I’ve always been a bit odd. I was heavier when I was younger, but never really overweight. I am now what I consider to be fat. I’m size 10-12 and 5ft 3. I know I’m not *really* fat (whatever that might be) but I am bigger than I’ve been for as many years as I can remember. And I hate it every minute of every day.
I suffer from chronic IBS, so as well as carrying a few extra pounds, I also tend to be so bloated most of the time that I simply can’t wear anything with a waistband. Whilst this is helpful for my comfort and general getting through the days, it does mean that I’m in shift dresses and leggings most of the time. This does nothing to curb my eating. Whereas putting on a pair of skinny jeans would alert me to a week of unhealthy binging as I attempted to button them up on a Saturday night, I have now lost that barometer.
Leggings seem the same whether I’m half a stone heavier or lighter and until I attempt to get into something fitted, I genuinely have no clue how heavy I’m getting. I refuse to stand on scales, so clothing is my only unit of measurement.
Generally, the moment I realise a shirt is starting to gape at the front or my ass is feeling a bit *too* snug in my trousers, I pull back, behave myself and start again.
These days? I honestly have no clue. And this is where the problem lies. Either I stop making my life easier by being comfy at work, or I simply eat less. Tbh, neither of those options has yet forced me to deal with the current situation.
I constantly hate getting dressed and checking out my dumpy little legs in leggings and flats. I also constantly make a half assed attempt at keeping for. I run, I walk, I use my exercise bike and I mainly make an effort to eat kinda healthy.
But I like wine. And crisps. Generally in that exact order and often consumed simultaneously.
I just don’t seem to making any progress. And now I’m worried that I’m going to have to employ a drastic strategy, like, you know…going on an actual diet.
I’ve always thought that reducing my calorie intake and upping my exercise was enough. And, in the past, it has been. These days? It ain’t working.
I am fully aware I’ll continue to be down about my weight (which absolutely has an impact on my general depression), but, at the same time, I haven’t made that decision to really, truly tackle it. My current philosophy clearly isn’t working.
I’m on the exercise bike as I write this; paying 30 mins lip service to my fitness because I couldn’t possibly go running because it’s raining. I live in Wales. This is NOT a surprise.
What will it take before I stop talking and start ACTUALLY rectifying the situation? I KNOW it’ll make me feel so much better and yet, I just won’t step it up to make the difference I need.
How can I be so self destructive but so unhappy about something at the same time? I don’t understand me at all.
Anyone else struggling with weight loss despite knowing that they’re not really doing it right?! No? just me, then…
I suspected as much.