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I know. As titles go, it’s a bit obvious. A little too on point, perhaps. It can’t be helped. I’ve written this post a dozen or so times in my mind, but couldn’t seem to commit. The subject matter changed every day, and sometimes several times even within my imagined post. Too many thoughts in my head, and my mind wasn’t allowing me to organize them. I couldn’t focus, and I didn’t want to overwhelm my readers. Readers, ha! I haven’t written anything in 10 months or so… I doubt anyone’s been hanging around with bated breath, except for maybe me. I’m more than a little curious to see what I’m going to say, now that I’m finally going through the process of saying it.

I should fill in some obvious blanks, but honestly that’s a post for another time. I’d rather talk about where I’m at than where I’ve been. Where I’m at in this very precise moment is obsessing about food. Again. Plus ça change…. plus c’est la même chose. I’m back at Weight Watchers and doing quite well overall. I’m down around 20 pounds or so since October. When I started this time (time four? time five?), things were oddly easy. I was very relieved to be back, and my appetite fled the scene. I had no desire to overeat, and zero interest in sugar. For once, my biggest problem was that I couldn’t seem to eat enough. Crazy, right? I was eating a ton of fruit and veggies and couldn’t seem to eat as much overall as I was supposed to. The weight came off reasonably quickly. I’d lose a couple of pounds one week and only a few ounces the next, even if I’d changed nothing. I never “cheated” or overate so it made me somewhat mental that it wasn’t coming off faster still, but steady progress is always a big deal. I had lost around 19 pounds just before Christmas, and then I went home to Chicago for 11 days. “Aha!” you might be thinking. “Here’s where it all fell apart.” Actually, no. Yes, the food was heavier. There were (far) fewer vegetables, and I did indulge more than I would have at home. Regardless, I gained less than a pound the entire trip. Amazing, considering. Stalled a bit on my return but then lost another 2 1/2 pounds last week. I hit a couple of milestones in the program, which were celebrated at my meeting, and here I am. This past week we ate out quite a bit. I made many poor choices and Monday morning the scale made note of them: I was up a full pound. I’m mad at myself and more than a little frustrated. I know exactly what I did wrong, in obsessive and excruciating detail. It’s not important, really. This is the real question, and it’s a biggie:

What is it about success that scares me so much?

I have a deep-seated fear of success, and it gets in my way. Oh, fear of failure is in there as well, naturally, but it’s obvious and doesn’t need dissection. This fear of success thing is a tricky bastard. I WANT to be thin. I want it badly! I want to be able to wear – and look fabulous in – whatever I want. I want to feel pretty, as well as comfortable in my own skin. I was making progress, people. I was ON MY WAY. Then WHAMMO, the desire to eat crappy food returned full-force. Suddenly, I wanted fat, I wanted sugar. I wanted to have my cake and lose weight, too. I wanted it MY way. Trouble is, my way is a total fail and I know it – I’ve been proving it for years! What was it about reaching some of my shorter-term goals that scared me back to the dark side? These were absolutely smaller, initial goals. Losing 20 pounds is great, and I’m not trying to downplay it, but the bottom line is I have another 40 or so pounds to lose. I need to stick with the program and not start deviating from a plan that was working. It was working. It WILL work. But I have to face my fears, success included.

I have a long road ahead, so why am I carrying my own jackhammer?

Food (ahem) for thought. So for the moment, it’s back to basics. Lots of fruit and vegetables and a general avoidance of sugar are good starting places. My meeting leader says, “You can eat what you want, or you can wear what you want. You can’t have both.” Truer words were never spoken. For me, clothes are a big deal. The possibility of feeling attractive – to myself – is a HUGE deal. I need to let go of the fear and keep putting one foot in front of the other. Speaking of which, adding in some exercise is not a terrible idea, either.

So for now, this is where I’m at. Subject to change without notice, always. I promise not to take 10 months to report back.

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