I'm not depressed every single day. I'm healthy, for the most part. I wear a size 14, sometimes a 12, which means I can shop at regular stores, for the most part. I can keep up at the gym, for the most part. Here in the U.S., even though I live in the fittest state in the nation, I can usually walk into a restaurant or a shop and know that I'm not the biggest person in the room. (This was so not the case in Singapore). And I have some level of body confidence. Sure I'm not prancing around in a bikini yet, not that I'd ever prance, but you know, I'm not there yet. I'm still pinching at my arms when I'm in a tank top.
For some reason though, I'm at a place where I WANT to care, but when it comes down to it, when it comes down to making the right choices and not drinking that beer or eating those nachos, I just don't. I just don't care.
So now what? Maybe I'll care more once the sun starts shining and wearing a swimsuit becomes an actual possibility. Maybe I'll care when I go to buy those designer jeans and I have to go to the men's section because the women's are all too small. Maybe I'll care after I have lunch with my friend who just had twins and already has her razor sharp hip bones jutting over the top of her jeans.
I don't know. I know I still have some weight to lose so that I can be fit and healthy and be in the best possible shape for my body. But I also know that some of those pounds are purely vanity pounds. Ten pounds, those are maybe health pounds. Twenty pounds, those are probably vanity pounds.
When I look back, I've basically been maintaining my weight since we returned from Asia. I've been bouncing up and down here and there, but for the most part it's been 3-4 months of pure maintenance. Which is good, it leads me to believe I can maintain. But that sad part is, I've really just been maintaining under the guise of "trying" to lose. And I know I'm not being honest unless I admit that I haven't really been trying at all.
It is a fact that I still have some weight to lose. How much is debatable. But how do I get to that place where I care again? I don't want it to have to come to one of those moments where I break a chair in an Italian restaurant in front of my entire extended family (yes, I've done that and no, I don't think I'll ever recover). I want it to matter because it should matter and wearing a 14 is great because it's not a 20 anymore, but it's not good enough. Problem is, right now it sort of is.
I don't know what to do. Maybe the answer is to focus on trying to maintain and not actually losing for a few months? And then maybe by June or July I'll be ready to try again? Or should I just shut the eff up and do it and lose this weight for good and quit worrying about it? (Like it's so easy ha ha). Or should I just get over the vanity pounds? I don't know. I'm so apathetic it's becoming pathetic. Is that possible? Blah blah blah I'm probably going to be talking about this forever. Ugh.