It's not a lot, but it's down and not up.

I cut off drinking during the week last week, and that was a nice experiment.  I didn't really miss it, and I ate less.  This week I tried to do the same, and ended up failing Monday and Tuesday.  We went out to dinner with friends Monday and then Tuesday... I just didn't feel like being strong apparently.


It's frustrating.  But I'm determined to keep with it.  Mainly because I feel uncomfortable.  It's so embarrassing, disheartening to know where I was just one year ago, and where I am now.  Part of me wonders if I should talk to my doctor about getting some sort of surgery to help me.  It goes against what I really want, but I also really want to be around longer than most fat-fat people are around.

I don't see many ladies my size or weight that are walking around into their 70s.  Something to think about.

Looking Forward

I'm sipping my second cup of coffee and pretending I don't have to leave for work in 10 minutes.


I'm on a good run with journaling, walking.  Just need to continue.

Continue, continue.

I've allowed myself chocolate.


Other than that, it's been pretty much low carb.

I think I can do a wee bit better than what I'm doing for a small space of time.  Not forever, but... a WEEK?

A good week to cut my carb addiction a bit and kick myself into better habits.  Maybe less cravings, too.  I notice the less carbs I eat (this pas week), the less hungry I am.  The less sugar crashes, too, obviously.

It is hard, though.  It takes some of the "fun" out of things.  But it also will hopefully lead me to a better place with my wardrobe.  SO looking forward to that.

I need to remind myself of it over and over.

286 - Last Night I Had Popcorn For Dinner

I'm trying again.  I am.  Not hardcore, but hardcore-ish.

I'm trying to eat lower carb, higher fat, within a calorie range.

I've done pretty OK.  I've gone over my calories, though.  At one point I weighed in at 283.  I started the week on my period, too.  So I really don't feel like I've accomplished too much.

It's hard for me to decide what I am going to do - extreme low carb/high fat, or simply low carb.

I do think it is always good to do an "induction" where you do well for 2 weeks to kind of cut yourself away from those things that tempt you.

I didn't do a hardcore induction last week and I'm wondering if I should do that starting today - even if it's only for a week.

Last night I had popcorn for dinner.

Not exactly low carb.

But it was what I wanted.

What I really, truly want is to fit back into things again.  That's my goal.  Where my clothes felt good, my body felt smaller, and I felt better.  It's easier to eat what I want, and much funner.  But it's way easier to feel better in my own skin and not have back boobs to the extreme.

The hardest part for me is the fear of all this -- this cycle -- repeating itself again.

Lose, gain.

Lose, gain.

Better Day

I have a lot of obstacles. I don't know how many of them are what my life has in front of me, or that stem from depression/anxiety.

But - I'm making a choice for a better day today.  Not saying that people can "will themselves" out of depression, or making light of it.  But I want things to change for me.

Especially in my pant-size department.

Yesterday I went for a walk.  Every morning I've been doing  a 3-minute jumpstart.  Walk, walk, walk.



I don't have much of a desire for anything.

I really hate this cycle.  Probably most people would say that (whatever afflicts them - non-terminally) is "the worst" affliction.

I hate being fat.

Anyone who has been over 300 pounds and gets down to a more manageable weight will say that "their life changed dramatically."

I can't imagine living without arms.  I have arms.

I can't imagine being unable to walk.  I can walk.

I can do most everything.  But my fat truly does prohibit me from living a better life.

I wish it were easy.  I'm so frustrated at being where I am.  AGAIN.  At standing in front of my closet nearly in tears.  AGAIN.  Tight pants.  Shirts too short.  Not wanting to walk through, past, in.  Not really wanting to do much of anything, really.  I don't get it.  I really don't.

My relationship is so strained.  If it weren't for the kids, I think we'd be divorced.

I wish I knew what came first, or why this happens.  I KNOW how happy I am being smaller.  I've been there.  But the will for that was not strong enough to weather the storms of life for me.


Anxiety, Crap, Things I Don't Want To Say

I had the strangest thing happen.

I played a card game that I used to play years ago to relax and get my mind off the chaos in my life.  As I played, I sipped a glass of wine and enjoyed the solitude.

Time went on and I finally won the game.  The "triumph music" played.
I started sobbing.

I didn't understand why.  But the music, the wine... it triggered something in me that hadn't been touched, but had been sitting underneath the surface.

The fears, dread, sadness, anger, devastation.  Waiting, waiting for my daughter to come home.  I'd play that card game, often with a glass of wine, at 11pm --her curfew-- knowing she'd miss it, knowing it.  But still dreading it.  I played it to keep my mind off things, to get me through.  To steady the racing thoughts. Over and over.  I remember doing it when I took Zoloft.  I don't even like typing it. It makes me choke on my own throat, makes my eyes itch.

I stuff my feelings, apparently.  Gosh I'm stoic! 

I keep going. I don't quit. I hang in. I press on.

As. I die. Inside. I shrivel and shrink and grasp, and pray, and crawl somewhere in there where even I don't know.  I harden, I forget, I put up boundaries. I don't let in, I blame.  I blame. I project. I obsess.

I do so many things that I hate and wish I didn't on a day-to-day, minute-to-minute basis.


I get by.

I do.

I get by.

I work. I clean. I cook. I function.

And -by God- I'm dying in here!

It really sucks. I'm sure I'm not alone.

But I'm sure there's not a person I can (pay to) go talk to that will get it in a way that puts my soul right again.

This is (maybe) why people commit suicide.  This feeling of isolation, desperation, self-loathing.

I'm not going to kill myself. (Unless it's with food and self-uncare)

And I don't want to talk to friends because let's face it they don't care.  I almost don't care, which is why I hide in a happy face and make everyone's day and "am amazing" and all that wonderful crap.

It'll ride, slide, and be OK. But it's still there, waiting, dormant.  It is still there.

It's Been a While: 285

Today I weighed myself and it was 285.

I wasn't peeled down to my skivvies, my preferred way of weighing, but I wanted to make something "official" and put it over there, and call it a day.

I can't keep telling myself this is transitional and not official.

It's my official weight right now.

As I moved around my day yesterday I thought, I have to document how absolutely crappy I feel right now.

I hate looking in my closet for clothes
Everything feels like it shrunk (though I know it's ME that has grown)
I feel uncomfortable in my own skin - it's really not my clothes
I feel unhealthy... sluggish, slower

It's very strange.  Kind of surreal, to be here again.  I'm feeling a bit baffled and hopeless.

I haven't been eating that bad.  I'm certainly not eating with abandon.

Basically if I want to stay at a certain weight, or lose weight, I have to put a LOT of time and effort into it and deny myself a LOT.

Part of my downfall is that I haven't been able to do that.  I've been stressed, tired, and simply haven't been able to put my time and effort and energy into giving so much focus to my weight-management.  That's the bottom line of things.

Will I have more time now?

What can I do to make time?

My health is important to me.  

At any rate, yesterday I did OK - better.  These few days here I'm putting in odd hours, and things are not predictable.  My new job does not have a refrigerator that I can put my meals in, which is not a big deal when I'm working a part-time day, but when I'm working a full day like I've been lately - it doesn't really work out so well.  There is a cube-sized one there now.  I'm thinking of bringing a larger one simply so I can have that available to me.  We'll see.

I need to get past the next couple weeks without gaining any more weight.  Things will even out for me - although it will still be a challenge (I have to recognize this).  But they will settle into a routine.

I don't like how I feel, and I don't like food more than the feeling of fitting into my own clothes, and looking in a closet without wanting to rip my own skin off.  This is nothing new.  I've been in this spot with the same feelings.  But now I need to remember how this feels, and charge towards it again.

I'm excited to get there again.