Here we go again
I felt it coming on. That feeling of sadness. Frustration. Anger. I knew it was coming and I *think* I tried to stop it but eventually it washed over me.
That feeling that no matter what I do, it doesn’t matter.
That feeling that no matter how much I think of other good, positive things, the number on the scale eventually makes it’s way into the “importance” section of my brain.
Of course I’ve only given my all for what, a little over a week? Sure, it takes time. I have to be consistent. There’s no way I can judge how things are going if I’m not consistent, right?
But isn’t that what the last two years have been? Or not?
What am I doing wrong?
How many times can I try something different?
How many times can I try something new?
How many times can I switch things up a bit?
I have followed the advise of two dietitians, tried Weight Watchers (again), calorie counted, ditched carbs, added only complex carbs back, changed how and when I eat, used smaller dishes, drank more water, less coffee, less dairy. I even took some supplement that was supposed to keep me from getting hungry (and a friend of mine has something else for me to try from Herbal Life) and that did f*ckall. The only thing I haven’t tried are particular strict diets (though was more than willing to try Dukan, just didn’t want to shell out the money for the book) or juice fasts.
Honestly. What do I have to do?
Yesterday Hubs said to me “2 more years of this and then you are going to start living”. I thought, “my G*d! If I have to go two more years LIKE THIS I definitely will go off the deep end!” I challenged him and asked him why he assumed I wasn’t “living” now. Basically he said because it makes me so unhappy. He’s right.
Maybe I need to start living again now. Why should I wait until I’m 45? What sort of age is that? Why don’t I deserve to live now?
I just have no idea how to stop thinking about it ALL THE TIME. It’s consuming. It really does become an obsession after so long. I don’t recall ever feeling this frustrated when I was actually losing weight. That’s probably because when you see results on the scale (you can try as much as you want to “not care” what the scale says) it propels you further, it gives you the strength and motivation to keep going.
I understand and have experienced maintenance before and I know this is exactly what it’s like to be in that phase. Problem is, I’m in that phase when actually the number needs to go down a bit more.
It’s not the magic number. I think I may have mentioned several times before –I don’t want to be “skinny”. I don’t even need to be the weight that the charts tell me I should be. I know how I FEEL at 70-72 KG and I felt good then. Fit, healthy, not blobby or uncomfortable. Things were more in place. Tighter. It’s not just a number you see? It’s the feeling.
Yesterday I did what I always end up doing. I just thought “screw this” and had a chocolate muffin. Then later I had a biscuit. Then later I was in Starbucks, waiting for my train home and I thought “yeah I’m just going to shove a caramel brownie down my neck since it doesn’t really matter.” I got a coffee and a chocolate coin instead. It didn’t make me feel better (same result as always).
So. Here we go again. Another attempt at another day in another year at the same place I was before.