Mirror, Mirror on the Wall…

You are my worst enemy, but also my best friend…

My worst enemy because you are a reminder of all of the bad choices I’ve made in my life thus far.  You show me my true self, not as my mind perceives me, but as my eyes do.  You cut me deep when I feel progress and then I’m shocked into reality.  When I congratulate myself when my jeans feel looser, you are there to knock me down, only to remind me that I am still a fat ass, and regardless of what progress I’ve made, I still have a really long way to go.  You are the cause of many nights that I can’t sleep because I’m busy thinking about how life would have been if I had  made different, better choices.  Your images are there when I’m on the treadmill huffing it at 3.3 mph fighting my way towards my 5k goal each day, and a slim person jumps on the treadmill right beside me and goes full force 10 mph or higher — your images show me just why I’m limited.  The pictures you show me haunt me.  When I’m getting ready to go out with my friends and I feel better, pretty for once — one glance into your abyss and I’m reminded of why I’m here — how I got here and how much of a journey it will be to make you reflect what I feel inside.  You’ve lowered my self esteem for many years — as far back as I can remember.

Yet you’re my best friend.  You never lie to me.  Your images are always true.  You’re there to remind me of the bad decisions I’ve made so that I can be reminded of reasons not to make them again.  When you cut me deep when I feel progress, I’m reminded of the last time that I fell off the wagon because I celebrated too soon — I didn’t use your images to keep me on track.  So, now you’re here to keep me focused.  When I’m on the treadmill feeling like my hard work is pointless, your images show me what the scale sometimes can not — muscle is denser than fat.  The pictures you show me, haunt me in order to keep me from going backwards, from falling off of the wagon, you keep me motivated.

You are a sweet serendipity.  I know that I must perceive your message in the right way in order for me to be successful, THIS TIME.  I will have you as my best friend, I welcome you fully and with open arms.


I’m one of you… I swear…

338.2 – 22.4 pounds lost.

Lately I’ve been more ashamed of my weight than I’ve probably ever have been in my entire life.  I guess now that I’ve gotten my eating habits under control.  I realized how much I ate unnecessarily.   I would start my day off with Chick Fil A and end it with Chipotle.  Shoveling unneeded calories down my trap every day.  How was I so disillusioned that I thought that was ok?  Why didn’t anyone who loved me, stop me and say WTF are you doing to yourself.  It’s like they are afraid to hurt my feelings.  Would they rather me end up dead?

I’ve picked up on subtle looks from people when I order something like a salad and hold the croutons and ask for light or fat free dressing.  Or when I’m out with friends at a bar and I order a turkey burger with no bun and hold the fries.  I get looks like, “Really, why even bother?”.  I want to scream out to them and let them know that I’m reconstructing my life.  That really, I’m one of them — I’m a part of the fit club, I just haven’t reaped all of the benefits of it yet.  I feel judged and I feel like I have a big sign on my back that says “Laugh at me, I think I can lose 200 pounds”.

What if I fail at this?  What if I gain everything back like I did last time?  I don’t think I could handle it to be honest.  Maybe that’s how I know that I will be successful this time?  Because I know that failure, this time only, is NOT an option.  If I go back to that place, where I had given up hope, or back to that place where I just figured I was meant to be fat for ever — I don’t think I could live like that anymore.

And so I go on… secretly wishing to be a part of the slim kids club.  Silently pleading to them to admit me early — before my outsides matches my insides.