I would like to preface this blog post by saying that I am PMSing out of my head today. This post shall contain whining, groaning, and frustration. If you are having a great day, DON’T READ THIS! If you are of the mindset that misery loves company (especially when that company happens to be named Ben and Jerry!) then feel free to proceed. Just know that this is going to be like picking up your big sister’s diary, and being amazed at all the garbage that goes through her head too.
It is 1:27 in the morning as I am writing this. And I am eating.
What are you eating, Charlie? Carrots?
A nice diet conscious treat? Like 94% fat free popcorn?
Pssssshaw. I had that 3 hours ago.
Then what are you eating? A cookie?
One of those Pepperidge farm cakes you so dearly love?
Close. Think out of the box.
CAKE BATTER??????????? HOW COULD YOU????????????
It beats the living daylights out of me. But I was thinking I’m either going to go to the store and purchase something, or find something in my cabinets. I’m too lazy to drive. And I don’t mind saying the only exercise I got tonight was whisking the white cake mix for 2 minutes. Except my arm got tired after a minute, so the batter isn’t as smooth as it should be.
What the heck is wrong with me?
Most likely, it is a case of bottomless pit disease brought on by Aunt Flow impending visit. Don’t worry, my Diva Cup is on standby.
But here’s the kicker. I did really well dieting today! Until about 11pm. And then, when the house got quiet, I started the craving game.
And if you are expecting some inspirational BS here today, you aren’t going to get it. Because I am frustrated with myself, and I feel like I need a swift kick in the fanny. I am so mad I could just spit.
Because it’s no fault of anyone’s but my own. I officially suck at losing weight.
I am not going to say that it’s always been that way, cause it hasn’t. In fact, it seems like just yesterday that the weight was practically sliding off of me. No drugs, no starvation, just good old fashioned diet and exercise.
And you know what? The longer I sit here at my computer and think about things, the madder I get.
(Insert a 5 minute break with high quantities of cake batter comsumption and previous blog post reading here)
OK, I just took a break, and read the first “real” post I ever wrote. Confessions of a dieter. Back in March of LAST YEAR. Apparently I was struggling with the same crap then that I am now.
(Feel free to go back and check it out by clickity clicking here...)
I didn’t realize that until right this second.
Apparently, that first 20 pounds wasn’t any easier then than the next 20 seem to be!
(WHO AM I KIDDING WITH THAT 20 BUSINESS? GIMME A SOLID 10 AND I’D QUIT CRYING ABOUT IT!) (WHO AM I KIDDING WITH THAT “I’D QUIT CRYING ABOUT IT?” hee hee- couldn’t resist that one. We all know better than that!)
Huh. I’m a little bit at a loss for words. And I have set the bowl of cake batter aside. (no, the bowl isn’t empty…)
Why have I been thinking all this time that the first 6 months were so easy for me? That has been 99% of my frustration with myself. I kept wishing that things were like they used to be on the diet.
And apparently, wishes do come true!
OK, I just read the next “real” post I wrote after that last one.
Stuck in the Middle with YOU.
Dang it. I hate it when I read something I penned and it feels like a stranger wrote it.
Where is THAT GIRL? Where is the girl so full of belief in what a woman can accomplish? Why doesn’t she stumble out of my bed, instead of this PMS mongering mess? I especially love the bangs analogy. How true is that? Crap. I have bitten off more than I can chew with this reflection business!
For the record, I am so glad that I have blogged all this whiney-ness. I know it’s annoying to read when it comes up (everybody loves the funny stuff…) but I can’t tell you how helpful this has been to learn about myself!
Tomorrow, I am going to unearth my treadmill, and give myself a half hour goal every day. I’m also going to make my daughters do Fat Girl Yoga with me in the morning. Not because they are fat, but because mommy needs support and accountability. I am also going to re-learn the fine art of “you bite it, you write it.” Because I can’t go on feeling like this. Feeling like a dieting failure.
Failure isn’t for the brave. It’s not for the tenacious. Failure is for the ones who aren’t willing to do what it takes. (medical issues aside, of course) Mentally, I cannot fail. As long as I keep trying, it’s not failure. It’s just a setback.
I am done whining. Thank you for working through this with me. I’m going to take a midol, throw out this d@#m cake batter, and get some sleep. It’s going to take a back hoe to find the treadmill under the laundry. But I CAN do this. I just have to push myself a little more than I like.
Looks like I need to work out plan Q. Pretty sure that’s the letter I’m on.
I love you all, readers. And don’t give up on me yet. This girl’s not going down without a fight.