Diet Shaming 101

I, honestly, don’t know which way is up anymore.  My (self-diagnosed) ADD is on a Defcon 5 red alert.  I feel like a Suffolk Punch (for you horse lay people..that’s a breed of draft horse).  I need blinders to stay on the road ahead and I officially outweigh the top weight on my scale…and I have heartburn….and my husband just opened the credit card bills and almost had a stroke….and my son pooped in the tub tonight.

Have you ever seen the “EE” on your scale?  no? well let me tell you how that works.  Step 1: stand on your scale.  Step 2:  get the “EE”  Step 3: in a panic take off any article of clothing you have on and throw it beside the scale  Step 4:  stand there..cold, naked and shocked when the scale reads 298.5.

How could this be?  There’s no way I’ve put on more than 10 lbs over the holiday.  Only pretty chicks with success stories in the magazines put on weight like that..not me.  No way! .. I know for a fact I successfully deluded myself into thinking it was ok to eat anything covered in marshmallow as long as it was at “dinner time.”

If you’ve never been at this point…let me fill you in.  THIS. is rock bottom.  THIS is when you start wishing you could just barf to make your stomach feel better, but knowing that your upset stomach is about your Total reality check in the “weight” department, you know the second your head hits the toilet, your mother will have 18 pamphlets on Bulimia at your doorstep and be calling every 5 mins asking if you’re ok.  “I’m fine mother, I’m fine. I don’t have an eating disorder.”

Sure I don’t.  I may not be Bulimic or Anorexic, but I certainly have an eating disorder.  Along with a procrastination disorder and the uncanny ability to have long drawn out conversations with myself while attempting to reason.  And by reasoning, I’m talking about bullshit.  Maybe I am only speaking for myself here, but MAN we bullshit ourselves a lot.

Long story short (too late), it’s time for me to stop dickin’ around and get some shiz done.  I’m so fired up about this right now that this herbal tea i’m drinking, may as well be crack.

Reality Check. it’s 11pm.  I have an appt with Ben my trainer tomorrow for my full restart. You can bet your boots I’ll be there. I’ll probably puke, passout or cry…oh lord don’t let it be all three…but I know for a fact that in 1 single workout, i can keep this drive alive. I can do this. I’ve done it before, I can do it again.

and if my mother calls, I’m fine!