I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to stamp my feet. I wanted to eat everything in sight, throw in the towel, give up.
But, I can't. Because I am unhappy with the way I feel and look. There is a slight pall over my life, a smidgeon of not-quite-right-ness. And so, I continue on.
I like this. Because my fat doesn't define who *I* am. It's merely a state of my physical body. One that I can change. My body held on to this fat in order to give my baby girl rich milk. My body is holding on to this fat just in case there is a famine. If there ever is a famine, I WILL SURVIVE! :-P
So, on I go. Eating my approved food. Not eating the chocolate orange scones that I made this morning (for someone else). Not burying my woes in a bag of spicy almonds or bbq chips. Or margaritas. So, there's that.
I just have to look to my goal. Think about finally being thin and fitting in my clothes and not feeling uncomfortable all the time. It's not happening as fast as I thought or as I'd like it to. But then again, I'm not being as strict as I should be. The point is that if I keep at it, I WILL MAKE IT. I will lose the weight. I can do this. It seems like a huge mountain, but I just need to take it one day at a time. One pound at a time.
MB-I'm going to email you; I want to know if your mom got the lung transplant!?!?!