It has almost been a year and I am literally almost the same weight as when I began.
This is really my own fault. I worked really hard and got to a place where I couldn’t imagine not working out, but then got really, insanely discouraged because even with the hard work I could break the barrier of 200 lbs. Now I know why with the diagnosis, and I have the pills so hopefully help with it, and I think it’s doing well. I just haven’t started working out again yet.
Why? Making myself start and doing it by myself is really really hard. To be honest, I know I have to do it, but I’m fighting a case of the, “I just don’t want to.” I feel like I’m busy and tired and taking care of the kids and just a million more (I mean, kind of good) excuses. I feel like I’ve earned my sit down time at the beginning and end of my day. I know these attitudes are defeatist and self serving.
I need a fire. I need a kick in the ass. I need someone to just come over and say, “we’re going to go walk/run/whatever right now.” Ass kicker isn’t “ass-kicking” at the moment and most of the other groups on the island I just haven’t fully let myself join or they don’t have the facilities to help with my childcare needs.
I feel down. I feel out. I feel fat.
And these cookies are so good.