So remember those hideous pictures I was telling you about? Well, they’ve got me thinking that it’s time to start growing…er…shrinking in the opposite direction. Since my last extreme diet, I had been yo-yo-ing around a descent weight for about 6 months, going up and down, and for the first 3 months I was just out of control. The last two months, I’ve sincerely tried getting my eating and exercise situation together but it has always been so short lived.
Needless to say the last few moths have been a self-esteem altering roller-coaster. I guess like other phat girls, I feel best about myself when I’m on the low side and worst when I’m on the high. These last months I was definitely all around the spectrum. When Stacy and I got together on V-day, it was a good time for me because I was till basking in my weight lost from the month prior, but as the months have passed, my relationship with Stacy (and my personal esteem) has suffered as I’ve gotten heavier.
Talking about it with my BFF, a fellow phatty, we’ve come to the conclusion that I always feel uncomfortable around Stacy when I’m not feeling great about myself. He says nice things to me and my natural suspicion (you’ll read about this later) makes it hard for me to take him seriously or trust him. Anyway, I think that’s another subject in itself.
On to my current status:
I just can’t take the discomfort anymore. And despite my better judgment, I’m starting to embark on my second extreme affair to rid my body of these few extra pounds that aren’t sitting well with me. I’m not a skinny girl, and I’ll definitely will still be a phatty, but it’ll be a size I’m more comfortable with. I really, truly want to lose weigh the old fashioned way. But right now I’m too impatient and I fear that if I don’t see some changes soon, Im going to set myself in a funk, get depressed and then at that moment, I won’t be able to do anything to help myself.
I’m on Day 5 and I’m not starving but the cravings to eat are awful. I go to the gym when my roommate is cooking because I can’t stand the aroma. It’s OK… just 23 days left.
Sigh. I hate this yo-yo-ing.
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