Gone are the days of rolling out of the bed and grabbing some pants and a top. Why? Well for one, Mother Nature is in one of her moods again. It’s cold, not it’s warm. Wait, it is going to be hot, hot, hot. Then the rain storms are a coming with a cold from behind it dig your jacket out.
And that is in the first five minutes of getting out of my bed with the news on in the background. The morning tussle begins when Wookie opts to jump down off the bed and follow me into the bathroom. Constantly chattering about something that I am not really sure translates. I look at his food and water bowl, they look fine. I kneel down to pet him (knowing that every second counts since I have to make my Sonic stop),
Once I brush my teeth and my hair and decide on making the effort to put makeup on I stumble to my closest a few short months ago I had plenty in there to choose from. Tons of clothes, tons of shoes and heck for good measure, a few purses should I opt to change out the one I always carry.
This is where the real work begins. I have gained a lot of weight and that makes me feel sick. I scour the closet looking for my fat pants in hopes that they will work. Then I stare at my tops coming up with something that will at least make me look presentable..
I chew myself out for allowing the weight to go there and the knowledge that even if I had money in the budget to buy a few items that would fit I know that I won’t. I have fat clothes and some of them are snug. And that sends me into a bit of a crying jag. I am embarrassed that I have let my eating habits overtake my body. I have lost control.
Oh and I am a control freak so this causes me to go down the spiral and have that pep talk where I am basically telling myself that I have to say no. I have to get past this and start moving.
And I am moving, I am getting better at sticking to exercising and dealing with lunch in a much better way but this shit is hard to do.
As I walk out the door, I get that panic feeling of looking like the dork in high school. I guess for me, in this journey, I am hitting rock bottom. The back fat and belly is nasty to me. I was never super thin but I long for the days that all I complained about were my thighs.
I did manage to find a cheep place to go for a haircut. My long, nice layers from last fall are kind of jacked up. As in I am living in split end hell. So I told the girl no layers, just straight across. I got almost three inches cut off. Let’s hope that I can aleast get my hair to behave.
And with this weight I have a hard time wearing my heels. That is the most devastating part. I am a mess. But I am challenging myself to eat better, work out more in order to feel better and look better.
Because I strongly feel fat rolls only look good on babies. I am most certainly not a baby.