Normally when I'm stuck at work all day, I fuck it up badly at some point. Not today. Today's three meals consisted of a grilled chicken breast with green vegetables, a dry spinach salad with salmon, and a lite "Caesar" salad with Brussels sprouts and a couple bites of pasta. Oh and an apple and some strawberries. Less than 1,000 calories. I'll allow myself to see that as a win considering how awful and long today was and how sore I am from the gym yesterday and how badly I wanted to cave and binge.
I've decided ten days.
I've decided ten days.
Ten straight days before I freak over my weight, give in to temptation, or quit. Ten days before I think about the process or how "unhealthy" I am being or any of the mental anguish I normally put myself through. After ten days of doing weight loss and not thinking about it, I will compare progress to goals and reevaluate.
I don't know how to get on track if I keep thinking about it. When I think about it, I justify not losing, based on "what's healthy" and how "I'll do it the right way once I figure out what that is." However, I never figure out a different way to get the weight off... Then, I think about how good I could look or how "healthy" I could be if I could just manage to not be crazy about it but still lose it...
But maybe weight loss and being healthy just IS this insane and tortuous process of deprivation. Even the "healthy" people can't really fucking like it, right?? Doesn't every vegan truly, deep down, fucking crave a bacon cheeseburger? Don't we all just really fucking want to be "unhealthy?" But then, where's the line in regards to physical and mental health?? I'm physically healthy but mentally fucked up and never letting myself have what I want? Or I'm mentally ok with myself and indulge and just fucking give in and enjoy my life but then I'm just physically unhealthy and miserable about my body and just not about bacon cheeseburgers? Either way I'm miserable, right? Either way I'm fucking unhealthy.
So, I've decided that as long as I'm going to be miserable, I might as well be miserable and look good. As long as I don't get to a point of hating myself with my weight loss process, then the process is acceptable.
But then again, I just hate myself anyway as a fat ass, sooo... It's currently unsolvable.
Ten days, then, love.