Smaller

Another Friday looming. I think the same thing every Friday. This has been a long week. Wednesday was my longer, later shift, and could have been a lot worse. Hell, it’s been worse. The other day shift tech called out yesterday and I was alone with the more stressed of the two pharmacists, which definitely could have been way, way worse. However, all in all, it wasn’t the worst workweek. As a bonus, this weekend is also a rare 3-day weekend for me. I’ve got about a week of vacation time to be used up before mid-May. I’d been saving them in case I needed them for court things, but since the next meeting between the legal eagles isn’t until the end of May, I’m going to take some much needed mental health days between now and then.

I’m still making a point to do something every morning. I’ve already done my morning yoga; I’ve done some sort of a workout every morning this week. This week has been what I call a “bad eating” week, which makes me feel like complete shit. Three years ago this week, I hit my weight loss goal.

But this week, I feel like that old joke about the “seafood diet”: if I see food, I eat it. Completely dead at work on Monday? Get that soda, TREAT YO SELF. Things went a bit crazy on Wednesday? Let’s eat an extra chocolate chip cookie. I bring half of the batch of banana muffins that we made over the weekend to work, so they’re not tempting me at home, and eat one every day at work instead.

When this picture showed up as a memory on Facebook this week, part of me was pissed off. I worked really fucking hard to get to that goal. Getting to 130 lbs was my goal – I wanted my weight to be what was actually listed on my driver’s license. But the picture also helped remind me that my current weight isn’t all that much higher than my goal. Additionally, my lowest weight – what I called my hard limit goal – wasn’t something that was sustainable in the long term. In fact, the only reason that I even hit that goal was the fact that I was in a deep depression at the time. I had just discovered he’d been unfaithful, and I was taking in maybe 600 calories daily at that point because I didn’t see the point of eating.

These days, I’m in a better place mentally. I try to eat better meals, and I don’t obsessively work out to avoid what’s happening in my life. But… I still feel that pull towards that lower number on the scale. There’s that voice in my head that tells me “you can be smaller”, or “you’ll never be thin”.

I need to remember something important. That voice is fucking bullshit.