Alright! No body move...

I know I should.  I know allllll the reasons.  Got no excuses.  Not really.

But I just can't seem to MAKE myself exercise.  It's a viscious cycle of feeling fat, ugly, and winded, which leads to being more depressed, which leads to my wanting to go sleep for ohhhhhhhhh ever, which leads to me being more depressed by my fat, unhealthy, unattractive self.  It's disgusting.  Aren't you glad I'm sharing?

Yesterday, my poor guy heard all about it (and a bunch of tangents too) for hours (and I do mean literally hours).  He had to bear the sight (and sound) of me sobbing and blowing my nose repeatedly.  It would seem I was calming down, then oh! no! a fresh turrent of tears would burst forth.

And because he is a psychologist (well, ok, because he LOVES me, but also because he is a psychologist), he listened to my blubbering wallowing until we were both pruney.  He gave a few great suggestions, he offered his shoulder (and ear) anytime, and encouraged me with warm words.

I feel much better.

But, I'd like to say that sometimes it amazes me that I am 230 pounds.  Even more so, it astounds me that I let myself get this way.  What...how.....when....uuuuhhh

I know it took awhile to get this way.  I know it will take awhile to not be this way.  I know that I am the only one that can change myself.

But wouldn't it be nice if you could just lay the blame elsewhere?


I think it was the butler, in the pantry, with the knife.