So, I had a username here before. I don't really want to use it again, because...well, it'll be obvious after I get more into this post.

About three years ago, I decided it was time for a change, and I committed. I lost a hundred and sixty pounds. I did twelve-hundred calories a day. I counted. I exercised. For the most part, I felt better than I had at any point in my life. I applied to graduate school, and got in. For once, I felt as though my life was going somewhere. As though I was in control, and the life that I wanted--namely, the life where I wasn't working a crappy telephone customer service job that was never going to go anywhere--was within my grasp.

I lost that weight in a year and a half. That's when the depression and anxiety hit. It was slight at first. A bit of nervousness here. A crying jag there. It was made worse by my dad having a stroke (tons of stress and emotional baggage) and by moving to grad school (changes like that make me a bit nutty). I tried medication, and that seemed to work for a while. I also started to crave sweets. I fought it for a while. Then I slid. Then I just...gave up.

I've gained almost all of it back. I don't know exactly how much, because my scale, which has been in storage, has decided to mercifully not work. I don't need the scale to know that it's bad, though. It's obvious.

I don't know how to explain it to others. The depression and anxiety I was facing was just awful. Absolutely awful. I wanted to die. I didn't care about anything. If I did manage to care, it was only just enough to make myself say that I'd do it tomorrow. I'd eat better tomorrow. I'd walk tomorrow.

Tomorrow came, though, and it was hard. Breathing was hard. Opening my eyes in the morning was hard. Doing my work and showering and researching and talking to people and generally not being a miserable wreck of a human being was hard-to-nigh-impossible. Eating right? Not falling back on my own addiction, my own weapon of self-harm? That wasn't going to happen.

I started therapy. I tried med after med after med. Nothing work. Then, as suddenly as it came, it lifted. I felt better. I went back on plan without a hitch. Except now I'm back where I started. I'm dealing with this stupid crap again.

It's hard. I hate myself for it, I think, because I did it right and then I screwed it all up. I feel like a failure. Like I can't manage to live my life and be healthy, like I have to choose between the two. I hate feeling like this.

But there's my plan, my routine, as comfortable as though it's always been there. It's something, I guess.

Don't be hard on yourself. It is senseless. And we are not machines. And absolutely do not participate in hatred of yourself. I, too, had lost weight weight in the past and regained all of it plus more. Everyday, I hated myself and asked why I was so lazy, and stupid and disgusting.
It wasn't until I was able to love myself unconditionally, fat, failures, and all, that the pieces fell into place. That simple epiphany came from asking myself one day; If I could trade places with someone else's identity, any one at all, would I? I would lose my thoughts, my likes and dislikes, my philosophies, my British inner monologue voice, and the experiences of all of the things that have dazzled me in life, even all the pieces of music that I have searched my life for to hear. These things are so hard won and if I was a thinner someone else, they would mean nothing to that other person. They are a part of you that is worth keeping above all else. The answer I gave myself was a resounding no. And I was surprised by that.
Love you for you and all the things you have found in your life that you love. They are yours exclusively.

OK, end of that spiel

Perhaps, you hadn't done it right the first time. You may have lost the weight, but there was still a root problem that needed fixing.

I also feel like I have to choose between living and being healthy sometimes. It's irrational. You world does not have to revolve around food if you don't want it to. But it seems to be a lesson that is learned with time and patience and I still haven't quite gotten it down yet. We are all WIP's for our entire lives. So, set yourself up for the long haul.

Let go of the frustration of regaining. Regaining is a rite of passage for folks trying to get to a better lifestyle. So, you're over that hump at least Sometimes the key is to make losing weight and eating healthy FUN for yourself.
People automatically think losing weight and eating less is going to suck. Why? Making grocery lists, or tracking calories, or writing out meals plans that I will NEVER follow... it seems like busy work but it can be fun too. I am one of those people that likes pens, office supplies and making lists even if I don't follow them. It keeps one enthused... and distracted from depression and anxiety.

And do not for one second think that you are back where you started as you described. Time is not circular, at least in our reality. We, as humans, like to add poetic nonsense to physics sometimes. The numbers on the scale might be the same, but it's ALWAYS either a different battle or different facet of one. You did not repeal all your previous progress.

Now go forth and conquer!

Life isn't a cakewalk, there will be hurdles and speed bumps all the way through. But the obstacle course of life is handled so much easier when you're healthy and in shape.

Stop letting food be your comfort blanket. Remember we eat to live, we don't live to eat. It's not rocket science, it's simply calories consumed versus calories burned in a day.

Welcome back! Sending you hugs, honey! You've taken control before, and you can do it again!

I second everything Earthing said! Let the past go, it is already gone. Your future beckons!

I read once that just getting out of bed in the morning is a success for some people. I tell myself that on bad days. When I get a few big things done, I feel all the better. BUT, the corollary of that is that if you don't accomplish something you beat yourself up.
Small victories!