I've been operating under the assumption that I started out at 378 for quite a while now. But I really started at 377. Yea I know, a pound, big whoop, but it makes a difference to me in my head. And when I tell people how much I've lost. Because I like to be exact when I do say it. I'm sure I was 378 at one time or another before I made my first weigh in official, but for all intents and purposes, it's 377. Not something I'm particularly proud of. I mean, it's out there. I've had this blog up for almost a year now. And I haven't told anyone, I mean anyone, in my off the computer real life, about it. It's embarrassing, you know? I'll tell them how much I've lost, but my actual weight? No way jose.
And on the subject of that, I'm down 2 pounds. 337 this morning. It was 336 on Monday and Tuesday, which I was quite happy about. But I'm sure today is one of those off days and I'll be back to 336 tomorrow. Which makes that 40 pounds. Bazam.
I've been arguing with Mike quite a bit lately and Monday he did something horrible to me. Which I'm not eager to discuss on here, but suffice to say it was enough to make me want to go off the deep end eating junk food. And guess what, I didn't. He can go fuck himself on that one. I don't know if he is trying to sabotage me because he sees that I'm actually serious this time or what. But it's unacceptable and has not made life easier around here. I'm not really sure where to turn to for support right now. It's a pretty lonely part of my life right now. My family does not have interest in what I'm doing. I write on here and it helps but only so much. I pull myself along so much, sometimes I just get tired and want to quit. I want to go get pizza and eat half of it by myself. Oh who am I kidding, I want to eat the whole fucking thing. I want to get a steak and cheese sub dripping with mayo, or go to mcdonalds and get 2 double cheeseburgers, extra onions, and don't forget the side of 2 mcchickens, extra mayo, just like I used to. I want to stuff my face with food until it hurts my stomach, and you know what? That's not fuckin NORMAL.
So here I am. I eat my healthy food every day. I weigh myself every day and sometimes I exercise. And it's working. For now. I wonder when the day comes and I binge like I just described. Because I'm afraid that will happen. For as long as I've been doing this, that thought has always been at the back of my mind. And I'm also afraid that if and when I do I will not be able to stop. Just like what happened last summer. I don't want to do that again. I know I'm better than that.
That's such an unhappy picture. I look at it and feel like it represents who I was, who I shouldn't be, who I might still be. Because for all the work I've put in so far, I'm still obese. I'd welcome any thoughts on keeping motivated. Or trying to keep the fat junkies out of my head. I'm open for anything.