19F 5'9" SW: 260 CW: 220-ish GW: 160
Hey everyone. I don't really have anyone to speak to about this in my personal life, and I've been a lurker here for years so I figured now would be the best time to start talking.
I've been on a few weight loss journeys before, losing 10-20lbs before going back to my old ways and slowly putting the weight back on. In March, however, when I had to leave college to move back in with my parents, I decided that I was going to lose the weight once and for all. I started doing IF (first with 14:10, now technically 16:8 though it usually comes out to be 20:4) and have tracked my calories for a good chunk of this journey.
At first, the weight came off without a problem. I found it easier to change my diet when in lockdown, and just kept track of it so I knew I was on the right path. After the first 25 pounds, I still didn't notice any difference in my body but didn't think anything of it. I knew it would take some time for me to see any substantial changes in my appearance so I kept with it. I hit a rough patch of just maintaining instead of losing (purely due to my own negligence in counting calories) over June/July, and I realised I was slipping again. At the end of last month, I pulled myself together and started diligently counting calories again.
At this point, I've lost about 40 pounds total, and still don't see much. Any difference in pictures could easily be explained by the fact that I wear really baggy clothing. If there's any difference I can see, it's minimal. I also want to acknowledge that there's a very real possibility that I just don't see my body the way others do. No one around me has pointed out my weight loss yet, so I guess that just adds to insecurity. Because I've mostly only been around my parents for the past few months, they have a similar perspective to me, I guess.
I'm trying not to let this affect me, but it's hard. I don't want to keep looking in the mirror to see the same girl that wasn't taking care of her body. I look at myself and I still see the person who could eat two cans of pringles in a day, still eat her normal-sized meals, and not exercise. She will always be a part of me, but I am trying to do better. I wish the mirror would reflect that.
I had to realise that weight loss doesn't happen in a vacuum, too. I hoped that I could separate my health journey from my family life, and avoid letting one affect the other. It turns out that living with your parents (especially after having not lived with them for a while) and trying to get in shape is a bit difficult. Moving back home felt like I was inhabiting the space of the person I was in the past; that comes with all of the emotions and encounters of the past, too. My family is not perfect, no family is. But every time conflict arises, I feel myself wanting to fall back into old habits for comfort. I can usually resist temptation, but I have lost full days to my own emotions before. I know this isn't healthy. This entire post could be summed up with 'you need to go to therapy.' In my current situation, therapy just isn't an option. I plan to go when I find a way to, though.
I don't know where I was going with this post. Maybe I'm hoping someone will reassure me that I'll see the progress eventually. Maybe I'm hoping that there are others like me out there, who are struggling to find the motivation to keep going on their journey. I wish I knew how to end this on a positive note, I don't like how much of a bummer this post has been. yikes
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