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                                   The Scale is Evil


Last year from January 2nd through August I rocked my workouts and my eating habits were under control. For the first time I actually thought I'd be under 200 lbs, which has not happened in about ten years. Oh but my birthday arrived, then the hubbs, then Turkey day, and Christmas. How the pounds did not creep on but jumped back on with eagerness. I stepped on the scale and my face instantly crumpled into a look of disgust. It's not like it was areal surprise, but I could not believe how all of my hard work was gone down the toilet in a matter of months. 

So I started my self torture last Monday. It's only day four and I have been a miserable grump. I have argued with the hubbs two days in a row over nothing. I think about food before I go to bed, at 3 am, and as soon as the alarm goes off. I measure the food, I eat the proper portion size, and I wanted to shed a tear when my daughter enjoyed chocolate chip pancakes, while I snarled at my English muffin.

My fear is that I have to loose enough weight by the fall to be pleasing to my doc. I can not walk back into her office and have another you need to lose weight talk. I'd rather go swimming with sharks. I think the worst part is knowing that I can only blame myself. But food equals happy for me. I celebrate with it, sulk with it, fight back anger and tears with it. Food has been my friend since I was a teenager, and yes I was a fatty in high school. I dropped pounds before entering the military and became a bean pole until I married and became a mom. 

During my pregnancy  I over ate, over gained, and have been battling the bulge ever since. I kicked my rear into gear and made myself sick with Atkins and got to 170 back in 2004. By 2006 I was on my way up with my heaviest at 235. I saw a picture and was like dear God is that me. Hide it, burn it! I pulled out the pic again today. I am not at my heaviest or my thinnest. I weigh myself tomorrow and each Friday here after. I always look at the scale and think "you are evil" But of course I know the scale is not a liar and its not at fault for my fatness.

Over the years  I have learned that I have to make myself accountable for what and how much I eat. A food tracker is a must. I also have to keep a journal to vent so that I don't turn to food. Unfortunately I live with two hot heads who are not the most understanding people on the planet so a pen and paper make up for that. I also have to force myself to exercise everyday as it sucks. I am happy I do it once its over. I am glad I do it when my pants button with no muffin top. But I would rather be doing other things instead of exercising. So for anyone else out there struggling to fight of cravings. Cry when they open the cabinet to see food that they can not eat but the bean poles in their house can, I feel your pain. I'd love to hear advice on how to beat the bulge or how you fight food addiction. Support equals success. Oh and if you hear a female voice swearing at a scale tomorrow it might just be me. 

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