I feel like the scale and I are arch nemeses. I have literally started to think of it as this creature that is against me, that sets out every day to foil my success and happiness. Every morning when I pull it out, I have this moment where I’m like, “Alright scale, you sonofabitch, are you going to cause trouble today??” And indeed it does, because I have been ridiculously good on my diet and every day the same damn number stares me back in the face. 127.0. It’s so final, there’s no jaunty swaying back and forth like an analog scale. “HEY KATE!! Maybe you’re 128…or maybe you’re 126, but who cares?
” My new digital scale is incredibly stern-faced and unforgiving. “NO. You’re 127.0. Get used to it.”
I’ve been 127.0 for two days. Before that, I spent three days at 127.2. Now, when you’re stuffing your face with bland chicken and vegetables, passing up every sweet treat that comes your way, just saying no to bread and salty snacks, that’s a painful feeling. The problem with getting on the scale and weighing 127.0 AGAIN is that it’s an excruciating and interminable 24 hours until I get back on the scale and try to beat my score. So I just have to bide my time throughout the day, waiting impatiently for my chance at a rematch between me and the scale, during which time it’s sitting there in the bathroom probably laughing a very sinister laugh at me.
You may have won this round, Mr. Scale, but I’ll be back tomorrow.
Jun 18, 10:09AM PDT | 0 comments
In the past few years, my self confidence has taken a nose-dive. I’m not really sure what the problem is. It’s basically rooted in my upbringing, and my relationships have never helped much. It feels like it’s coming to a head now, and I’m starting to feel like as though I’m on the verge of becoming a recluse because of it. I’ve always attributed a lot of it to my weight, although you’d laugh if you saw me, because even I know that I’m not very overweight at all – as of today I have 12 pounds to lose, so I’m by no means obese. I’m just not comfortable in my own skin anymore, although I’m not sure I ever was. I’ve become convinced that no one likes me, that I’m awkward with people and that I’m not good at anything, and I think that serves as a self-fulfiliing prophesy.
I’m not quite sure how to turn these feelings around. Trying new things is probably a good idea. I’ve become entrenched in my comfort zone in every aspect of my life, and I can’t seem to push myself to do anything outside of it. I feel so afraid and certain of failure that I don’t do anything. I’m always amazed by people around me who are so confident, they think they can do everything, and I wind up being jealous and spiteful. I wasn’t really brought up to push myself, my family has always been devoted to the status quo of what’s an acceptable way to live your life, and in a way my family has always been very critical of people who do unusual things, so it’s sort of ingrained in me to be afraid of that, because I know I’ll be ostracized.
I’ve also been considering therapy, although that in itself is intimidating. I think I need to find something somewhat small that I’m intimidated by, and force myself to do it. Working through some of these 43 things probably wouldn’t be a bad idea either. They all stare me in the face taunting me, and I think deep down I sincerely feel that I’m incapable of doing most of them.
Jun 15, 11:36AM PDT | 1 cheer | 0 comments
I’ve taken a different approach to losing weight and am back on track now with 13 more pounds to lose.
One thing I always forget about dieting is what a big difference a few pounds makes on both my body and mind. I’m only down a few pounds, but my clothes are fitting a bit better already, and I’ve stopped feeling like such a slob.
The downside is how slowly the days seem to go when I’m dieting.
Jun 12, 08:46AM PDT | 0 comments
I'm doing 43 things
