2 steps forward, 30 steps back

14 Apr

So, I stepped on the scale for the first time in a few months last night. I didn’t know it was possible to gain 15lbs in less than 3 months? Did you? Because it is! I guess the combination of quitting my second job at the book store and eating like there was no tomorrow works out to lots and lots of new pounds.

I kind of figured because nothing I own fits me and I really just don’t even want to get out of bed these days. And thanks to my glorious weight loss of yore, it’s actually *more* painful because I have a very clear memory of trying on clothes and having them not fit because they were *too big* and how wonderful that felt. It should be a movivator, right? Remember how good that felt? But it isn’t. It just makes me feel like a giant failure.

On the one hand, I have a fuzzy memory of the actual eating better not being that difficult once I got into it. But I also remember the energy it took to get to that point and I ain’t got it! Just thinking about it makes me want to cry. And then there is the whole getting cocky thing, thinking I could binge a bit because I was homes visting or I had a bad day or the sun fucking rose today!

I feel like I am chanting tomorrow, I will! TOMORROW! and tomorrow is like this very vague concept that I can’t quite grasp and, gosh, those hashbrowns look really good. Maybe I’ll just be fat and miserable forever! I’m so good at it, you know? I excel. I am the CHAMPION! Give me a trophy or something because ain’t no one gonna to take my crown.

Not exactly something to be proud of but it’s all I’ve got right now, unfortunately.


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