I’ve switched to weighing myself in kilos. Less emotional baggage. I’m still working on why I’m so bad to myself. I need to get to a mental place where I can say to myself “No, you do not want soda. It’s disgusting and bad for you. It gives you stomach aches. You don’t need it.” I think it comes from a place of self-loathing, and I don’t want to be like that anymore.
When I was about 11, I filled out one of those “who do I want to be” booklets that were so popular in the late 70s. In addition to saying I wanted to be a ballerina or a principal, I said I would never hate my body and put it down. How quickly things change. By 13, I was trying to be bulemic. Thank goodness I never succeeded at that, though I gave it a good college try. It’s the same old story. I look back and realize I was never fat in high school. Even when I gained 40 pounds in one summer, I still wasn’t over the healthy range for my height. Until my senior year, I never weighed more than 95 pounds.
I’m going to take better care of myself. I’m going to stop drinking the disgusting coffee at work, which has to be creamed and sugared within an inch of its life to make it drinkable. I’m going to eat more fruit, more veggies, more lean protein. I’m going to cut out refined sugar. I’m going to eat every few hours so I don’t let myself get hungry and desperate. I have food shortage issues, so somehow I need to make myself understand that if I really want something, I will just have to go to the store and get it.
I’m going to keep doing bellydancing class, keep wogging three times a week. I’m going to get back to swimming and biking on the weekends. And, I’m going to make sure I do my Cathe DVDs at least 5 times a week. I’m going to stop being mean to myself. I deserve better.