I knew even before I stepped on the scale this morning that I wasn't going to reach my goal for the week. You know how you just feel that your body hasn't changed much? Sigh. I am so tired of seeing the 280s, yet as I reflect on the past week/month, I realize that my diet has had a lot to do with the plateau I've been on. While I've managed to stay consistent on the exercise front, I've been slipping in my diet. Granted, I'm pleased that Carlos and I have been able to refrain from eating out, but lately I've been preparing meals with meat and a lot of oil, so it's no wonder I'm having a difficult time shedding these pounds. Admittedly, I haven't been counting calories, either.
It's time for me to be honest with myself. I know what I have to do to lose weight, yet I'm not doing it. I think it's partly because the "you-look-so-thin" comments from my husband and personal trainer are causing me to get lazy, and also that, subconsciously, I fear losing weight. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I've been overweight practically my entire life. "The diet" has become such a huge part of who I am that I fear I won't know how to cope with no longer having to worry about diet plans, start and end dates, and weight loss goals. That's uncharted territory for me, and I'll admit that it's scary--like having a part of you die. I've allowed this weight issue to consume me as a person--so much so, that I really don't know the person lying beneath. Stripping away all the extra fat, physcially and emotionally, will force me to see myself for who I am, and that makes me feel very uneasy. What will I do when I no longer have to worry about losing weight? I realize that this is a process--for some it's purely a question of calories in, calories out--but for me this is an emotional journey. I've been in an abusive relationship with food since I started dieting at 13, yet for as much as I know how unhealthy the relationship is, I struggle to break free.
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