I'm up, I'm down.
I want to run from my husband, I want to run to my husband.
My love for my kids is constant, and bittersweet. Can't they stay babies forever?
I'm having a rough time. Clearly, right?
I'm discouraged, but it is mostly overload. Really concentrating on losing weight (for me) is work. It's all-consuming at times. It's easier on the To Do list to be 300 pounds and not care what goes in your mouth -- better yet, you can consume ENORMOUS amounts of calories and not gain weight. Brilliant! But you're stuck in a cage of fat and distain that doesn't go away.
This is time-consuming, but easier in every other way. There's no way I'm giving up or turning back. I'm just hitting my very first massive roadbump and it's name is Bonita.
I talked with my husband about it and he didn't give me the "I love you the way you are" speech. He told me I'd come too far and I'm a New Person. He didn't give me the grace to slide back into a big ball of fat again. He gave me the confidence to move forward, and to not give up.
That's kind of a big deal that I need to marinate on for a bit. Hard to explain and put to words.
We got a pizza. I ate it. I want SO bad to really eat it. To snarf a whole piece, bread and all.
But I didn't. I had 3 slices, and ate 1/3 of the crust of one slice.
I gave the dog some of my crust, because he loves pizza crust, and he's as sweet as sugar. I drank some wine. I took a bite of a brownie, chewed it, savored it, and spit it out. Rinsed my mouth. I wondered what kind of freak does that. Oh yeah, I do.
I really can't eat like everyone else does. I have a carb-intolerance. I know this. Me, eating the way everyone else does, will render me a diabetic/hypoglycemic, fat, and not feeling good. That's not living - not the way I want to live.
This isn't really a "diet" on the whole. It is how it is. Yes, I'll ease up as time goes on and find my happy balance. But right now, eating under 50 net carbs a day is my life.