Sunday, May 17, 2009

This hurts, but...'s time to start this.

I'm fat and I'm miserable. I hate the fact that I put back on all the weight I lost 2 years ago, and I hate myself for being so damn weak. I am careening out of control again, and I feel like at any moment I'm going to hit the curb, flip and roll over the cliff. At times, sadly, that sounds like the best alternative for my life. 41, no job or real viable career, divorced, disabled, unattractive, unwanted and unloved. The weight has always been there as an issue. More than that, it's a metaphor for my life. It's everything I should accomplish, yet somehow or for some reason don't. It is the illustration of the failure that is my life.

I am okay with calling myself a failure at this point, mostly because it's quantitatively true. It's not a measure of me as a personality; I know I'm a good and worthy person. But I have not accomplished nearly as much as I should with my life. The weight is just there as a big fat exclamation mark on that sentence.

I must take up this challenge. If I don't, I'm gonna die way too early, unfulfilled and unhappy, and I don't want that. I don't deserve that. I can't let that happen.

Today is Sunday, and I make vegetarian sausage egg & cheese biscuits & hash-brown pucks for breakfast. I usually have 2 of each. Today I had 2 hash-browns but one biscuit. Even the small effort is *something*. I've been doing a bit better with the food lately, but honestly, I think I may need to go back to eating a near-vegan diet. That and cut the fat and simple carb out. Peanut butter has to go; I can't stay in control with that stuff around. I finished the small jar I had, only to find that EX had packed a large remnant tub in with some of my things. I'm pretty sure I'm just going to throw it out. Hate to waste, but I know damn well that if it's after 8pm and it's in the flat, I'm gonna eat it. Exercise control wherever I can, even if it's throwing something away while I feel strong enough to do so in order to protect myself from myself when I feel weak later on.

Exercise is next. I MUST start walking again. And moreover, I need to swim. It was without question the best exercise for me. $4 a swim though. For someone with no money, that's a killer. The Parks and Rec department here say that there are scholarships available. I think I'm going to apply. Even if I can get the rate cut in half, that'd help. I'd like a year pass. I'd like to just make that my full-time job for a while. Drop 30 in a few months--I can do that. I just need to try. I'd feel like I did a few years ago; capable, healthier, more attractive, less dead--inside and out.

I'll pursue that scholarship thing, but in the meanwhile I think I'll go scout which rec center I want to go to regularly. I hate the namby-pamby water aerobics classes for older ladies. I like shallow water best--my disability plus all this weight makes deep water aerobics too damn hard. Shallow lets me get in there and really hammer--really pound and I don't need to worry about tripping and falling, sweating and overheating, being too far from the bathroom and all that biz. It's the perfect exercise environment for me. I just need to start. Like this blog. I just need to start.

I just need to start.

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