Let's try this again......

I don't want to get my hopes up but the sun is actually shining this morning (hallelujah!) and already I feel like a completely different person from yesterday. I realize that as of late, I have been more than a wee bit "doom and gloom" and I know I desperately need to work on that. I used to be so happy, but this being fat thing has really gotten the best of me. Negativity breeds negatively, and boy have I cornered the market on being Debbie Downer for quite some time. Is it any wonder the scale has been stalled at that ugly 230's number for months? I haven't done jack shit to change it.
But today, despite the forecast for rain later this evening, I am going to make a conscious effort to keep my chin up and make it a good day....and that means being on top of what I jam in my mouth.....trust me, I understand the past two nights of tacos, ice cream, and wine haven't done much to improve my situation. God, that doesn't even sound good when I write it....
But really, I can't just blame the tacos. Or the ice cream. Or the wine. It's all me. I haven't exercised beyond the walk here and there with Josh. As a mater of fact, I even skipped it today because I was working on homework this morning. I have become so good at making excuses about not exercising that even Josh has given up trying to persuade me that I need to do it. It's not worth the aggravation.
This, too, is all on me.
But looking outside today gives me hope, and of course reading others blogs also inspires me. There are so many people out there DOING IT...LOSING...TAKING CONTROL....I used to be one of those people and then something just happened.
I quit.
I haven't pin-pointed why that happened last year after the wedding but  I have theories. It is obvious that my dysfunctional relationship with food was never truly dissolved. I never learned how to let go of all the things that got me here in the first place. I still think of food as comfort, and I still somehow have this sense of entitlement that I should be able to eat what I want. Oh, what a fucking fallacy that is!
It's May already....well, it's almost the end of May, really. Summer is just about here and I know that this year I will not be embracing having to go through my summer clothes once again to rummage and find the few items that still fit. I have thought about this moment months ago; I have begged and pleaded with myself to make a change, and yet here it is.....truth time.
And the truth is, I need to start over.
Clean Slate.
New Beginning.
Today.

Rain, rain...you suck!

I am struggling....
Struggling with lack of motivation...struggling with guilt because I am unmotivated...struggling with berating myself for this lack of motivation....just your typical plain old struggling - except it feels kind of hard core. I don't feel like myself.
It has been raining for what feels like weeks on end. Yes, there have been intermittent bursts of what some might call sunshine, but for the most part April and May have been one gigantic annoying soak-fest. Meanwhile, Texas is in some horrific drought right now. What gives?
While there are no rain drops falling from the sky at this particular second, they are sure to come today. I have checked and re-checked the forecast. In the next 10 days, only Monday shows any chance for a day without rain.
Mother Nature must be going through "the change".  It's really the only excuse for this kind of shit.
I have whined and complained about how rainy days are super unmotivating for me, so to have 2 months jam packed with this type of weather has done little to kick my working out or healthier eating plan into gear.
However, I realize that is my fault, and my fault only. This is quite possibly the worst excuse I could have for not working out INSIDE MY HOME or trying to be a more conscious eater. Rain does not excuse bad behavior. It just doesn't. I know lots of people who push past those lame excuses (which I acknowledge it is) and just get their asses moving.
For them, shedding the fat wins out over inclement weather every time. I wish I was one of those people. Maybe some day I will be, but right now? It doesn't appear that I am. I have a dark cloud hanging over me, and it's not just the one outside right now...and I want it gone.
I know one part of it is that I have to get this room, my office space and one-time spare bedroom (which is being converted into a home gym) organized. Right now my treadmill is acting as hanger for my clean laundry and the seat of the recumbant bike has text books piled on it. The elliptical machine is jammed into a corner which is not conducive for exercise. How convenient.
So here's my plan....maybe this weekend, if I get my homework out of the way I can start to get this place in shape....and then maybe, just maybe, me getting in shape will follow suit.

When "the end" isn't near enough....

I should be emitting a huge sigh of relief right about now. Yesterday marked the end of another semester, inching me ever closer to my masters degree and a new teaching career. But it's hard to feel relief when other things are still hanging over me akin to the grey and dreary sky that is apparent outside today.
I still have the following academic hurdles to jump before the end of this semester truly feels like the "end":

• Complete 30 hours of class observation before the end of May
• Suffer through a 3-night a week Pre-Calc class that begins mid-May and runs through June 30
• Take another class (Introducing the Arts across the Curriculum) that will occupy 2 full Friday/Saturday/Sunday blocks of my time in June. Of course one of those full day classes falls on Josh's 40th birthday. How pissed am I about that? I'll tell you. I'M VERY FREAKING PISSED.
• Complete a full detailed write up of my two observations once this second one is completed.
• Take the Praxis II exam....and start thinking about studying for and taking the 3rd Praxis, while I'm at it.

But... I have to trudge on through and Just. Get. This. Shit. Done.
And then maybe, just maybe, I will finally breathe that sigh of relief......but for now, I'm still very much in school mode. And it sucks balls.
Today is the only day of reprieve since I will be doing my first 2 days of my second observation tomorrow and Friday and then will be preparing for a Mother's Day/Dad's b-day celebration we are having here on Sunday with both Josh's parents and my family. The house is a wee tad messy right now and while I should be channeling my inner Cinderella and scrubbing every surface til it shines, I'm sitting here avoiding these necessary duties like the plague (as I do with anything I find remotely distasteful). If you haven't caught on by now, I'm here to tell you, "Avoidance" is my middle name.
It's raining again today (all day) so of course that meant no morning walk, no start-to-my-day rejuvenation in the sun. Instead, I'm feeling a sense of sleepy laziness that makes me want to crawl back under the covers and take a long winter's nap. Unfortunately, that won't be happening.
I have to attend a family meeting at the facility where my grandmother is staying for her rehab. We are meeting with her case worker to discuss options, but my mom and I have already mulled it over it, and we feel it might be best to simply honor my Gram's wishes and allow her to try living back at her own home again. But it's good to get some additional information should we go for the assisted living route, hence the meeting with the case worker today at 1:30.
Afterward I need to go to the mall to buy an outfit for tomorrow (and let me just say how much I do NOT look forward to shopping for clothing right now), buy a baby gift, and hopefully I can squeeze in a pedicure before heading to the paint store with Josh to choose colors to paint the exterior of our house. My toes are an absolute abomination at the moment and I should be horrified at the fact I have been running around with them exposed in flip flops and sandals as of late, but really? I have had much bigger fish to fry to really give a significant rat's ass. However, since making a good impression on my mentor teacher is important for tomorrow, I figure I better get these gnarly chipped turquoise polished bear claws under control.
Somewhere in there I also need to arrange a date between the chicken that's been marinating for two day in my fridge and my grill.....(and should also think about making better friends with my elliptical machine, but there's always tomorrow, I guess).
The long and short of it is that it will be a busy end, not just to the week, but also to the semester, which although considered officially "over" by the college's calendar, certainly isn't over by my own personal one.
Hmmm...maybe all of this "busy" will keep my mind off of food for a change.
Hey, weirder things have been known to happen.
Yesterday's weight: 228.25
A step in the right direction (even if it was stress induced).
Only 98.25 more "steps" to go.

Wipe the drool off your chin and just walk away.....

Staring out the window at a grey, rain-filled sky has become such the norm lately, I am often surprised when I see anything else through the glass. For all the gloominess and precipitation we've had here over the past month or so, I may as well be living in Seattle. No surprises today, though - it's raining (!) and is forecasted to do so all day, adding in severe lighting and thunder just to spice things up a bit. How happy am I that I have an hour's drive to class this evening?!
The sky right now is quite ominous looking and the wind is picking up so I don't doubt that in a minute or two I will be running for all of the open windows, slamming them shut as the heavens unleash the next round of flood waters. I am SO sick of this weather. I'm pretty sure I have mentioned this in ALL of my recent posts...
Where is spring? Where is the sun????? I need the sun to help lift my spirits. This thing with my Gram is really difficult to deal with and accept. She is in rehab now at what is considered a very nice facility (many of them are scary and depressing looking). They also have an assisted living facility that (fingers crossed) she may be able to go into but we really won't know what all of our options are until after we have a family meeting with her case worker on Wednesday of next week. I went with my mom to a few places yesterday and I nearly wanted to cry. People in wheel chairs staring into space, their faces slack-jawed and vacant. That is not my Gram. She is still very much "with it" and has not lost her sense of humor. With the exception of blurry eyesight, some hearing loss, and slight unsteadiness on her feet, she is in far better shape than many of the people I saw yesterday. And these people are no where near her incredible 96 years of age.
So, not surprisingly, I have been a little depressed, and a little stressed and all of this combined makes me want to do the thing I do best, which is grab the nearest piece of cake or pie and have my way with it.
Yesterday was especially tough and all throughout the day, I felt myself breaking down, that will to be "good" diminishing with every passing hour. Thankfully, the voice of reason made an appearance and won over. Even when, at 4:15, I arrived at Wegmans completely and utterly FAMISHED (all I had to eat all day was a banana) and found the following waiting for me upon my entry to the store:

• FOUR shopping carts filled with discounted Easter candy. And not just any Easter candy - I'm talking 100% drool-inducing Zitner's Buttercream Eggs. In big egg and little egg varieties. Oh, hell YES. 

After I said a few silent "holy shits," I approached one of the carts slowly and gently picked up the large box housing a single beautiful chocolate covered egg. What I did next I can guarantee you that the other individuals hoarded around this cart did not do. Knowing full well this act would probably put the kibosh on any car ride home Easter candy consumption, I still turned over the box to look at the nutritional information. And I am happy that I did, because even though I of course KNOW those eggs are from straight from the devil's candy making factory, I'm not sure I realized the full extent of JUST how evil they actually are.  You would have thought the box was covered in poop stank the way I threw it back in the cart, snorting my disgust, and then again silently giving myself a big "atta girl" for walking way from such a tempting mountain of Makemefeelbetterbutonlytemporarily food.
But the candy carts were the least of my worries. It's not a joke when they tell you never to go to a grocery store hungry.
To whomever initially figured out that bit of well intended advice and passed it along, I have one thing to say - Brava! It is sooooo damn true. Every aisle, every corner, every rack, shelf or kisosk called my name. I was conjuring recipes in my head with every turn of my cart. But the real challenge presented itself when I called Josh to ask him if I should buy some dessert. Seriously????? Yes, I did. It's not like I was calling to ask his permission if I could buy something - but I wanted him to give me the green light to eat something bad because my internal Food Chaperon was yelling at me not to and I wanted to tell her to fuck off because my husband said it was OK to buy something bad and, after all, I respect his opinion. One thing I know about my husband is that he will support me in anything I do. He will give me anything I need. He is a nurturer and wants nothing more than to see me happy. I knew he'd say, "Sure - go ahead!" But instead he asked me: "Well, do you want dessert?"
Ugh - what kind of question is that?
This was especially annoying because I just so happened to be standing in front of a Wegmans peanut butter pie. It was practically jumping into my cart all on it's own, it was as sure as I was that Josh was going to say yes.
I had to do some quick thinking. If I let the depressed, sad, stressed and hormonal Rochelle answer, I knew the answer to his question would be a resounding "Is the pope Catholic????!!!!!" That peanut butter pie would have been nestled, all snug in my cart in two seconds flat.
However, if I let the rational, reasoning, dieting Rochelle answer, who was trying desperately to hang onto whatever thread of will power there was left, I knew the answer would be "No, no - absolutely not".....Ok, I'm exaggerating - it probably would have more like a "Um, I guess not."
So instead I just said, "How about if I surprise you?" because that seemed like a good way to get out of having to make a snap decision.
In the end, I chose 100 calorie Fudgesicles and left the store with a sense of satisfaction. My cramps and hormones wouldn't allow me to leave without some form of chocolate, so I felt this was an acceptable compromise. Portion control on a stick....and no caloric apocalypse. Yey me.
I'm taking these small "victories" to heart. I am trying to keep my liquid intake up and calories down. I am trying to eat mindfully as much as possible. Do I always succeed? No. Will I get there? Yes.
I just want to get through the next week which will mark the end of another semester and getting that much closer to a new career. And hopefully some decisions will be ironed out as far as my Gram is concerned. Each day brings challenges but hey, that's life. I better get used to it.

Every day do something that will inch you closer to a better tomorrow.
~Doug Firebaugh

Break down in order to break through?

I had a good cry today...

Many of the tears shed were for my 96 year old grandmother who is back in the hospital for the second time in less than 2 months and is facing the real possibility of being put into a home after so many years of living independently. It is a hard decision for my mom to make and it is killing my family - but worst of all, I feel it will kill my grandmother, literally. She has always been very proud of the fact that she has lived on her own and for the most part has been relatively self-sufficient in that she still cooks for herself, is able to get around with only the occasional use of a cane and still seems to have all of "her faculties"  - a term she uses to refer to still having her wits about her. She is an inspiration to us all and to see this happening to her is devastating for my family. I wish there was something I could do  - I feel completely helpless and I know my mom does too. But sadly, my mother cannot take care of her. She tried this after the last bout in the hospital and discovered just how difficult it was. Not to mention she already has two "man-children" (my dad and brother) living at home that she caters to (this is a whole other story) and she herself is in desperate need of knee replacement surgery so it's hard enough for her to get around without the extra responsibility and challenges of having to care for a 96-year old.

My husband is a saint and I don't know what I would do without him. He is the voice of reason in this relationship. Where as I can't seem to turn off my emotions, he approaches these tough life obstacles with logic and realism.  He is willing to take my grandmother in. He is willing to give up his beloved living room space (which doubles as his office) for the sake of grandmother. He comes up with solutions that shows just how much he cares. He is the best thing that has ever happened to me.

I won't know more until I talk to my mom later today. She has a meeting with someone from Medicare to explain to her the process of getting my grandmother situated in a home, but I want to talk to my mom about some other options. We do have a guest bedroom here...might we really be able to keep her here with us? I don't know....All I do know is that the thought of her being put into some facility is beyond depressing. I do not think she would last long if it truly comes to this.

And in coming to this realization, I cried for her -  for what this hospitalization means this time around and for her loss of independence. I am so truly sad for her.

In times like these, it is wonderful to have the support of those that are closest to you. I called Sheryl at 7:20 this morning to share my sad news, and to talk. And yes, to cry. She knows my Gram from way back when we were teenagers.  I talked, she listened. I cried.

Somewhere in the course of the conversation, the subject switched from my Gram to me. I suppose I really needed to vent. However, as of late the only thing I really feel the need to vent about is my weight. It was at that point when I realized that some of my tears were for me, too.

Maybe it's odd, but I'm not one of those people that cry very often about being fat. Of course there are times that I have, but it isn't frequent - maybe because I have just accepted being fat as a part of who I am. And who cries over "who they are"? However, I have been doing a lot of soul searching lately. Not just thinking....but true soul searching. It's probably the reason I have been a little depressed these past few weeks because when you start to ask yourself the hard questions, you often get answers that do not come easily, but when they do, they are quite often pretty raw and more than a tad unkind. At least that is the case for me -  when I finally get truly, whole-heartedly and unapologetically honest with myself. And when the brutal honesty comes, the emotions come with it. And talking about all of this today with Sheryl was emotional - in every way. Hence, the bawl-fest.

The truth is, I am tired. So very fucking tired of looking and feeling this way. But again, I found myself asking about the concept of hitting that "rock bottom" - wondering if anyone - ANYONE - could answer when that "click", that slap in the face, that "a-ha moment," was going to happen to me. I have been reading as many weight-loss blogs as I can lately, trying to find those posts where the writer tells their story about that moment when they just knew this was it - it was their time to succeed. Sometimes it's a picture, sometimes it's a comment either from family or even a perfect stranger, sometimes it's just a slow and steady process that takes years of making small changes until one day - BAM - they are 100 lbs lighter. As I said to Sheryl this morning, I feel like I have had a hundred of those "moments." I look at my wedding pictures, that double chin staring back at me in soooooo many pictures - and I am angry. Angry that my "click" didn't happen before the wedding photographers click, if you get my drift.

What exactly will it take?

Sheryl advised that everyone's "a-ha"moment is different and that I shouldn't compare myself to others. Sometimes it's physical, and sometime it's metaphysical. Franky, I really don't give a shit which way mine decides to materialize - I just want it to happen - and SOON.

I have to admit, my chat with Sheryl made me feel much better. It's amazing what another person's words of comfort and a different perspective can do for one's mood. Before I spoke with her, I was way way down in the dumps. I even opted out of my morning walk with Josh because all I wanted to do was lay in bed. This is not me. Thankfully, I didn't listen to my inner demons -  I ended up getting up at 6:50 anyway because had I not at that moment, I might still be hiding out under the covers.....

It is oddly comforting being talked down from the ledge - from a friend who gets you and your problem. I definitely have that in Sheryl and I am very thankful for it. She gave me some good encouragement and advice and once again, I am trying to refocus my thoughts, my self, my way of thinking about food, and what getting control is all about. Because right now? I feel very much out of control. Not in a crazy out of control "I am going to binge at every fast food restaurant I can find" type of way (something I have never done, thankfully) - but I just feel like no matter what I do, I am not doing enough. And that's probably because deep down, I know I'm not.

But, like a good friend who wants to see her friend succeed, Sheryl gave me some challenges to  tackle this week. I have to check in with her in a few days with a progress report.  

Challenge #1 -  Drink HMR shakes at least 3 days in a row as a meal (Got this covered today - Vanilla Peach - not bad).

Challenge #2 - Keep up the water consumption to at least 64 oz a day (I recently bought a big 32 oz sports water bottle and yesterday was my first day to consume nearly 90 oz of water. Yes, I am peeing every 5 minutes but apparently, this is supposed to be a good thing). 

Challenge #3 -  Try to burn at least 300 calories through exercise daily. (By far, this will be my toughest challenge. I'm definitely thinking there has got to be sloth DNA somewhere in my gene pool).

So those are the challenges for this week....

I will let you know my progress....

I can do this.

I will do this.

"Take care of your body. It's the only place you have to live."
 ~ Jim Rohn

Blame it on the rain...

Big surprise - it's raining again.
And the forecast for the next 10 days is completely disgusting. Rain, rain and more rain. Seriously Mother Nature? Enough already. My backyard is turning into a small pond.

If warm weather and sunny days don't get here soon, I am going to invest in one of those Vitamin D lamps people use when they have seasonal depression. This is just ridiculous.

It's a good thing then, I guess, that Josh and I got out for our morning 3-miler relatively early. There were a few rain drops here and there as we plodded along but now it's more of a steady drizzle and by later tonight and tomorrow we are supposed to have some severe thunderstorms and rain all day, so I think it's safe to say there will be no outside activity for the next day or two. And the following 6 or so days after that don't look very promising either.

On one hand, it makes doing homework less annoying (sort of) because I don't feel like I am missing out on sun and warmth and fresh air when I can't be outside, and am instead chained to my lap top. But it has been a long winter filled with many days in front of the computer screen and frankly, I'm freaking sick of it.

Of course I could be working out indoors with any one of our various exercise machines or various other work-out equipment....You name it, we have it. Recumbent bike - check! Treadmill - check! Elliptical Machine - check! Hand weights - check! Resistance bands - check! Workout DVDs - check! And in the attic we are additionally housing an Ab Roller, a Total Gym (although it is the first version of such and is made of metal and rather archaic), a rowing machine and Lord knows what else. Oh - an my yoga mat? That's still up there somewhere, too...

So, rain or no rain, I have absolutely no excuse not to be burning calories (other than arthritic knees that are hating the damp weather).

Yet...here I sit.

But, not for long, I promise. I just finished making a big vat of chili and in the process, also got to the bottom of my seemingly endless smoothie. (Big winner today - vanilla and strawberry! My favorite so far. I think what I love the most about these things is that I get in 2-3 servings of fruit in one shake and it doesn't even feel like it). So now I have until about 2:00 until I have to get ready for class. Time to work that ass.

I mentioned in one of my recent posts that I realize I am not pushing myself - and that is true. I still don't know that this time around in the quest to lose weight that I have fully wrapped my head around DOING IT - despite my written words trying to convince myself that I have it all figured out and I'm all, "I am Woman - Hear Me Roar!" Not really "feeling it" is an emotion that scares me and makes me feel that I am not in it to win it - and I know from past experience that this mind set leads to total failure. Not that I have to be all or nothing (my usual mojo) but I have to at least BELIEVE that I am going to try my very best to get healthy. Right now I just feel kind of lazy and I hate it. I spend my time doing other stupid things (have you played Text Twist??? It's addictive) instead of working out. This is not a recipe for weight loss, my friends - it is a fucking concoction for disaster.

I wish I knew what the breaking point has to be - I mean I have so many reasons why I need to lose weight - and why I want to lose it. But I also know that you have to be in a proper frame of mind that makes you believe in yourself 110% and above all else you are determined to be successful. You have to feel the power, desire and burning passion to get in shape. It has to be a commitment - not an on again, off again relationship. In other words, this is not something to be approached half-assed. I'd love to blame it on the rain (as would Milli Vanilli, no doubt), however, I think this lethargy stems from something much deeper and it worries me terribly. I know taking baby steps is OK.....but baby steps isn't going to make the scale move the way I want it to - so I need to do something more.

Yes, a 3 mile walk is good - but I need to move past that. Find something I really enjoy that is fun and doesn't feel like a chore......or kill my knees. If only chewing burned calories the way jogging does - would any of of us be in this situation? Anyway, sitting here writing about it isn't doing me any favors either so I may as well get up and get moving....at least that is a step in the right direction.

"Desire is the starting point of all achievement, not a hope, not a wish, but a keen pulsating desire which transcends everything."

~Napoleon Hill~

Listening to my inner skinny bitch

How is it that it's Friday already? I swear, time is flying by at lightning speed and before I know it this semester will be over, I will be submerged in summer classes (boo hiss), and I will be anticipating my first trip to the Delaware beaches to stick my toes in the sand....in other words, it's fast approaching SWIM SUIT SEASON (insert blood-curdling scream of horror and shower scene music from Psycho here).

Every single stinking year around the end of April, beginning of May, every cell in my body seems to have heightened sensitivity. I start to think about the summer and all the things I love about the weather turning warmer. And then as soon as the warm and happy thoughts begin to fade I think about the fact that summer also means I will be donning a bathing suit and all of those summery feelings of happy happy joy joy turn into panicky feelings of "Oh shit" and "WTF" and "Lord have mercy"....Trust me when I say that no matter how much energy and sweat I invest into panicking, it does nothing to make my fat and cellulite disappear.

It's April 15 and the reality is that I am 231 pounds and no amount of freaking out is going to save me from this situation. The past is the past and I don't have the power to go back in time and do anything about the pizza, the ice cream, the pie or any other over indulgence I have participated in over the last 6 months. But I do have the ability to control my future. I am banking on success, knowing I possess this ability.

I had a good chat with my friend Val yesterday. We are very close, and try to talk as often as our busy lives allow and she reads this blog regularly. So, despite her living 3/4 of the way across the country in Colorado, she is fully aware of my plight - even if she doesn't get to "see" all of my physical ups and downs on the scale. One of the things she said to me yesterday kind of hit home. She told me that I tend to approach my weight loss as an all or nothing type situation and that I should maybe start to congratulate myself on the little successes instead of berating myself when I don't see the kinds of results I expect to. And she may be right. On some level, anyway. I tend to forget that weight loss is not an overnight thing and that often times, it can take people YEARS to make the changes necessary to see results. Those who can't bear the thought of their lives changing so drastically overnight sometimes do it in steps - for instance setting a goal to just exercise for 30 minutes a day, even if it's just a walk. They don't even concern themselves with the eating part right away - they just focus on incorporating exercise into their daily routine and once they have mastered that, then they can move on to the next step. This process takes time. It sure as shit does not take a morbidly obese person and turn them into a skinny mini overnight. When I read success stories (one of my favorite things to do - I can't wait until I have one of my own), I find myself getting disappointed when not everyone's story tells of a 100 lb loss occurring in 6 months. There are some folks who talk about losing 60 pounds over the course of 3 years. Somewhere in my warped thinking, I feel discouraged that it took them so long. Then I stop to think - well, shit, what have you lost in the past 3 years????

Because I have been buried under these layers of fat for so long, it is hard to play the waiting game. I have become incredibly impatient and I just want to break free. I want weight loss to be instantaneous and I want to see big results, like YESTERDAY. I know this way of thinking is just as unhealthy as the weight I carry and it sets me up for failure, disappointment and will frustrate me to the point of quitting if I don't shut it off. Fast.

What I need to make click is that I don't have to go all balls to the wall and think that that is the only way I am going to get this job done (and it is like a job - it takes hard work). Yes - I need to make changes - a lot of them - but maybe not hard core, all at once. Time to recognize when I achieve small goals, like reducing portions or getting my exercise in. Make that a habit and then work on adding to it. 

It's not a myth. I think every fat person has a thinner, healthier person inside of them that is screaming to get out. Sometimes the voice is whiny and can be quieted by a few cookies, a cone of ice cream or some other dose of poison. 

And then every now and again, that voice is so loud that you can't ignore it anymore and even when you try to feed it cake or booze or cheeseburgers to shut it up, it just gets louder. It starts to demand change. I'm at this point now. And the voice is not imaginary, you know. The voice can come from different places. It's not just in my head. My knees for example? They talk to me quite regularly.  They tell me just how unhappy they are that at age 39 I have allowed arthritis to invade them. My chest talks to me frequently when climbing stairs or walking uphill. It curses like a sailor and reminds me that if I don't change my ways this is only going to get worse.  My inner skinny bitch wants her day in the sun. She is so pissed that for the past 6 months I have ignored her and stuffed her down and suffocated her with whatever comfort food I could find. She wants to know why the fuck I am so resistant to having her emerge?

Good question.

Am I really afraid of something? What would losing weight mean to me? I have a loving husband, a comfortable home, and am on my way to changing my career. Life in that respect is just about as good as it gets. Physical status aside, I am in the best place in my life right now. Sure, I have anxiety about becoming a teacher - it is a huge step. But it doesn't have anything to do with my weight. This issue pre-dates this career change - by decades!

So, what is holding me back? I go to sleep and wake up with this question on my mind. And when i figure it out, I'll be sure to let you know.