So I wrote a post about how I intend to lose weight, how I'd like to drop some weight by my 32nd birthday and before I try to conceive again- and then- I signed off- and went to McDonalds and had a vanilla ice cream cone followed with M&Ms and Pad Thai for dinner.
What. the. fuck?
I never go to McDonalds. My last trip to McDonalds was in 2009 in Spain when we could find nothing in our near the vicinity that didn't have pork, and before then? When I was 18. I don't know what possessed me to declare myself on a diet and then run off to stuff myself with as much sugar as possible.
I think part of it is this fear to give up sugar. To eat healthy. I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'm going to fail. Because I've failed so many times before. Because weight loss has always been such a damn struggle- I dont think I can do it- and my body in rebellion against my mind- went to McDonalds.
I used to be a size four, it was a brief time but it was a beautiful time and since then I've looked back with wistfulness wanting it again, never giving away the clothes from that era, but never doing what it takes to get back to where I once was.
I have been at this weight for five years now. I'm ashamed of it. So ashamed I cannot even state it here on this private blog with people who support me, the only ones reading. I begin with sincere effort- and then I drop off- I begin- then I fail.
Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow I'm going to sit down and get more specific. I'm going to make a clear goal. A clear plan. And I will do this. I can do it. I must do it.