I shouldn’t have whined about staying the same weight for three weeks. I had a gain. Yeah, turducken and all, but it’s still depressing. I’m now back to 2.4kg away from wearing my new shoes. I know that’s nothin’, and I should be thinking about how it’ll only take two weeks to get rid of. But I’m not. People keep complimenting me and I smile and thank them for their encouragement… but I don’t think any of them realize how down I am about my progress right now. I know I’ve had peaks and troughs before, but the trough I’m in is lower than I’ve felt since I began WW seven months ago. I was in the shower the other day, not thinking about anything in particular, when suddenly my brain just stated: “You can’t do it. You’ll never do it.” And then it was out there, and I can’t seem to shake this feeling of powerlessness and self-loathing. I forced myself to a kickboxing class Monday night (mostly in the hopes that it would mitigate what was sure to be a gain at the meeting last night), but it left me so sore and bruised and tired afterwards that I just felt on the verge of a breakdown. Yesterday afternoon I had a crazy e-mail exhange with the Snook – “Why am I always starving? I HATE MYSELF.” – in which I tried to rationalize skipping the meeting but he wouldn’t let me. I left work dreading the weigh-in and wanting nothing more than to sit at home and eat leftover pumpkin pie and be completely self-destructive. And that made me so damn angry with myself that I decided to do the most painful, punishing thing I could think of: I went running. I put on my goddamn shoes and hobbled out the door. I ran all the way down Harris Street to Pyrmont, around by the Anzac Bridge and the Fish Markets, and then back up Wattle Street to home. Along that back stretch I was definitely in some pain – my side ached, my ankle was sore – but I could see someone else coming towards me, someone as red-faced and sweaty and slow as I was. It was only just as we reached each other that I realized it was Karen, one of the girls from my WW meeting. We shared a wave and a smile. Anyway, I got home and showered and made it to the meeting, and the whole time I was sitting there I was still feeling depressed and like everything I’d accomplished was a big fluke. Megan told us that motivation is a combination of how important a goal is to you and how confident you are in your ability to reach it. My confidence was at rock bottom… But then at the end of the meeting Megan announced that we had a milestone to celebrate, that someone had just passed the 30 kilos lost mark… and it was Karen. I felt both inspired by her and completely jealous, and then that made me feel like a big selfish jerk. I need to get out of this rut and I need it to happen fast. I’m seeing the hypnotherapist again on Friday, and I’m hoping to see her again the next week. In the meantime, I’m just going to take it one day at a time.
Woot, my knee-jerk don’t-overthink-it pub-quiz answer was Iran which seems to be [✓]. I ‘knew’ it was more populous than…
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