Hubby stuck with me yesterday, which was really nice. We're both such enablers, and when we're not on the same page things go downhill quickly.
I managed to stay around 1100 calories yesterday, which is pretty good considering I can sometimes take in an entire day's worth of calories in one binge. I've had lots of coffee, which I know isn't good, but it's helping to keep the belly satisfied and the sweet tooth at bay. Until we can afford to go on a grocery splurge we're having to get by on what's already in the house. As of this morning, the only fruits and veggies left are in the freezer or in cans, and I'm a spoiled brat...I like my fresh goodies
Things just suck so much since we've slacked off on taking care of ourselves. The kids are kind of wound up, and Tyler is screwing up in school again. Hubby and I are arguing more than we have in two years, and neither one of us are sleeping properly. I'm having more aches and pains than usual, and the fibromyalgia is definitely making itself more noticeable lately. I know I can't blame ALL these things on our diet, but I do blame a lot of it on diet and lack of exercise.
I wish there was a 24 hour TV station that played nothing but reruns of The Biggest Loser, and that BBC show You Are What You Eat. Those kinds of shows really get us fired up and motivated to do better for the day. We need it on in the background at all times. Some of the transformations really get me all weepy. I know what it's like to be the fattest girl in the room. I know how it feels to be so hyper-aware of every single part of your body at all times. "My fat bulge is showing...tug the shirt...hunch the shoulders and hide the breasts...that guy is staring at me...he must think I'm hideous...stand up taller; taller girls look less fat...tighten the jaw to shrink that chin fat...don't cross the legs, it makes the calves thick...walk lightly so you don't shake the floor...tug the shirt again to hide the big ass..."
Ugh, it just never stops.
We want to join a gym, but I can't imagine joining a place where OTHER people will see me work out. OTHER people will see me as the sweaty, out of breath fat girl, desperately trying to keep up with the 3 mph setting on the treadmill. I can't even manage to let my husband see me like that.
Even after 13 years of seeing each other naked; KNOWING that he knows every part of my body, I still can't feel comfortable being nude in front of him. I hide under a blanket or a towel or behind a pillow. How depressing.
When am I going to "get it?" When I'm wheeled into the emergency room with some stranger pounding on my chest to bring me back from a heart attack?
I KNOW I'm not this fat girl. It's not me in the mirror. My skin doesn't match who I am, and it's the most claustrophobic feeling. All this fluff and bulge and extra Krystal...it's just time for it to go.
I'm sorry this got so long. If you're still reading, thank you
