So, I missed last week’s check-in for a variety of reasons. I did receive the 2nd COVID-19 vaccine on Saturday. I also felt bleh on Sunday. AND I was also at 245 pounds. So, I admit, I threw a pretty awesome pity party. Well, I am still standing at the precipice looking at the 230s but still firmly at 241.8 pounds (81.2 pounds released). While I CHOSE not to actively release weight for several months because I helped my parents out, I have been trying to shove some of these stubborn pounds off my @$$ and out the door for a couple of months. And, I keep finding the same 10 pounds. They keep coming home after I free them! I give them permission to be free-roaming pounds, but they keep coming home. I know how these parents felt as they were suing to get their son to leave home.
I know I have been battling Brunhilda and losing. I completely admit that ice cream as wandered into my home and shoved itself down my mouth. And other sweet treats and bread…lots of bread. I really love bread. Have I said I really love the fluffy, duffy white bread with no nutritional value but has all the YUMS? Because I do. (I am not asking for tips or suggestions, this is me being transparent and accountable.)
So, while I have been doing lots of redecorating (with the expert design eye of one of my best friends), I have been doing a lot of thinking about why I am happily sabotaging myself. I wrote before my fears about seeing my fat armor slowly melting away and being seen by other people in ways in which I am not comfortable. I am also facing some pretty huge milestones.
When I reach my next goal of 235 pounds, I will have surpassed my half-way point of releasing 85 pounds (238 pounds). And in my next goal of 212 pounds, I will reach 100 pounds released. Don’t even start me on the fear and excitement of reaching Onederland. There is a lot of comfort in being fat. (A lot of health issues too.) But there is a lot of self-shame in admitting the numbers I need to walk off my body. 85 pounds is a huge amount of weight. For many people, this would be the final goal and a great goal. For me, it is half-way. And I have much further to go. I am hoping once I get past these milestones, it will be easier. I can see that I am heading towards a finish line. But right now, I feel that I am at the turn-around point, and I see a huge hill I need to climb because I was walking downhill all this time. The mental battle is the hardest part of getting healthy. I think I need to find a different suit of armor.
In the meantime, here are some photos of my redecorating efforts. The changes have made my space feel so open, light, and me! Yes, I admit it. I am an anachronistic soul. Until later, remember that while someone may seem fine on the outside, you don’t know what they are going through, So, please be kind, especially to yourself. The photos on the top are the before, bottom the afters.