I…….um….have to break up with you…

This isn’t easy for me to say… or type. This isn’t the way it was supposed to be. I didn’t plan for things to go this way, but now you’ve left me with no choice. I have to do this. It’s the best thing for me. I am the most important person to me right now and I have to do what’s best for me. It’s over. I can’t handle a casual relationship. I’m an all or nothing kind of girl and I can’t give you my all. I need you out of my house. I see too much of you.

 

There. It’s been done. It’s been said. I just broke up with my scales.

My scales and I have had a turbulent relationship since inception. We’ve had good times and we’ve had bad times. Like any relationship, it needs to be honest and at the moment, all I’m getting is mind games.

On Saturday morning, I dutifully got up, stepped on the scales (as I do every single morning just about) and looked down with a mixture of excitement and anticipation. It had been ten days since my last weigh in. I had eaten clean and worked out; I was bound to see results.

No change. No gain. No loss. I was heartbroken. What’s the point if nothing changes?

So I sat down to my first of three breakfasts. The first was my standard protein porridge and banana – nothing wrong with that. Breakfast number 2 was a smoothie – hmmm okay, so you don’t need two breakfasts but it was nearly snack time, so I justified it. Breakfast number three was the tastiest – multigrain toast with rosella jam. Now I’m not going to confess to exactly how many, but let’s say it was more than a few. I also managed to eat a whole frozen pizza (you’d think that when I was struggling to finish the last 4 slices I’d stop, but nope, I finished it all) as well as a bag of bullets, strawberry licorice, and whatever else I could get my hands on. Then I started realising what I’d done, so down the Metamucil tablets, there was only a few left, so I mixed up a drink too, figured it would flush me out.

Repeat again for Sunday except I was at work. Not a healthy weekend and it all started from a one minute activity on Saturday morning. I justified my gross behaviour on what the scales said.

This morning I sheepishly told my bootcamp coach and she told me in no uncertain terms that the scales had to go. So did my backup scales. I guess they’re going for a holiday down to Gladstone for a while. I’m only allowed to go by the weigh ins that she is conducting for me at the moment so I don’t fall into the self sabotage trap. I still haven’t quite worked out how this will work with 12wbt but where there’s a will, there’s a way. I must say I’m getting nervous about letting them go. I’ve weighed myself frequently since moving out of home so I’m a bit anxious about it all. I’ll have to keep you all posted with it

xx