In June, I weighed 156 pounds. It was remarkable—18 months before, I had weighed in at more than 260 for the first time in my life. I had originally hoped to reach my pre-pandemic weight of 230 when I started dieting in March of 2021, but I had gone above (or below) and beyond. Unfortunately, I haven't let it last.
As of my writing this post, I'm somewhere in the 180-185 range. It isn't 100% my fault—I've found myself in an abnormal amount of situations where I've been at a buffet or some sort of function where I'm expected to enjoy myself. My mom's decision to address her own stress with food—which means that I'm surrounded by sugary and saturated fat goodness—hasn't helped, either. But more than anything, my constantly screwing up has cost me those 25-30 pounds. "Cheat" days probably outweigh all others now, and I routinely overeat on chips and (sometimes) cookies. I don't even have to be hungry to overeat anymore—I just have to have a moment of lost willpower, and a desire to avoid the inevitably less exciting world of dieting. Of course, even when I'm doing well (I'd say I had one really good day in the past,) I still find myself spending most of my time thinking about food. I'm not necessarily hungry—sometimes I am, but other times I'm just...looking for something positive in my life. I hate this. I hate my body. I hate myself.
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from loseit - Lose the Fat https://www.reddit.com/r/loseit/comments/yh6t78/i_keep_screwing_up/
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