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Diariesofafatass.com

Six hundred or ten pounds

2/1/2017

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Picture
This photo is of one pound of fat. It's easy to get discouraged about not losing quickly enough or see the progress we want to see. When you feel down about a low weight loss, think of this photo. Think of what a one pound tube of hamburger looks like. I lost 1 1/2 pounds this week. I felt good and bad about it at the same time. I know I'm capable of more. I got my steps in nearly every day this week and ate fairly well, but on the other hand: I drank 3 different days this week. There was nothing crazy there, but still liquid calories are the worst. If I hadn't drank, I would've been over two pounds for sure. It's all about balance, I know. I'm going to drink. I'm going to have my Friday night dinner. It's all about moderation. My life is so different from what it was a few short months ago. I am proud of myself for being aware of where I could do better. I'm also proud of realizing what I'm doing right. I am doing a lot right.  The weight loss feels like it has slowed down so much, still I'm reminded I'm on the right path by my clothing. The jeans the girls say my butt looks good in (that I purchased on NYE) are now falling off of me tonight. It's all about the bigger picture. I will be so happy to get to that next pant size. It's a size that's so much closer to being human.

I'm watching My 600 Pound Life right now. I could never watch this show before. Who can relate to that? How could anyone do that to themselves? It's so fucking sad. In all actuality, I think most of us can relate to what the people on this show are going through. They have a lot of the same issues that those of us with food issues have, whether our issues be large or small. I know I've mentioned this on the blog before, but I think of a good friend of mine and her fear that she will end up like her aunt. When her aunt passed away, they had to cut out the side of her house to remove her. My friend is not really big. She's working on weight loss, but it's nothing at all like her fears. The thing is, it would be easy to do...life can be really hard sometimes, really hard. How nice would it be just to escape with food. To know the joys of feeling full? But thankfully, we have our feet on the ground, and we know there are limits. We can feel joy from so many other things than food. Even in our darkest days, we know there are things to live for. If you haven't seen this show, I do recommend it. The reasoning behind some of the choices they make, the logic: it hits home. It's also an awesome reminder, that we don't want to ever get to that place. We don't want to feel that surgery is our only hope of feeling human again.

Today the anxiety has been in my chest and stomach. It doesn't happen all that often, but I still get it. I feel weak and pathetic even writing that out, but that's what I experience. I've been good about walking Jesse once I get home from work. I freeze my fucking ass off, but we get it done. That was the plan tonight. Unfortunately the brown rice took waaaayyy longer than I expected, to cook. I wasn't able to get out like I wanted. I tried to get what I could out of walking the house as things cooked. When I went to pick Cal up from swim, I got some steps in even though he was ready (early) when I walked into the school. I put my needs first, which rarely happens and got a few steps in. I decided it was too late to take Jesse out when I got home, and I had planned on having some wine tonight. I'll drink my 253 calories, and I won't feel bad about it. The butterflies have left my stomach and chest. I've finally relaxed. I had a nice dinner, which was much healthier than it could've been. I made Loco Moco for the family. For myself, I just had the same thing, minus the meat. I had brown rice, topped with an over easy egg, brown gravy and a bunch of spring mix salad with yogurt ranch dressing (now my favorite dressing). The brown gravy has much more sodium than I like to take in, but I used it sparingly.  Anyway, I'll probably end up with my 10k steps by the time the night is over. I don't like being this close, without achieving my 10k goal. Yes, I'll be the crazy bitch pacing her house until her fitbit buzzes, and I fucking love it.

I've really been missing friends and family lately in a huge way. In some ways, it feels like Maui was just a couple of months ago and in other ways, it feels like a lifetime. I've been thinking about Maui a lot this week. I so loved seeing everyone. I so loved feeling like a human even at the weight I was, when I swam with the turtles. I love the way my brother-in-law treated me as if I was still some athlete, getting me in the water to snorkel for the first time. I love that Melinda and I were able to experience swimming with the turtles together. Again, I felt human and was treated as such. The wedding was ten months ago. No wonder I miss everyone so. Also, I miss my friends so much. I know this sounds strange, because I am the worst at keeping in touch....I can't explain it...but I really do miss them, even if I've dropped off the face of the earth. Tonight brings tentative plans to see the bff. I've missed her, too.  Maybe one of these days, I'll actually be able to pick up the phone when I think of people. Here's hoping that as each pound (again see photo) comes off, I get a little piece of myself back.

Oh, by the way....how come therapy seems to make the 600+ pound person so much better after just one session? I've got years into this shit. Ha!

Hope you are all doing well. I really felt the need to write tonight, if only to tell you: keep at it. Every fucking pound matters. If you need that reminder, save this picture or google what a one pound difference looks like. I'll take my 1 1/2 pounds. I earned it. It all starts with one pound or ounces in some of my cases. It all counts.

I'll leave you with a song that a friend of mine sent me the other day. I'm certainly not going to get political on here, but apparently this song was sung at many of the women's marches the day after the inauguration. This song can have meaning in so many different ways. It's quite powerful. Hope you like it.

~Jen
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    Jen

    Age 47
    Married 24 years
    2 boys, 18 & 15
    email: diariesofafatass@gmail.com


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