It’s finally happened. I’ve finally hit the breaking point with my weight.
After vehemently avoiding the scale for 2.5 weeks, and eating a steady diet of stovetop macaroni and cheese, grilled cheese, sweets and soda, I finally decided I needed to stop avoiding the unavoidable. The number on the scale, gobsmacked me. 230lbs.
I, never, ever in my life, thought I would see that number on a scale. I have been stuck fluctuating between 215lb-228lbs for the last year and a half, but the number never went above the 220’s.
Now, it finally has. I have no excuse. I don’t work out, I live an incredibly sedentary lifestyle, eat terribly and now the results of my bad choices have finally caught up to me. I wish I could blame my weight on ignorance of not knowing how to eat correctly, but that wouldn’t be true. I wish I could blame it on an unsupportive family, but that is also not true. I have to blame it solely on myself. I made myself this way. No one else did.
I have had and partaken in almost every weight loss opportunity ever, but yet, the love and emotional comfort of eating food, won every single time. I’m at the age where the serious consequences of abusing my body in this fashion, are going to begin to rear its’ ugly heads. I feel I have no self-discipline and the biggest sugar addiction known to man.
I know I can lose the weight because I’ve done it before, but laziness and lack of will-power is keeping me from doing it again.
I don’t want to die early. I don’t want to hate the sight of my body anymore. I don’t want to hide myself away from the world because of what I look like. I want to get better. Today is the day, I begin to get better.
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