I was a chubby child... our whole family was. When I was 10-11, my Dad was diagnosed with meneare's disease, and was having vertigo attacks almost daily, and was beginning to lose his hearing. So... our whole family went on the Atkin's diet... in order to help my Dad.
We all lost weight. And that was where I really began fighting it all... I didn't want to do it if I had to do it. I wanted my chocolate, my cookies, etc. So, I would sneak and buy them anyways. But I still lost weight, and when we stopped doing Atkins... I really did look and feel great... at age 11.
Fast forward a year. I had gone back to my old eating habits... or I guess you could say my normal eating habits... and gained weight. I would still occasionally come up with this diet or that... but never really stuck to anything.
The time I remember REALLY starting to try and diet was in 9th grade. I was 200 lbs at that time... and oh... I will never forget the shame of stepping onto that scale in front of the PE teacher, the father of a good friend of mine... and a friend of the family... and having him read out "205 pounds" to me.

I began trying to lose weight... I tried a no meat diet, all meat diet, cutting out sugar, cutting out this or that... and... I would do so... for a maximum of three weeks... and then... it was gone.
I believe that around the age of 15 I had actually managed to get down to 180... and then the scale crept back up again... to around 210.
Last year I joined this forum at around 215. I got down to 203... and then... it just stopped. I had such a passion... and then... I didn't. Or... something. I really don't know... and I'm still trying to figure it out.
I tried again... 225 (at my heighest, I believe I put down 220 on here)... got down to 205... I can't believe I lost that much... and I was looking forward to losing more... I was so excited, so... there... so happy... so eager...
And... here I am. A month later, 213.5 as of yesterday morning... feeling horrible.
I'm 18. I should be out living and enjoying my life... not worrying about whether clothes fit me, whether I can do the things I want to do, whether or not I can fit in the seats at amusement parks, etc etc.
But... maybe I'm scared of losing the weight? I really don't know.
All I do know is that I hate this... and I feel as though I will never do this...



I'm gonna make myself a cup of iced coffee here though... I have some yummy Brazilian Bourbon stuff that I really should drink at some point.