Week 2 done!
I wish I could say I am coming to you today full of cheer and happiness, but the truth is, the past couple days I've really struggled. I've lost 12lbs so far - 12lbs in two weeks. And I know that is awesome and wonderful and the logical part of my brain tells me I should be jumping for joy - 12 glorious pounds have left my body and won't return!
But the irrational part of my brain is pissed of, depressed, and angry. See, I lost those 12lbs by the beginning of this past week. Wednesday hit and it's been a stalemate since then - even fluctuating ounces here and there. And I am damn angry. I've drastically changed my diet - seriously, I used My Fitness Pal to track what a typical day had been (I am just going to say it, holy shit) and compare to what I am doing now and it's freaking major difference. And I am getting frustrated to think that I've made such major changes but the scales aren't moving. Realistically, I know the weight didn't just happen overnight and so the harsh reality is, that it's not going to come off overnight, but when you are this overweight and trying so hard, it's so very disheartening to not see the numbers on the scale change.
I know I could come here and blow smoke up every one's ass and pretend like I am just so freakin' happy right now and that things are going marvelously, but I can't do it. I have to be honest in this journey. I have to tell my feelings like it is. I have to be honest with myself.
I've done so well up till today when I caved and had a small slice of fresh from the oven banana bread - I made it for the kids, and the smell was intoxicating (and perhaps if you aren't a foodie, that won't make any sense) and all my frustration and I walked right over and took a slice. Do I regret it? Yes and no. Yes, because I was doing so well with myself - staying so strong despite all the temptations. But no because I know that I am going to just pick myself back up and get right back on track for the rest of the day. The fact of the matter is, I am human. I am going to have good days and bad days. I am not proud of myself the past couple days - while up until today I stayed on track, I've just let this nearly eat me alive and that isn't good. I've obsessed - I've jumped on the damn scales at nearly every turn - I am torturing myself - if I didn't know better, I'd think that subconsciously I am trying to sabotage myself - give myself a reason to say it's OK to quit and I can't do that - I can't let this become stronger than me. I won't let it.
So I am going to dust myself off - pick myself back up - move right along.
Every day is a new day.
And I am going to rejoice in those 12lbs that are forever gone.