When you aren't even trying.
I guess it isn't really a fair thing to say I've gone nowhere in my weight loss, because I've certainly gone somewhere, with somewhere actually meaning backwards, all the way to the goddamn starting line and then some. So I was pretty amazing back when I had lost 40-whatever pounds and was in the 220s. I was so, so proud in January when I was still barely clinging to that decade by a thread. Then something happened, also known as me not caring.
So now it's October and I weighed 268 pounds yesterday. That would be an extra two pounds on my previous starting weight, thankyouverymuch. I realize the situation could be much, much worse. I'm thankful, I suppose, that it isn't more than two extra pounds. But the reality is that I still gained all 40-whatever pounds I had lost back, and I have to face the dreaded habit changing all over again. All of the not wanting to exercise and wanting to eat all of the things is right in front of me, a wall that seems exhausting just to look at. But I have to start climbing if I'm ever going to reach the other side, even if "the other side" in this case means just getting back to the 220's. I miss that weight. I was looking pretty damn good if I do say so myself.
Right now I don't really care much about my end goal. I'll worry about that when I get there. For now I just want to set my sights on 200 pounds. For me, that is a pretty phenomenal place. It's a wonderful thing, sometimes, to be tall. If and when i get there, I will make decisions about how far past that I want to be. Maybe I'll even just focus on maintaining that place for a few months before I plunge deeper. I can't really say for sure right now, all I can really say is that I have to do something so I can stop feeling like such a failure for all of the work that I've undone.
Yesterday was by far one of the worst days I think I've ever had, and the majority of that can be attributed to my weight. I braved the scale when I got out of bed and it was all downhill from there. I was talking about it with Brandon, wonder boyfriend. Talking about what happened to my old efforts and why I sometimes feel like it's just not even worth it to try. Somewhere in there he decided that while I was already in a pretty shit mood, he may as well get it off his chest that even he is bothered by my weight.
I can't really explain the way that this hurt me, not well enough for it to really amount to what I was feeling right in that moment. It hurt my heart to know that someone that I love so deeply felt that way about me, or about my weight. I actually felt a little bit betrayed, and by a little bit I mean it felt like a bus colliding with me. Suddenly there was this uncontrollable need to fidget, and I felt like I suddenly had to be self conscious around him. This is not what I have ever wanted, not by a long shot.
I know that Brandon loves me. This much I do not doubt. I'm sure there are people who would have reacted much more violently to his confession than I myself did. Maybe it's because I was so shocked, but I don't really know. As much as it hurt me, I'm oddly glad that he was able to say something to me. I don't want him to have to harbor thoughts like that without being able to express them, no matter how much it might have hurt to hear it spoken out loud. And in reality, this is just another rather important piece of the puzzle that forces me to realize that eating everything in sight is(surprise!) not working for me at all. Things have to change.
But goddamn, change is hard.
