I've been here before...lots. I'm at this point where a milestone looms, where new territory beckons, where I might have to stop thinking that everyone is staring at me, where I might not have to worry about how much space I take up in the world. And, I'm scared to death...
It's been 12 weeks since I began this whole life-style change and actually I'm finallyy to the point where I was exactly a year ago. Last summer I weighed 203 pounds, left to visit my family in Oregon, planned on losing 10; instead gained 7 and spent the next 9 months gaininig another 23. This summer, I'm in the exact same place. I weigh 201; I'm leaving to visit my family in Oregon in a couple of weeks, and I'm wondering why this year will be any different.
Because when I get to this point, and those glorious 100's smirk at me from 18 ounces away, I turn and run the other way. Is it because that's what "normal" people weigh? It is because then I might have to stop making excuses for not doing things? Is it because it's too damn hard weighing carrots, and still seeing the same ugly, fat girl in the mirror? Is it because I've known nothing different than hating my body, and what if I get to that magic number and still seeing nothing but hate for my eyes and my thighs?
I'm about to apologize for venting in my own blog--but I am sorry! I'm sorry for complaining, for worrying about such shit when there are people with actual problems in the world. I'm sorry for gaining and losing thousands of pounds over and over again. I'm sorry for not loving the body that God has given me, for teaching my daughter not to love her own. I'm sorry for quitting every time I get so close to actually succeeding. I'm sorry...hell, I'm sorry for being sorry. But, you've all found me on a really bad day. Maybe tomorrow I'll try again, but for now, I don't expect this to work...and I think I'll go eat a brownie.