Recently I’ve lost a bit of weight. I’ve never been this thin, except as a child. And while I’m enjoying it and getting to wear smaller clothes and being more comfortable in my body, I still don’t feel thin enough.
I still weigh myself when nobody’s looking. I still try to eat less so I can lose.
And so I wonder — will it ever end?
I’m in the 150s. I look good. I feel good-ish but what happens when I get in the 140s?
I’ll be 40 in February — do I just grow out of this? Probably not because I know friends in their 50s and 60s who still do this.
I mean it’s gotten better. (Has is though?) I still don’t weigh myself in front of the kids, and when we’re eating in front of the kids, I eat healthy things. But they also see me eat candy all the time, and I’m sure they’ve picked up on my disorderly eating even though they’ve never seen me binge. Ugh, I’m such a mess.
I’ve been stressed so much lately so I’ve been craving junk food, candy and comfort food big time. So it’s making me see-saw to the high 150s to the low. Then I stress away and eat light then get stressed again and eat like crap. I’ve had some stressful events at work, but it all worked out in a very awesome way. But more stuff is coming up and now it’s the holidays so I’m assuming I’ll be stressed out until January. Or until I’m dead, so I have to figure out some stress relief that actually works and works long term.
I mean hello, I talk about self care all the time. I gotta walk the walk.
I just wish it didn’t have such a hold on me. Why do I care so much if I “gain” two pounds one morning to the next. I know it’s probably not even a real gain, and you’re not supposed to weigh yourself everyday. I know, I know, I know. But I don’t. So then I lift up my shirt and analyze how much my stomach is sticking out. How well my jeans are fitting. If one metric fails me, there’s always another. And another.
This is torture.
Will it ever end?
Will I ever let it?
