This morning I weighed in at 175. Curiously, rather than feeling glad or excited that I'd dropped another couple of pounds, I felt a flash of depression and anxiety. It took me a whole 30 seconds to figure it out.
After Darius, I stopped losing weight at 170 because of a whole bunch of silly reasons, mostly unintentional self-sabotage. I also spent a sizable portion of my teenage years at 175. Sooooo, I'm paranoid that I'm going to stop losing weight and be stuck at this currently, rather squishy weight. Which, let's be honest, is not the worst thing in the world. That being said, I have this deep-set fear that unless I get myself to a really healthy weight I'll end up contracting diabetes like pretty much everyone in my family over the age of 35. Add in my dad's multiple hernias (midline and hiatal) that are complicated by his weight, and I REALLY want to lose the weight. Like, yesterday.
Of course, I wanted to lose weight before I ever had kids, but that was because I had this tummy bulge that I didn't like. Now I just have the generally rounded shape of a woman who's had 2 children in quick succession. I don't expect to ever be a lingerie model, I just want to be healthy.
Which, come to think of it, is kind of funny coming from someone who is known to eat cookies for breakfast and ice cream for lunch. Not on the same day, though. Like that makes it better.
Anyway! I finished my math class today, and am free of formulas until January! Hooray!
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