sigh. dieting. sigh.

so the scale says i’m up half a pound. i hate it when it goes in the wrong direction, even if it’s a small amount like this. joe says not to worry about half a pound and that it could be the muscle building up from all the working out i’ve been doing. what do you all think?


this diet thing is really frustrating me. my scale says i’m losing weight yet my clothes seem to be fitting tighter. joe says it’s all in my head. it might be. but it’s depressing me. i just want to be thin again.

one more thing

according to the calorie need calculator i should be eating 1,845 calories a day. so i guess i’ll try that for the next week or so and see what happens.

i give up

i’m on my…what…third exercise program, i’m dieting like crazy and what happens? i gain weight. yep. i’m up three pounds. 159. i’m frustrated. very frustrated. every time i work out and diet i gain weight. i really don’t understand it. maybe i’m just not meant to lose weight. i don’t know. i’m going to go cry now.

mmm . . . starbucks . . . coffee

mocha light frap no whip
119 calories
oh how i love starbucks

rambling thoughts

joe and i just got through with a long, and at times heated, discussion of our workout goals and frustrations, and now i’m lost in my thoughts. my mind keeps wandering back to the past, no matter how much i try to stop it. but it makes sense. after all, that’s where it all began and what’s given me the mindset i have today.

i’ve always been heavy. couple that with a very uncool wardrobe and you’ve got a winning combination. i wanted to be thin. i wished i could wear the designer clothes that the popular kids wore. but i wasn’t, and i couldn’t, and the ball started rolling.

eighth grade was probably the year that scarred me the worst. i had my group of friends, classmates who didn’t care how i looked or what i wore. they liked me for me. but the majority didn’t. i went from being referred to as “she” to “it.” “hey, it’s it!” classmates would say when the saw me. “what do you want, it?” i always liked school, but that year i didn’t want to go. i didn’t have the motivation. i didn’t have the courage.

when my parents told me we were moving to tennessee after my eighth grade graduation i was upset at first. i had a few close friends i didn’t want to leave. but as i thought about it more, i figured i could make a fresh start. i could go to a high school where i wasn’t known as an “it.” maybe i could build back a little more of my self-esteem.

high school started off fine, but i soon found that things were the same there as they had been in maryland. i guess kids are the same everywhere. if you’re not a size six with a wardrobe of clothes from the gap and banana republic, you just aren’t good enough. at least that’s how i felt. that’s how i was treated. i was still heavy and growing more and more self conscious every day. i was sick of being made fun of. i was sick of being mocked and ridiculed. i was sick of hanging out with my family on saturday nights because i wasn’t “cool” enough or “hot” enough to get a date. hell, the only banquets i went to were the ones where the girls had to ask the guys. my self-esteem dropped lower.

enter college. i think, surely things will change now. college students aren’t as superficial as high school and junior high students are. i was wrong again. at least i think i was, and i probably always will. by that point i was so shy i barely got up the courage to knock on the door of the newspaper office my freshman year to get on the staff. i wouldn’t talk to people i didn’t know very well. i sat in the back of all my classes hoping no one would notice me. if they didn’t then they wouldn’t make fun of me. they wouldn’t ostrasize me.

i gained more weight in college. i only had one boyfriend for the first four years (i finished in six because i started working full time my junior year). and really, i’d lost any motivation. my self-esteem was shot. i knew i wasn’t good enough and i probably never would be.

but then i had a breakthrough. after my first year working as a journalist my mom forced me to join a weight loss program. i was angry at first, but looking back i’m so glad she did. it took me a year, but i went from a size 12 to a size 4/6, depending on where i shopped. i quickly learned to shop at bass more because i could always wear a 4 and a small. it did wonders for my self-esteem. i finally felt like i looked good, like i was worth something.

my mind’s run the gamut tonight as i’ve been thinking about what i need to do to at least get back to a size 6/8. i’ve gotten back up to a 10, and i know i need to do something about it. and i will. and maybe the anger that i’m feeling right now will be just what i need to push my motivation over the edge. that and the fact that i am loved unconditionally by the most wonderful man in the world, a man who always thinks i’m gorgeous and sexy, a man who makes me a better person, a man who i know i want to spend the rest of my life with.i’m always going to struggle with my weight. it’s going to be hard. but i can do it. i will do it. i won’t be an “it” again.