I’ve had fat issues before I was obese. I look back at the skinny me in my younger days and remember the pain that girl felt believing she was fat and ugly.
Now I am fat and ugly. Over a 100kg at a short 1.62m.
I’ve been depressed for over ten years and only this week did I realise it. All this time I believed it was just part of my personality. That I had changed. Grown introverted. No. I’d grown ashamed with strong feelings of self hate.
Online, everywhere I look people are transforming. Shedding weight like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Transforming their lives and worlds.
I’ve tried a million times. I keep falling back into my rut. Watching these people throw empty platitudes like you can do it, don’t be lazy…. They don’t make me keep up and get going.
My whole life has revolved around how much I weigh and how I look. Most people don’t understand how deep it’s cut me. I wrote a post a year ago about the pain.
It’s the past. Ive been trying to let go. It’s like my weight is my comfort. My protector. My safety net for when I fail.
This is the last time I’m going to try this. I’m going to give it my all. In January I’m going to turn 30 and I’d like to be 30 kg lighter.
That is my goal. That is my dream.
And these next few months will be my journey.
Let’s do it