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.
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