So… I have been spending a LOT of time lately cutting out the “fat” in my life.
You know the stuff… the things in your house that you don’t REALLY need but keep “just in case.”
the social media accounts that you keep around “just for fun.”
the people that make you feel like less of a person because their lives are so fucking perfect all the god damn time and OMG can’t they just stop it because NO ONE is that perfect. Ahem.
the people that don’t treat you well.
Yeah, all that.
But there’s one thing that I struggle with (especially when it comes to all this emotional cleansing) and that’s the way I eat (also known as “diet” though I fucking HATE that word) and exercise. I am an emotional eater.
Meaning this: if I FEEL an emotion (happy, sad, angry, anxious, etc), I eat.
So I pretty much just eat all the fucking time. And it’s never shit that’s good for me, and I have ZERO self control and that is why I am now at the weight that I swore I would never, ever get to, and if I did I would HAVE to do something about it because that number scares me just like this run on sentence.
I’m here. I’m at that number.
And while I realize that weight IS just a number… this number looks not healthy on me. I can see it in my face, I can feel it in my back, and my whole entire body is just SORE from all the extra weight it is carrying around. The weight that I refused to do anything about for over 3 years now.
Weight Watchers didn’t work.
Running by myself didn’t work.
Trying to get out with my friends to exercise didn’t work.
So now? So now I’ve done what I never, ever thought I would ever, in a billion years do.
I signed up for a six week, five days a week, kick your ass in gear and tell you what to eat class at my local fitness center.
And let’s be real…. I’m scared shitless.
But it was a lot of money.
And it gets me out of the house.
And I can meet new people with the same goals that I have.
And hopefully lose all this extra fat that I’ve been carrying around for so long.
And trying to get comfortable with. But let’s be real…. I just don’t do well with extra weight. Physically or emotionally.
Wish me luck, peeps.
I am gonna need it.