I ask myself the same questions over and over, all day long, all night long.
How hard could it possibly be to manage these five pounds?
How hard could it possibly be to lose these five pounds?
How hard could it possibly be to keep these five pounds under control?
How hard could it possibly be to eat right so I can lose these five pounds?
I am at the point that I’m watching diet adds. Diet pill adds. I’m thinking of a week of egg-grapefruit days. I’m thinking of fat blockers. I’m thinking of laxatives. I’m thinking of the diet everyone is on at Dr. Haycock’s here in town. People have been losing 30 pounds a month on his ‘medical plan.’ I’m thinking of going to the doctor in SLC who gives those shots a couple times a week to do what? I think it has to do with upping the metabolism. I’m feeling frustrated and desperate.
I’ve been trying very hard to not feel that way. I keep trying to give myself the ol’ pep talk . . . just keep going. Just keep meeting each day with a smile and do your thing and you’ll get it back off. But I keep putting it on, instead. I don’t get through very many days without some kind of blow out.
[I can’t even say my numbers out loud today.]
[Yah. I actually used a rubber band on my pants today after lunch. I looped it through my button hole and then around the metal button thingy.]
[I’m so ashamed.]