I don't know how to explain how I feel. Some days I just get pissed off at how much effort this all takes...exercising six days a week, counting calories, watching fat, thinking about every bit of food I put in my mouth, beating myself up for screwing up.
I just wish I had a "normal" body and a "normal" relationship with food. I'm not asking to be a size four or six without any effort. I will never be those sizes. I'd be happy to be a size twelve, and weigh around 160 (I am five foot eight). I am so sick of this struggle. I am sick of seeing people around me eat junk food all the time and not gain weight, and not have their life consumed by trying to lose weight. I'm sick of going grocery shopping and seeing thin people with all this crap food in their cart, while I'm buying all healthy low fat food, and I am still fat.
I'm sick of not having enough energy to do what I want to do. I think if I put as much effort into other things, like maybe getting master's degree and getting out of my dead end customer service job, I'd be happier. I can't get myself to concentrate on anything else now, and I am so thoroughly sick and tired.
Okay, enough whining...I ate myself up to this weight. I know that. But why does the journey back down have to be such a struggle?
Sorry for the long rant. Just wondering if anyone else has felt the same way, or has any advice.
I'd better go get some sleep. I've had enough of a pity party for myself tonight
Take care,
Sherry