(Insert Witty Subject Line Here)

I am too frustrated to think of an awesome subject name for this post.

I shouldn't say frustrated. I think a more appropriate word would be disappointed. Last week I was up to 12.5 pounds (or should I say down?). But this week nothing. Nada. Zip. I'm exactly the same. Now, I know what everyone will say. "At least you didn't gain anything." I know. I know. But even the most optimistic of people have to admit that it just sucks.

The whole situation is also annoying because even though the scale is showing a loss, your mind does not see it. The only other noticeable sign that I lost 12 pounds is one pair of shoes fit much better. So the weight comes out of my feet? Are you freaking kidding me? It's weeks like this that make me crazy! I like to think I have an abundance of patience but this is really hard.

I'm not sure what exactly happened this week. I thought I was on track, maybe I wasn't? However, I'm going to try something new. Instead of freaking out and brooding about what I did wrong, I am just going to start fresh. I think my Mom said it best. "Don't get discouraged because that's when things start to go wrong." It's not easy trying to rise above this crap but no matter what happens I'm still heading in the right direction.
 
Other than having lighter feet, I've been at my new job for almost a month. How fast did that go? This job came at the right time. So far this year, four babies are on the way and my best friend got engaged! It seems that everyone is having a life changing year. People keep asking me when we're going to have a baby. I'd like to get a nice figure before I lose it!

A Reason.

I can officially say that I lost 10 pounds. 10 hard earned pounds. It took four weeks but I reached a small milestone.

I am really happy to have lost 10. That would be 2.5 pounds a week without joining a gym, exercising at home and following weight watchers. Some moments I am so happy and so proud that I can't stop smiling. I know that if I really focus and step up the exercise maybe I can surprise myself. Maybe I can double that number in another four weeks. There are some people who can't do that. I am one of the people who can.

But then comes that ever so charming negative part of my personality. After a while I thought, "Well, maybe that is not good enough." When I think about how long I have to go, 10 pounds seemed like nothing. I really want to kick that damn train of thought. I want to be different. I crave the person I will become in the future. I imagine that girl who is thinner, confident, pretty and healthier. I want to be her so badly that I almost want to push myself too hard. I'm noticing that I always push myself too hard so that it is easier to give up. How do I fix that? Does that even make sense?

I have a tendency to beat myself up for not being the best of the best. There's always a push to do more, give more, be more. Sometimes I feel like I have to be superwoman. It is exhausting. I'm exhausted of thinking I am never enough. I'm sick of worrying that I don't live up to other people's expectations.

Now, let me tell you a little story. Bear with me through this tangent....

Here I was feeling like my 10 pounds was not enough and feeling down. I'm sitting on the couch watching one of my favorite Biggest Loser seasons on Netflix. (Cheesy but I forgot just how much I loved this show. It's really inspiring.) Out of the corner of my eye I see my wedding ring has spun around. I move to fix it and notice my engagement ring is loose also. For the past year my engagement ring has been tight. On a few occasions it has been stuck on my finger for days until I could stand to pry it off. I don't know what made me do it but I start taking the rings off. Wedding ring comes off no problem. Engagement ring comes off no problem. I'm staring at the rings in my hand and suddenly it hits me....

10 pounds lost. This is my sign. This is my reason for going through all of this.

This is my first major sign that my hard work really is something to be proud of. Right now it's a ring. The next time I could go down a dress size. Even though I see the same person in the mirror, she's slowly changing. I am different, one baby step at a time.


Screw other people's expectations. This is me, doing what I can to be happy. 

Four Weeks

This week is my fourth week at WW. I'm not sure what this week will hold but I'll find out on Wednesday. Nervous? Maybe a little. But as I sit and wonder what will happen I can't help but ask myself...why is this so hard?

It seems like such a simple thing to do. Eat right. Exercise. Move on. There are days where it is that simple. It doesn't bother me that I'm on this path. It feels good. This year when I see the diet adds or promos for gyms I don't have that guilty feeling in the pit of my stomach. I can confidently say that I am finally doing something. I don't have to lie to myself anymore. I can set myself free.

Because I don't want to lie to myself I have to face the truth. I did this to myself. I let myself get lost over food. I never thought of food as an addiction. I used to scoff and say "Oh, what a cheap excuse." I don't scoff any longer. Food is most certainly an addiction and I found myself at the heart of it. I am not proud of this fact. It's painful and embarrassing. Who the hell gets addicted to food? It sneaks up on you. I knew I was addicted when I counted the number of times I walked into the kitchen to forage for food. I knew I was addicted when I thought of what I ate and how I tried to hide it. I turned to food to cope, to give me happiness when I needed it. I turned to food when I was lonely, angry or bored. It was delicious and satisfying for a short while. It was easier to eat than to stop and do something else. Afterwards I would feel sick with guilt and annoyance. If I had just taken a stand earlier my road would not be as long as it is now. However, it is what it is and I have to accept that. It's not normal to never want to look in a mirror. It's not normal to worry over what people will think when they see you. It's not normal for a 24 year old to be tired all the time. If I didn't stop now, I shudder to think of what the consequences would have been.

I watched "My 600lb Life" on TLC earlier this week. I cried so many times. I am no where near that weight (Thank GOD) but I could relate to certain parts. I can relate to mentally craving junk and practically tasting it, even though you know it's wrong. I can relate to being miserable about how you look and wanting to hide from the world. I know what it's like to see yourself at a large weight from years past and say "Wow I wasn't that fat" because your current weight is the biggest you've ever been. My heart broke a thousand times watching this show. It sounds dramatic, I know. But I'm at this crazy turning point in my life and I'm emotional and admitting things that I tried to push away. After watching this, it hit me like a ton of bricks...

I'm going to have to deal with this for the rest of my life.

I can get to a place I want to be but I'll have to fight for it every single day. I have to find a balance to maintain so I never have to come to this dark place again. I want to have children, I want to wear my husbands t-shirts as pajamas, I want to feel sexy, I want to walk for hours and not sit down after 15 minutes. Children stick out most in my mind. I'll be 25 this year and my heart keeps whispering that soon I'll want to think about being a mom. I'll be devastated if I can't have children, especially if one of the reasons is self inflicted. I have a hunch that it's not going to be a walk in the park for me and the thought that it might never happen terrifies me.

All of these thoughts are flying around my mind. I can't explain why I'm so determined this time. I don't really know what's making it stick. Maybe I hit my bottom? I always knew in the back of my mind that I had to do something and no one could do it for me. I must have finally woken up. It seems to all fall into place. Four weeks is the longest I've ever gone and the fact that I still don't want to give up makes me feel like this is the real deal. I'll tell you one thing, I never want to see the worry in my family's eyes ever again. That cuts the most. I'm grateful to have a family that loves me that much but it's a soul shattering feeling to hear them cry. My heart drops whenever I hear "I'm so worried about you."

The road still seems long. I don't quite see the horizon but I know it's there. For now that's enough.

Here's to a good week.