Friends,
I just wrote this to myself after avoiding doing so for weeks. It's quite long, I fear, but I'm sharing it here in hopes of finding kindred spirits. Maybe some of you have had some of the same thoughts.
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I know what to do.
I’m not doing it.
I’m not even trying to do it.
I’m purposely not trying to do it.
I’ve been observing myself not trying for weeks. Months actually, but there’s been something different in recent weeks.
Maybe because the doc finally mentioned the possibility of blood pressure meds for the first time.
Maybe because my cholesterol is way higher than it used to be.
Maybe because I get out of breath sometimes singing with the kids at school.
Maybe because I had to go to the ER last week with what turned out to be gastritis, and I figured the doc and nurses and techs were thinking that I was fat and I wouldn’t even be there if I was of average weight.
So why?
Why am I not doing anything about it?
I don’t want to.
It’s not fair that I have to.
I’m embarrassed and ashamed of how I look and that I have no one to blame but myself, so I’m punishing myself.
Food is the most common, easiest way I have of comforting myself, and I don’t want to lose it. Oh writing that made me feel anxious; tight in my chest and throat, and the faintest hint of tears on their way.
Is that it?
Is that the main reason I’m just plain not even trying?
I DON’T WANT TO LOSE MY MAIN WAY OF COMFORTING MYSELF.
Because weight loss is hard.
And establishing new habits is hard.
Taking the time for exercise and making meals is hard.
Not eating lounge food is hard.
And I don’t want to say that I’m going to change my eating and exercise habits unless I’m motivated enough to actually do it. I’m tired of “trying” to lose weight. I want to actually do it.
Big sigh.
It’s time.
I’m worth it.
It won’t kill me. The opposite, actually.
I can use the mantra I learned from Kathy S: “There will be cookies (or ice cream, or pizza, whatever the temptation is) in my life another day.”
Or Kathe M: “There is enough sugar in my body.”
Bigger sigh.
OK
Tomorrow I will not eat any of what my friend Jim calls “blatant sugar”.
Nothing very salty either.
And I will walk for 30 minutes, at whatever slow, medium, or fast pace feels right. I will not push myself.
This is not punishment because I’m bad and should be ashamed of myself.
This shows how much I love myself.
Except I don’t.
So that’s another big reason I haven’t been choosing to lose weight.
But buried under 85 extra pounds and a lot of shame is the extremely stubborn voice crying “but I COULD love myself! Let’s have a go at it!!”
So I will. Tomorrow. Easter Sunday.
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If you read all the way through this, thank you.
Warm thoughts to all,
Barb