I'm a 3FC veteran. I've been on and off the forum, and on and off the wagon more times than a struggling alcoholic. (A good metaphor, as I think that food addiction is a watered-down version of alcoholism.)
I've struggled with my weight my whole life. I can remember my mother walking in on an 8 year old me, staring naked, and glumly into a mirror. When she asked what I was doing, I remember asking her why only the fat girls in school like me had boobs.
I like food. ...No, I love food. Sometimes I think it's the only thing in my life that gives me real, genuine pleasure. I can lose weight, I've done it before. But to do so, I have to be obsessive. A very wise girl friend of mine pointed out to me once that I have no balance. No happy medium. I'm either bingeing on fast food, or obsessively counting out 1,200-1,400 calories a day. If I'm not being obsessive, I let myself get away with too much.
I haven't been on here in a while, and I haven't looked at my ticker or profile yet to see what my last weight was when I was here. But I do know that I've spent my first summer working full-time at my first real job post-college-- gaining weight. All summer long, I've fallen into toxic habits and laziness and a slight depression that is likely related to my diet, resultant poor appearance, low clothes selection and skin problems. (I've now looked at my previous weight and I'm now 20 lbs heavier than my last update.)
While cleaning off my computer today of unnecessary files, I found a bunch of random videos. I can be a bit of a camera whore, so I wasn't surprised to find stupid pictures and videos of myself. I opened one and it was a 140-poundsish me in fuzzy slipper boots, booty short pj bottoms and a tank top, dancing around my room like an idiot and belting along with a chick song. Can't for the life of me tell you why I recorded that, as based on the room it was in, the video is over two years old. But... Watching that video, my eyes actually welled up with tears. Because I looked so happy, and so pretty, and everything that I don't feel I am right now.
I'm not stupid. I can lose weight. You can hand me any food and I can tell you exactly WHY it's good, or bad, whether it's high in fibre, or hydrogenated fats, or even if the marketing on the package is bull****, because "low fat" doesn't mean they haven't jacked it full of sugar and chemicals.
But... for some reason, the mere idea of trying to get back on the wagon... strikes me as so mentally and emotionally exhausting that I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff strapped to a bungee cord, and all I want to do is take off the harness and go lie down with a Big Mac and my self-loathing.




