Feeling Fat and Despaired

Remember when I said I weighed 218? That was so 2012. Now with all sorts of yummy vegan foods and getting together with fun vegan friend and really, just being over 50 and not able to lose weight...wait for it....224.

I hate the idea that I (still) (after all these years!) get on the scale to "see how I'm doing." That is, whether I'm a good girl or whether I'm a bad girl. Recently, I gave up stepping on the scale, ate reasonable, vegan food choices for three weeks--did not overeat or otherwise sabotage myself--then weighed and found myself at 222.

That was yesterday, before my first visit to Lily's house, and today I am 224, kid you not. It is just disgusting and despairing, and, as every fatty knows, seeing the number go up doesn't make me want to eat less, it makes me want to say, "forget it" and eat whatever all day long.

I really hate myself today. Especially because tomorrow I'm likely to be back to that horror, 225. That number after which is 250. When four months ago I was 203, having really worked hard after once again getting up to 227, and here I am again and here I am again hating myself.

I was within sight of one-derland and threw it all away. Again. 

Yeah, yeah, I'm kind, smart, important, educated, loved, comfortable, creative, blah, blah, blah, and fat.

Fat Vegan Olivia, that's me.