Without any context at all, here is my calorie and sodium intake from yesterday Calories 4,145 Sodium 12,342 Last time I weighted in at 495 pounds, this week I'm 491. I lost a few. It doesn't feel earned, or deserved. This is not a victory. I believe I have had some kind of fundamental shift, and my weight loss downfall is imminent. I'm just not into it anymore. I guess I know myself pretty well sometimes, don't I? I knew I could not take a walk on the wild side without it sending me into a spiral. It's not just this weekend, although, I truly realized how much I miss food freedom. King for two days it seemed. I'm just exhausted with the road ahead, it's truly never ending. I'm still in the 490s, I'm huge, that's a ton of weight to lose! It's overwhelming, I guess I'd rather be morbidly obese and fat, but able to indulge myself. Than to be spending the next X amount of centuries trying to lose weight, and hating it. I mean I hav...
The lightest I ever recall being was chubby , I remember well because people were already starting to make comments about my growing weight, I don't remember a time before. I believe I was four or five. I don't know what triggered my weight gain, I honestly don't remember picking up bad eating habits until a few years later, but somehow, for some reason, I was gaining weight, while my brothers remained thin. The more I think about it the more confused I become. Somewhere between 3 and four, or 4 and 5. I gained a lot of weight. I remember outgrowing a Reds baseball outfit (or was it Ohio State) that matched one my mom owned. I just remember getting compliments about it, I remember trying it on one day and being unable to fit in it. And then before I knew it, I was overweight. I continued gaining weight. Sometime between 5-7, I had an imaginary friend, a grandmother-like figure whom I always visualized being in black and white like I Love Lucy. I on...
I reckon it's time I finally discuss the big misery topic I've been so vague about the last few weeks. It's pretty much come full circle now, after a lifetime wait I decided to address it. First in therapy, then to two select friends (not the two you might think), and just recently with my mom. Now I suppose I will here. Obviously it took me a very long time to get to this point, but in the past few months I truly realized I wasn't going to truly be happy or make any real progress in terms of my mental health if I kept having to repress who I was around other people, if I couldn't just be myself a little bit more. I started truly realizing how much these things mattered. It's hard enough masking your emotions but masking a whole part of your identity puts an incredible strain on your life, and might be why my depression tends to yoyo so dramatically. Perhaps those days are behind me because finally at 28 I'm ready to be myself, be brave, be honest ...