First step was bottoming out on hating myself and finally admitting that I am gross. What I see when I look at myself is gross. I am not what I want to be or what I want to look like. I don't want to take a minute to catch my breath after climbing two flights. I want to chase my kid around without wondering if he's scared of my jiggling fat chasing him.
I am still wanting the old, soon-to-be-modernized, me.
I joined Weight Watchers 3 weeks ago. I'm down some pounds already and it is so empowering. To know I'm finally in a state that I want to do something about it and - the biggest part - it CAN be done. I have the extra struggle of not having a gall bladder to toss in the mix but so far it hasn't been holding me back very much.
Me and The Cult (the loving term for Weight Watchers) are going to be BFF's for a while. And by "a while" I mean until I'm done. Not quitting, but done; I will not quit until I am done.
The second thing I did was talk to my GP about the meds I was already on and how I wasn't so sure it was working. In talking with him we realized I was likely never on the best one(s) for me and he made a quick change. Although it's only been a week, I can't begin to tell you the difference.
I want to get out of bed!
I'm bored with sitting and watching tv!
I want to go on walks!
I laugh easily and, therefore, more often!
The best one? Instead of feeling like I don't deserve to have Fred and Elliot to thinking that maybe I'm SO AWESOME that they don't deserve me!
Boys? Consider yourselves warned.