I was so mad at myself and this fat that I HATE. I peeled off the too-tight clothes, threw them on the bed, changed into my usual ratty, stained, every day wear, didn't go to church--but headed for the kitchen to get something to eat.
How stupid is this? I hate myself and I hate this fat, but still I go to the cupboard to grab some cookies, finish off the bag of potato chips, eat a handful of mini Reese's. I'd already had two pieces of cinnamon toast and a small plate of macaroni salad for breakfast, so here it is not even noon yet, and I'm way, way, way over my calories for the day.
I don't know if it would do any good to just say I'm starting over again at noon today, and try to eat within calories, disregarding whatever damage I did with my eating this morning.
I've been hypothyroid (and on medication for it) for ten years. In that time, I've either stayed the same or gained. I've never been able to lose more than maybe four or five pounds, and even then, it doesn't stay off for long.
At this time I'm so disgusted, frustrated, and discouraged that I don't think I'll ever be able to stick to any kind of eating plan, even something as relatively simple as merely counting calories. I also figure, what's the use, I probably won't lose anyway.
Has anybody here ever started out so discouraged you could barely start over again, but then went on to be able to lose down to a normal weight? I don't even care about "thin". I'd just like to be healthier and able to move around better.
This is what I feel like today










