Bleh.

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I feel like this is the safest place for me to vent my frustrations because, let’s be real, who reads this unkept blog anyway? Unless I share a link on Facebook, I highly doubt there will be more than 5 views. So, I’m just going to write whatever I’m feeling right now.

Currently, I’m frustrated. I’m kind of angry, mostly at myself. And I’m fat.

I’m frustrated because in less than four months, I’ll be saying my “I do’s” in front of a crowd of people and I am nowhere near the weight that I would like to be. In fact, I’ve gained 20 pounds since August. Disgusting. I joke and say things like, “Well, at least we know I’m happy/comfortable,” but in reality, I am far from either of those things. I have no one to blame except myself. And that leads me to the next point: I’m angry. I’m upset that I let myself gain so much weight even after I was already overweight. I stand only 5’1″ and I have 45 pounds to lose before I will even start to be happy with the way I look. And please, don’t feed me the line of “being happy with who I am” because that’s not going to happen until I lose a crap ton of weight.

It’s hard for me to think that my fiance’ even wants to look at me on most days. He tells me that he doesn’t care about my weight but, come on, guys are visually stimulated and there is nothing stimulating about me.

There is not one single day, or hour, that passes by that I don’t think about my body. When I eat, I am plagued with thoughts of how I can get rid of what I’m putting in my body and I feel guilty for eating. I know I have to eat to survive, but even when I make healthy choices, I obsess about the food I’m eating. It’s ridiculous and most people don’t get it. It makes me depressed. It rules my thoughts. It drives a wedge between me and my fiance’ on a lot of days. I try to explain to him that it’s hard for me to believe that anyone could love a creature as disgusting as myself, but for someone who doesn’t suffer from this kind of problem, it is extremely hard to understand.

Again, I know it’s my fault. I’m the one who puts the food in my mouth. I’m the one with terrible eating habits. I’m the one who goes straight to food for comfort and then hates myself after the fact. It’s me. No one else. I try to change,  but the addiction to food and the obsession with trying to lose weight is so powerful. It has a hold on me.

I started taking Plexus Slim six days ago. Every testimonial on their website said that people start losing weight within three days. Well, I’m “happy” to report that on day six, I haven’t even lost an ounce. Leave it to me to be the exception to the rule. Bleh.

I don’t care if you think I’m feeling sorry for myself, because I am. I know if I’d hit the gym and be active like I used to be, I’d see changes. But it’s so hard to explain. When I’m in such a low place emotionally, I honestly have zero energy or desire to do anything but go to bed at 7:00pm.

I suppose I should stop ranting now. I’m just having one of those days……….

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