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This week's weigh-in, I was down to 236.5. I was gleeful at that without any other thoughts. Then, today, something occurred to me that brought me to tears.
After my stint of bulimia in high school, I used to either say or think to myself that that was the best 40 pounds I'd ever lost. Considering that at my highest last summer I was 279, I am down by more than 42 pounds. I cannot and WILL NOT ever say that the bulimia weight loss is the best. NOT EVER AGAIN!
This -- this right here -- is the best 40 pounds I have ever lost. I can still eat cookies. I can still eat fudge. I still indulge in meringues and go out to eat once in a while. Exercise is more a hobby than a chore now. I feel great. I have more energy than ever. My skin is softer. I feel stronger. I am not beating myself up. I am eating healthier and tastier. I can still lunch on SpaghettiOs with Meatballs if I am so inclined. I don't have the worry of who's going to walk in if I throw up, or whether I'm going to injure myself doing so. Neither do I have the problem of deprivation dieting followed by binging. I eat when I am hungry. I drink when I am thirsty. I move my body around. I have a better sex life. It is great!
I can't say it enough. This is the best 40 pounds I've ever lost.
