I am flawed. This is something I have grown to accept. I will never be perfect no matter how hard I try. There will be days I fall off the wagon, days I don’t want to exercise, and days that I don’t want to and won’t log every bite of food I eat.
I get depressed. There are times when I get depressed and can’t see my way clear to eat anything, and times when I get depressed and want to eat everything in sight.
I get angry. Angry at myself, angry at the world, angry at people who know how to eat. I get angry that I can’t always eat what I want to eat when I want go eat it, and angry that I have to wake up at the buttcrack of dawn to sweat my ass off. But mostly, I’m angry at myself for letting my weight get this bad.
I am jealous. Jealous of people who know how to eat, and people who have taken the weight off and kept it off.
I am afraid. Afraid that when I lose the weight I’ll somehow screw it up, and will wind up even worse than I am now.
I’m tired. Tired of people telling me how I should lose my weight, and giving me their “good” advice.
I’m introspective. When all else fails, I disappear into myself to figure out what’s wrong. Today is an introspective day. I’m moody and have already cried once today for no good reason. Guess it’s time to tune out for a couple of hours and figure out what’s wrong.