So I can’t help but to sound like such a whining bitch about this but it’s true. The more posts I read and the more success stories I hear the more I want to just lash out and punch them in the face. The big giant green face of jealousy comes out and I want to break down and cry. Why can’t it be me? Why can’t I be losing weight so easily and why can’t I get up off of my ass and make it happen. What is keeping me from being happy, finding a new love and finding the perfect pair of jeans again?! I get anxious everytime I think about a new diet or I decide to start a new attitude and begin my diet over again. I get anxiety when people tell me I can do it and give me overwhelming support. I just can’t take it. It’s like the butterflies in my stomach are trying to come out and scream at me to do it! Look at your support-you can do this! The only think holding you back is you.
Someone had mentioned a quote that another member had left on a post somewhere and if I remember correctly, it went something like this:
“In a year, you’ll wish you had started today”
That quote touches me and I know that because I think now about the times in the past, years and years ago, that I told myself I was going to do something and had full intentions on doing so and then never did. Now here I am, sitting here pissed at myself for not doing it then because I sure am wishing I had. I am 22 years old! I should be out partying and shopping for cute clothes and wearing my heels everywhere I can. I miss my heels. Oh how I miss my beautiful shoes. They hurt my feet then but far less then they do now. My feet are so swollen now that I have dificulty finding flip flops that fit just right. Everytime I see a picture of me in a group photo at someones party or birthday or whatever, I just want to scream. Even now, I don’t feel big. I know I am but for some reason, my eyes only see me as the old 30 inch waist-that is until I look in the mirror. I want to be able to lose this weight finally so I can grow up, find the love of my life, have kids and having amazing SEX! Yes, I said SEX. I want to have sex again. Amazing, loving, passionate, and meaningful sex again.
I’m tired of feeling sorry for myself anymore and fishing for compliments from people whom I know are only giving them because they feel sorry. I hate to say it but I miss people being jealous of ME! I miss friends almost feeling bad about themselves because I am so confident in my hourglass curves and strutting my tight ass jeans around! I miss it! I MISS it. I know it’s my insecurity that misses it but none the less, I miss it so much it hurts. It hurts my chest when I try to run. It hurts my feet when I stand for too long. It hurts my back because my chest is too big and my bras don’t fit right. It hurts my knees when I try to jump. It hurts my stomach when I try to bend over without bending my knees. It hurts my thighs when I try to crouch and it hurts my neck to try to turn to look at something because my skin folds over like a taco. It hurts to have to cut in to the seams of shirt sleeve in order to get them to fit around my arms. It hurts to have to wear a long shirt so that no one notices my button on my pants isn’t in fact buttoned, nor is my fly up. It hurts to wear a clean pair a pants for an entire day before I plan on wearing them, just to stretch them out. It hurts to try to lift my knees to my chest again in order to ease my cramps. It hurts to run up all 13 of my steps and be out of breath. It hurts that I can feel the ground shaking when I walk from the bathroom to my desk at work. It hurts that I can hear the floor creak when I step on it. It hurts my fingers to type this quickly with all the things that hurt because it is endless. ENDLESS. Weight is horrible and it’s even more horrible that I let myself get here. That I succumed to food and given up on myself.
Well…no more. I am done with my family poking fun at me. I’m done with getting stares from people when I cant fit in to the go karts with my neice and I’m done having people snicker while I huff my ass from the parking lot to the doors of my work. I’m done!