somehow overcome the evil forces of PCOS and lose all the weight…I am still not going to prance around in a bikini.  Stretch marks are like nipples…they are private parts, I don't plan on sharing them with the world and I don't hold with high regard a gal who does. The majority of my irreversible damage exists between my knees and hips so I need to plan for fashion that will camo this danger zone."

Black Little Number...










Friday, September 17, 2010

The Chronicles of Schmarnia: My Imaginary Closet

"Um, I have cellulite and stretch marks and that pretty much overrides being tiny…even when I somehow overcome the evil forces of PCOS and lose all the weight…I am still not going to prance around in a bikini.  Stretch marks are like nipples…they are private parts, I don't plan on sharing them with the world and I don't hold with high regard a gal who does. The majority of my irreversible damage exists between my knees and hips so I need to plan for fashion that will camo this danger zone."


BLAH BLAH blasé


























Tuesday, September 14, 2010

The stats…AKA the cold hard truth…

Age  31
Height 5'6"
Starting Weight  183 lbs
Today's Weight 181.0 lbs
Since last weigh-in -0.4 lbs
Total since first weigh in -2.0 lbs
What the BMI chart has the nerve to say about me today 29.2=Obese

I usually don't post the "Cold Hard Truth" 2 days in a row, maybe just to keep up the facade that I am not slightly obsessed and that I don't weigh myself everyday. I just wanted to report that I am back on the losing side (that being a positive thing since this is in reference to weight loss) and within one day of being home from the hospital (my one year old daughter had surgery last Thursday) I feel a big difference...of course I have more control over my food options and I am a lot more active. It sort of stinks because I was hoping to show that my journey was possible anywhere even in the least likely of circumstances, but I really just didn't feel like it and the scale reflected that yesterday (my first day out of the hospital). 

Here is the other cold hard truth, I do weigh myself everyday, when I have access to my own scale. Sure most experts will recommend that you don't for several reasons, but as we've discussed a few times already...when you have PCOS you are the exception. Weekly weigh-ins don't work for me personally, because with PCOS my weight fluctuates dramatically. I can gain 10 lbs in a week, not just water weight either, weight that will take 2 months of hard work to lose. I have to weigh myself daily to keep tabs on my body and look for patterns in regards to certain food and fast weight gain.

My rules for weighing in to get the most accurate weight. First thing in the morning, after using the restroom and before eating or drinking anything...must be NAKEY NAKEY and use the same scale. Also before your shower, wet hair will add weight.

My daughter is doing really well by the way...she had a stent placed in her right ureter which causes painful bladder spasms. Hopefully these are temporary and will end soon. We are feeling super optimistic about this surgery and the best part...she had the hated nephrostomy tube removed from her back!!!

Monday, September 13, 2010

The stats…AKA the cold hard truth…

Age  31
Height 5'6"
Starting Weight  183 lbs
Today"s Weight 181.4 lbs
Since last weigh-in + 1.2 lbs
Total since first weigh in -1.6 lbs
What the BMI chart has the nerve to say about me today 29.3=Obese

This is my first weigh in after being home from the hospital...the good news is, we are home. I gained 1.2 lbs in 4 days while in the hospital with Normandy.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Sure I Have Good Reason, But Not If It Ends Up Becoming An Excuse.

I have 2 daughters, just 13 months apart in age, a 2 year old and a 1year old…I'm tired.  I am writing today from a pediatric surgery waiting room. My youngest is having major surgery today. She isn't quite 16 months old and this isn't her first surgery and it probably won't be her last.

I know my blog seems pretty self-indulgent and even more self-deprecating, but keep in mind it is my only outlet. My daughters don't know that weight is an issue for anyone let alone their mommy. They don't know that I "un-tag" myself as soon as I see unflattering pictures surface on Facebook…right before I do a dance unto the god of ex-boyfriends and high school "frenemies" praying that none of the above saw them. I get all the junk out here in cyber-world so that in my home I can be their beautiful healthy strong mama…I am not saying I fake who I am to them…I am a healthy beautiful woman, it just takes a lot of strength to be that kind of example and here on this blog I get to take a break and get things out. In the real world, I promise I am not letting my girls run rampant while I stand crying on my scale in my elastic waisted pants asking my 2 year old, why doesn't your father get me? In the real world I am chasing them down the beach, feeding them healthy snacks, teaching them how to perfectly deliver a punch line and how to count in Deutsch…eat that Dora. 

My youngest daughter was born with bi-lateral grade 5 hydronephrosis…basically she has kidney reflux, meaning that rather than draining out through her bladder, her urine goes back up into her kidneys due to a blockage in her ureters (the little hoses connecting the kidneys to the bladder). Most kids with Hydronephrosis have a lesser grade on only one side and will grow out of it naturally by one year of age. She has the highest grade on both sides with no end in sight. Her ureters are not just blocked, but they are severely kinked and twisted. We recently learned that her right kidney had not been draining at all so they placed a nephrostomy tube into her right kidney coming directly out of her back draining into a bag that we keep belted around her waist.

 I am here with her at the children's hospital every 2-3 weeks to treat severe kidney infections. The hospital is about 3 hours away from our home and we are usually here for about a week at a time. When we are here we are typically apart from my husband and my two year old. My sleep is lacking during that time and I usually don't get to leave her hospital room for more than 15 minutes a day. She has been on antibiotics daily since the day she was born to prevent kidney damaging UTI's and I think she is no longer sensitive to most antibiotics so they rarely do much to prevent infection anymore. 

The frequent hospital stays started back in February…I was 150 lbs then…by May I had gained 33 lbs and have floundered between 177 and 183. During this time I've also gotten my first cyst in probably 5 or 6 years and my periods started becoming irregular. In addition to a new sedentary, stressful hospital life, I am definitely battling PCOS again. 

Prior to this I hadn't had a cyst since I was 25, because I had found the right birth control pill (Yaz), lost a lot of weight, then I was either pregnant or breastfeeding. Oddly enough it seams that my hormones are happiest and my weight is the easiest to control when I am breastfeeding…I only gained 25 lbs with my first pregnancy and lost it in 20 days…let me say that again, in fact let me yell it this time…I LOST ALL OF MY BABY WEIGHT IN 20 DAYS!!! Then in the next 40 days I lost an additional 14 lbs…I hadn't seen that weight on a scale in a whole decade! This was just in time for my wedding day. We were married only 2 months after our first daughter was born and I felt fabulous!

It feels like I spend a lot of time feeling discouraged and no time taking care of myself these days. I have to find a way. I have to find opportunities and I have to remember to take them. It's funny, a big theme in my blog is to not compare myself to others who I believe have it easier…I also need to stop comparing my current circumstances to the events surrounding my previous weight loss…Maybe a bigger theme in my blog needs to be that nothing is impossible for ME…present day, 31 year old, busy hospital-mom…ME!

OH, I almost forgot…I know my thoughts are all over the place, but I don't know how else to get it all out, so track with me…I had a eureka moment this morning and I must share! My daughter needed to have some blood work done before surgery this morning. I was holding her down assisting the man sticking her with needles as I have countless times before. She screamed and looked at me with questioning eyes as I spoke to her in a loving tone with a broken heart knowing full well it would be years before I could explain and reason with her as to why she had to go through these things…that I was holding her and forcing her to experience this pain because I loved her…because hopefully it was fixing her. Though it is hard for me to type this without welling up, this was not the Eureka moment…I have often thought of this and have drawn a parallel to God's love for me and why I've had to experience certain things. Here is what I realized today, the second it was over she reached out for me…she called out for me. I was able to soothe her almost instantly, she hadn't lost any trust in me. She was ready to move on and not waste any time dwelling…it was like she knew she needed to make the most of it before the next nurse or doctor walked in the room and as long as I was in reach everything was fine. I haven't suffered half as much as this baby in my 31 years…why am I not as resilient? Why do I float from one disaster to the next…why don't I make the most of the time between even if it is only a few minutes? Why don't I trust myself as much as she trusts me...why don't I love myself as much?

High School (duh)
Even though I got my first cyst at age 15,
I didn't have issues with my weight until after graduation.

I rapidly gained almost 90 lbs in less then 2 years
reaching an all time high of 209 lbs.
I battled my weight for almost 8 years,
infertile the entire time.
This picture was taken less then a year later. I lost 53 lbs 
in less then 5 months.
I believe it was a combination 
of Yaz birth control pills,
intense cardio workouts 
and a low calorie diet. 


Though not intentional I became pregnant
the first month off the pill.
5 days before giving birth
I weighed less than I do today.
  


I lost all of my baby weight in 20 days.
breastfeeding does your baby and your body good!

I lost an additional 13 lbs in time for my wedding day...
less then 2 months after delivering my first daughter.


This was me at 150 lbs
7 months ago with my youngest daughter.
Taken this past weekend
33 lbs heavier, battling PCOS once again.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

The stats…AKA the cold hard truth…

Age  31
Height 5'6"
Starting Weight  183 lbs
Today"s Weight 180.2 lbs
Since last weigh-in + 1.0 lbs
Total since first weigh in -2.8 lbs
What the BMI chart has the nerve to say about me today 29.1=Obese

I think my blog should be renamed...With the Exception of Labor Day Weekend...Fail. 

I had Chinese food (fried breaded meats, fried egg rolls, wontons, sugary sauces) Mexican Food (chip, chips and more chips) and Ice cream (mmmmm)...I only ate when I was hungry, stopped when I was satisfied, shared meals/treats with my family and we were super active...BUT...this is my body we're talking about, I know including non-healthy carbs in my diet is a sure way to perform sluggishly and gain weight. Today is a new day with no mistakes in it and so far so good! 

Sunday, September 5, 2010

The Time Line...BC..."Before Conception"

5th grade...Began to develop a certain resentment toward my mother for not letting me shave my legs, though it was time. In my earliest act of rebellion I used my mother's razor then proceeded to cover my legs in her Revlon Liquid Foundation to appear as hairless and tan as Jill Miller, the most popular girl in fifth grade. I went on a class field trip to an amusement park and received a just punishment when the water attractions turned my white Keds the color of my mom's made-up face.

Age 11...Started my period at science camp. I hid it from every living soul, especially my mother for an entire year knowing full well she would announce the horrifying news to relatives.

A year later...Weary of stealing supplies from my mom, I made the announcement to her pretending it was happening for the first time. She told me I was a woman now and took me to a restaurant called The Good Earth then proceeded to share personal stories that I was uncomfortable hearing. I had the Chicken Cashew Salad.

7th grade...Boys were finally taller than me. A weird patch of eczema below my left nostril finally cleared up. I figured out there were much better methods of styling my naturally curly fro than cutting it as short as possible. Exclamation Perfume, teal eyeliner, a scrunchie on my wrist and silver hoop earrings evoked a newfound confidence.

That same year...shared an embarrassing first kiss with a boy through a chain link fence. I knew as much to close my eyes then I puckered up. He however approached the situation with mouth wide open and tongue out. He cut my chin with his braces.

Even later that same year...I was suspended for making out with the same boy. Practice (due to low self esteem and lack of healthy father-figure) makes perfect! The principal at my Christian private school explained that I was cheating on my future husband and that if I kept it up Mr. Future Husband would always be secretly disappointed in what little I reserved for him and would think of nothing else every time we kissed. This boy remained a friend through high school…I was his Winnie Cooper and he was my Kevin Arnold.

Age 15...First cyst was diagnosed…read The Exception for all the sorted details.

Age 17...Did what I promised I would never do, then he promptly cheated on me. My youth pastor was right, broken hymen before marriage=broken heart. 

Senior Year...Went on independent studies so that I could get a full time job, before my father's child support would end on my 18th birthday. Graduated 6 months early and began a lucrative career as a cashier at a Rite Aid drugstore.

Age 19...Married my manager at Rite Aid…eeew not a creepy old man or anything…he was a 21 year old college student and up until that point in my life the most mild mannered and responsible person I had ever met under the age of 67. He thoroughly enjoyed taking care of me and assisting me in the great escape from my family. After I failed to find a birth control pill that didn't make me sick, I wouldn't use any form of birth control for the next 7 years and would never conceive...I didn't want to conceive. 

Age 21...Reached an all time high weight of 209lbs…I gained almost 90lbs in less than 2 years. All of my attempts to lose weight failed…I felt as if something else was suddenly in control of my body. My husband began working as a civil engineer and we were the first of our friend's to buy a home…As I became swallowed up by suburbia I was never interested in keeping up with the Joneses. As others my age were off at college I became obsessed with being the Joneses. I began to avoid all interactions with my family and lost touch with everyone who might compare me to the thin captain of the cheerleading squad/homecoming princess I was only a few years earlier. 

Age 23...Moved to Boise, built a beautiful home sharing a neighborhood with people twice my age. The boredom, discontentment and depression began to set in.

Age 24...Hired a personal trainer. I worked out with a trainer 5 days a week for 6 months and gained 6 pounds...I love it when you gain weight from working out with the intension of weight loss and people try to encourage you by saying things like..."muscle weighs more that fat". That sounds neat but, where the hell is this muscle...hiding under all the fat that still remains? I wasn't wearing a size 16 because I was buff.  

Age 25...ten years after my first cyst a doctor finally diagnosed me with polycystic ovarian syndrome. She showed me the connection between PCOS, rapid weight gain and infertility.

Age 26...I woke up one morning with a deep desire to change everything about my life. I was completely unsatisfied with everything in my world. I convinced myself I had been robbed, I had missed out. The truth was that I was selfish and giving up didn't feeling like giving up…it felt daring and exciting. My doctor told me about a new pill, Yaz, that would especially help a woman with PCOS. Within 2 months of taking my first pill the cysts stopped and for the first time in my life I got one 3-4 day period at the same time every month. I felt as if I was beginning to gain back control over my body. To escape a marriage that felt like the biggest anchor attached to a life I was beginning to hate, I would go on 2 hour walks sometimes twice a day. My days consisted of walking, working, sleeping. When I would walk I would imagine a different life, with different people, different men. When I started walking I was 209lbs and it was painful to carry, but in addition to birth control I was only leaving time for simple low calorie snacks when I needed them...after a slow first month and a half I began losing weight at an astonishing 0.5lbs a day. As the weight came off my exercise regime became more intense and more addictive. In the midst of all of this I separated then quickly divorced my husband while burning every bridge in my life. My attempt to start over began a life full of distractions from loneliness. My days consisted of intense workouts, working at a job I cared nothing about, maintaining shallow meaningless connections via social networking and texting, then bar hopping alone. That year my only Christmas card was from Boise City Taxi. 

Age 27...Got a job with the Department of Defense working at a military rec center...we're not talking about ping pong tables in a converted warehouse...this was a 5 star ski resort in the Bavarian Alps. I worked and dormed with about 300 other young adventurous Americans...most of them younger than me, all escaping from something, all looking the other way, because they didn't want to ever be asked to stop their own bad behavior. I began seeing a much younger bellman at the resort...It seemed like the perfect thing to do at this point of my quarter-life crisis, almost cliche really. We had many adventures, broke up, 3 days later I found out I was pregnant.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

The stats…AKA the cold hard truth…

Age  31
Height 5'6"
Starting Weight 183 lbs
Current Weight  179.2 lbs
Total -3.8 lbs
What the BMI chart has the nerve to say about me today 28.9=Obese

I just started my second month of Ocella (Yaz Generic) Birth Control pills. I know it is different for every women with PCOS, but I believe Yaz really helped me lose weight the last time (53 lbs) and was key in my pregnancy...birth control helping in pregnancy, I know that doesn't sound right and trust me it wasn't intentional.

I don't know exactly how Yaz works and why it is more beneficial to a woman with PCOS than other pills, so if you need those kind of details, you'll have to do some research on your own. I believe it helps regulate the excess testosterone that we soul-cystas have in our system and I know testosterone plays a big role in getting cysts and in insulin resistance which are the two key players in excessive weight gain and infertility. Don't get me wrong, the last time I took Yaz I was also exercising EVERYDAY and eating between 1,000 and 1,200 calories a day...sometimes less, but these measures don't typically work on their own, so I've got to assume it was the Yaz...but I also have to assume that Yaz won't work on its own either...nothing is that easy.

During that time I had also separated and quickly divorced from my first husband, I have heard many people refer to the "divorce diet". Have you ever seen someone who is going through a divorce and it seems like the weight just sort of falls off due to some weird magical non-cortisol producing stress? Please don't despair and don't go divorcing your sweetie-pies...remember they love you even though you're moody, fat and barren...stand by your man. And seriously we have PCOS...if there really is something to the phenomena that is the divorce diet...it wouldn't apply to us, because nothing works that simply for women with PCOS. I am going to prove that divorce was a coincidence the last go round...I promise to stay married while getting skinny this time.

For those of you who carry extra weight and are struggling with infertility I am sure you have been told weight loss can help dramatically...so clearly losing 53 lbs in a fairly short amount of time was a major reason why I got pregnant. I also believe regulating my cycles and stopping cysts helped. Up until I took Yaz, every month during the time I should have been ovulating I would get cysts...EVERY MONTH SINCE I WAS 15 and I had never had a regular period since my first one at age 11. I definitely felt the change in my body from the first pack of pills. I don't remember how long I took yaz before I got pregnant I am guessing about a year and a half and then I GOT PREGNANT THE FIRST MONTH I WAS OFF OF THE PILL! That would be difficult for a woman who doesn't have issues with fertility, but my body was happy...not only had I lost a lot of weight in a short amount of time, I probably ovulated for the first time in my entire life and I had a 21 year old boyfriend who was a real go-getter, so there you go.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Maybe not the worst thing that ever happened.

The ocean may be changing my mind. The ocean doesn't care that my bikini bottoms are actually jeans rolled up to my  calf. The ocean must really fancy me...otherwise she wouldn't try to look so beautiful every time I pay her a visit. I love her too.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

The Exception.

Through elementary school and junior high I attended Christian private school which left me equally confused and freaked out by my body. I started public school my freshman year of high school. On my first day of 9th grade English class a substitute teacher in casual conversation said, "Ladies it is your privilege to explore your body and I encourage you to stand over a mirror and take a good look at your vagina." Sure there was a string of topics that led us to this point, though I can recall none of them. And why did I have a substitute on the first day of school anyway? And why weren't we answering the age old question, "conjunction-junction, what is your function?" WHO CARES…never in my life had it even been implied that I actually had a vagina in mixed company and suddenly half of the freshmen football team is picturing me balancing naked over a Covergirl matte ivory pressed powder compact squinting for a better look. I was suddenly aware that my body bestowed wondrous capabilities, some of them possessing great power over the acne ridden, Drakkar Noir stinkin opposite sex, but through my formative years I grew to be ashamed and fearful of it all.

I don't remember a time when I wasn't terrified of being the exception and not in an exceptional way. In the last week of kindergarten they brought us into the first grade room to meet the teacher and sit in desks that were arranged in lines facing the chalkboard for the purpose of a more focused learning. Above the chalkboard was the alphabet, both upper and lowercase letters, with a picture that began with that letter…we're not talking mind blowing educational tools here, but that of which you would see in any first grade classroom in America. The teacher excitedly announced that in the first grade we would be learning to read and write and it wouldn't be long before we could read books without help…everyone around me was estatic, suddenly first grade was the place to be…immediately rumors began to circulate that Bryan Johnson's nanny already taught him to read and spell his name in cursive…the room began to spin and I grew nauseous…what the hell was cursive anyway? I spent the entire summer dreading the first grade, because I just knew I would be the one kid that wouldn't pick it up and in fact I was positive that all the other kids would be writing their names in this mysterious "cursive" by the time summer break was over. I watched a Phil Donahue at my grandma's house about illiterate business men who faked their way to success…this gave me some hope, but the lies seemed very hard to keep up with and I wanted to grow up to be Alyssa Milano not a business man. From that point pretty much every right of passage and every adolescent unknown became a source of sheer terror, because I would be the exception. My brother calls me the "lazy perfectionist"…he says that I don't do anything that I know I won't be perfect at, therefore I don't do anything…It's not so much that I am lazy as much as it is that I am occupied elsewhere hyperventilating into a paper bag.

My number one fear in public high school…sexual organs. In private Christian school they warned us of what went on in public school. According to what I had been informed (possibly my first experience with right wing propaganda) my new peer group had been listening to "secular" music from a very young age with lyrics such as, "do me baby", as well as putting condoms on bananas and hanging out with gay people pre Will & Grace…these people were going to attend colleges with coed dorms! They had all looked at their vagina's in mirrors and I wouldn't even wear a tampon for fear of what it might rob my husband of on my wedding night….SIDE NOTE: another major adolescent fear…farting on my wedding night. I quickly learned to avoid any extracurricular activity which required a physical exam, because I knew a doctor would want to explore my vagina with a popsicle stick. I knew he would find something horribly wrong with it and I knew my mother would be close by to receive a full report. Either I would be the one person ever that contracted some shameful vagina ailment for telling a lie in 3rd grade or I would have some sort of embarrassing deformity and my mom would surely announce it at family prayer circle and add me to every prayer chain in northern California.

One day when I was 15 I began feeling a horrible pain in my side…it quickly grew more and more intense until every time I took a step it felt as if I was being stabbed with a tiny knife in my lower abdomen. My mom rushed me to the ER assuming it was my appendix. The doctor who treated me looked like less of a doctor and more like a grandpa…make that a great grandpa. As he poked around at my belly I quickly assessed that he was not quite living based on the frigid temperature of his fingers and he quickly assessed that I did not have an appendicitis. Without any warning he announced to my mother, "I need to do a pelvic exam" and my mom agreed. Whaaaaa-wait….pelvic? Like pelvis? As in the same body part that gave Elvis a sexually charged seedy reputation? It was clear to my mother that I was terrified. As I stepped behind the curtain to drop my pants in private maintaining a false modesty as if he wasn't about to join me with that popsicle stick, my mother began to comfort me in, um, "her way". I wasn't just raised in the church, I was raised in the charismatic-pentacostal-ish church…my mom's way of comforting me wasn't to actually comfort me, but to go to the Holy Spirit on my behalf in her "prayer language". Other moms might offer practical non supernatural advice while holding their child's hand…my mom however would speak in tongues and authoritatively cast out demonic spirits in situations that were already stressful, scary and awkward in their own right. I soon learned that Doctor Father Time opted to use his frigid zombie fingers instead of the popsicle stick which no longer seemed so scary. My mother was now thanking God for the peace filling the exam room, while I innately clenched every muscle in my Holy of Hollies. After several stern requests from Doctor Crypt Keeper to relax, he finally gave up and opted for the back door…In the last 16 years since I had this exam I have been plenty educated and I still don't know how he found what he found using that route. Suddenly the feeling that I was about to poop in front of another human being while my mom sang the second verse of Then Sings My Soul ended and as fast as I heard the latex glove snap off of his frozen toquito-esque fingers, he announced, "she has a large cyst on her ovary". He suggested that I take birth control pills to prevent any future cysts all together, but in my world it was a fact that the instant I popped the first baby-squelching pill my eternal life would certainly hang in the balance as I stumbled down a road of heavy petting with Johnny Football Player. Instead I began an ineffective regime of missing school once a month and taking obscene amounts of Ibuprofen. In the years to come I silently coped with 20 day long periods and unbearable menstrual cramps fearful of what I believed would be an embarrassing diagnosis that didn't have a cure anyway.

In an overdramatic effort to run away from home I got married at age 19. A month before my wedding I got a prescription for Birth Control Pills…I certainly flashed my engagement ring about as if it were my permission slip to have them. Even after all that I had gone through the pill was not to treat the cysts, but was an actual form of birth control…the thought of being a mother was as scary as learning to read…it felt as if all the other married girls wanted it, were capable and would succeed and I just knew when it came to being a good mom…I would be the exception. The pills made me extremely nauseous and added to my already rapid weight gain, which was becoming a problem for the first time in my life…I gained 60 lbs within the first 6 months of my marriage and 30 more by my 21st birthday. I tried 3 different types of pills and gave up…little did I know at that point there was no need to control birth…I was infertile. After my first attempt with the pill, in 7 years of marriage we didn't use any form of birth control and I never got pregnant.

The OBGYN appointments became less scary as they became more frequent. It is amazing that through countless examinations, paps and cyst sonograms it was 10 years before I heard terms like "polycystic ovarian syndrome" and "insulin resistance"…I was told cysts were common and that I needed to cut back on coffee and chocolate and that my uncontrollable weight was due to lack of self discipline….turns out it wasn't that simple…turns out I was the exception.