I'm just your average, everyday, divorced 38 year old girl -- overweight, tragically unhip,
and trying to make a life for myself. I live with two furry beasts, Dave and Abby, whose
feline mission in life is to choke me with their fur. Nothing special.
Thursday afternoon. Does anyone still remember when this was, primarily, a weight loss journal? Yea, me neither.
I stepped on the scales this morning and - lo and behold! - my complete lack of activity as regards being healthy has produced some great results: I now weight 260 pounds. That's only two pounds short of my all-time highest ever weight and 10 pounds more than a few weeks ago when I swore I was going to do something about this. The problem is (or one of the problems is) that depression makes me want to isolate myself and the last thing I want to do is have to pick up the phone (it seems to weigh a ton when I'm really down) to call and make an appointment with the therapist (which involves all of those ugly logistics). The second-to-last thing I want to do is walk into an 8am Saturday class full of people and try to do Yoga, Pilates, or NIA with them. I'm so fat right now that bending and twisting are a real chore. (I'm not going into details, but it's affecting my relationship with TCB, and that's not good.)
The worst part, though, isn't the day-to-day physical challenges of finding clothes that fit or bending over to pick things up when I drop them, it's the horrible way my body feels - especially in the morning and just before bed. I'm not sleeping well, I'm exhausted from hauling 120 extra pounds around on my 5'3" frame, and my body's just sick (literally) of the junk food with its accompanying lack of nutrition.
But wait, there's more! Emotionally, I cannot even express to you the way that I'm feeling about myself right now. It's odd, too, because I'm still able to separate the eating behavior from the rest of my life, so I'm not into complete self-loathing, but it's still just so painful. Why don't I just stop eating? Why don't I eat smaller portions? Why don't I exercise...even just a little??? What am I waiting for??? Heart attack? Stroke? Blindness? Renal failure???
I have this fabulous life, full of so much great stuff that it blows me away, and yet that's not enough to make me put my health ahead of stupid oral gratification? For TCB's sake, for Alcott's sake, for my parents' sake, for my friends' sake, for the love of my work...why won't I do this???
