Alright, well I lost 2.4. That's not too bad, but it's sure not gonna put me in first place. I did pretty awesome all week, but I'm sure there are factors that led to the unimpressive loss. First off, I haven't pooped in a week. That may be TMI but this here is MY blog and I won't be censored! Darn it. Also, PMS. I thought it was a couple weeks ago because I was so moody, but it turns out I was just being a bitch for no good reason. THIS TIME IT'S REAL THOUGH!
My boss was all "2.4, that's great!" and she prolly thinks I'm being a real whiny asshole about the whole thing when like, at least I'm still losing. And really, it's not a bad loss. I'm just expecting too much from a body that I have put through absolute torture for the past 30 years. I act right for 3 weeks and I'm pissed that my body is like "hold the fuck up, bitch!" I am being a spoiled baby.
I do need that money though...
I will say that getting into the 370s actually did put a smile on my face when I first saw it. It's been over 18 months. I lost and gained essentially the same 15 pounds over and over again, and I feel like I've crossed a small hill that I was having a hard time getting over. I am proud of myself for sticking to it and being so in control. That is HARD for me to say. I can't expect most people to understand how I truly feel about myself, so for me to give myself a compliment without a sarcastic overtone is a BIG step. So in the midst of my bitching and moaning, there's progress.
I wanna change the subject now and move into a new feature of my blog called Being 400 Pounds. I never want to be 400 pounds again. The time I spent there was full of shame and embarrassment. And even though losing 22 pounds isn't some gigantic accomplishment, I do feel like I'm firmly OUT of the 400s and I wanna stay that way. If these serve as nothing but a reminder to myself to put down the fucking Twix bar one day, then they're worth the embarrassment.
At 400 pounds, I own one pair of jeans that fit. One. I had to buy them from a catalog and I had no clue what my size was. My weird body shape of like all-stomach makes pants nearly impossible to find. I guess clothing companies think that anyone with a stomach as big as mine must have tree-trunks for legs, because any pair I found that actually fit my waist were like crazy clown pants in the legs department.
I finally broke down and went to have a pair altered. It was expensive, but they fit. It wasn't flattering or sexy or comfortable, but they DID fit. At 28 years of age, it was my first pair of jeans. My only pair. Still my only pair, to this day, 4 years later. Needless to say, they're getting a little worn. Especially in one spot:
Yeah, in case you're wondering, that's where my steering wheel rubs against my belly. Too fat for jeans, too fat for my car. It's rubbing less these days, almost not at all. But the damage to these jeans is done.
Do you know what it's like to be too fat for a fucking car?? I put off getting my license for over a decade because I didn't fit comfortably in any car I tried. Eventually I just dealt with the "rub." I can't wait for these days to be over. Seriously.
So...I need new jeans. The process starts again. Kill me...