As a confirmed hater of my own current body issues, I have been having little faith in the ability to drop this weight I've gained over the year. It seems that I can't do it or am making excuses for feeding my face when I'm not hungry, or just overeating. Today I had some vivid memories of crossing paths with a particular "rockstar" (some would say) many years ago, and of being in good shape about a year and a half ago. Good enough shape to wear what I liked and felt fairly comfortable about my shape. I have hit rock bottom with the weight loss game, but my good memories about the body I once had can be had once again, thanks to those old vivid thoughts that came back in my head.
I have to realize that I CAN and WILL be in shape again, for myself, for my own well-being and my own mental health. Not because I want to please my spouse. It's going to take time, and I'm impatient as fuck. It's going to probably take about half the time it took to gain it all. I have to be able to look in the mirror without wanting to scream, cry, and/or throw up. Yeah, I'm hard on myself, but I'm the one that has to be. I can remember that if I did it before, then I can do it again. I can fucking do it again. It's a state of mind that I'll have to work on 24/7, 365 ALONE.
For a little while I messed around with the colour and cut of my hair just to try to take attention away from the rest, but since it didn't work for me, I failed miserably. So, this will mean that I will be writing a bit every day about how I'm progressing, because this is a war that I now refuse to lose. I will beat the fat. I can't make myself younger, but I can make myself look and feel better about some aspects.
Fucking hormones sure as hell don't help, as well as "aunt Flo"'s fucking visits. It's all up to me. I have to allow myself to be "selfish" and get rid of all this sorryass fucking fat.
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