the measure of me.
Well the good, the bad, the ugly…complete honesty is what I promised.
I am terrified of getting weighed tomorrow. I fear the scale, the scale that has betrayed me so many times. Even though I know for two weeks I have eaten well, eaten less and made good choices, and moved more than I have the two weeks prior. I am scared of failure of having put it all out there and not be able to deliver. In the past what I would do, how I would cope with stress, anxiety, fear…is to eat. I would eat to forget, eat to comfort and eat to reward feeling sorry for myself. Tonight will be different. I have made the commitment and promise not to do that, I simply can’t do that, and so I write. I write and expose my fears to the world on this machine.
If I get on the scale tomorrow and nothing has changed or something has changed in the wrong direction. Then I work harder, I keep going and I don’t give up….not on the amazing people who have stepped up to support me, not on myself and not on Recycled Doggies or the dogs. My goal is to try to loose 100lbs in a year, not change years of bad habits in two weeks. As I sit here crying, I look over and what do I see…..yep, Tristan gently licking his feet. I must be good to myself and try to heal. Yet again, he saves me.