Sometimes I Like to Vent.

I really hate to rant about weight loss. I don't want this blog to turn into someplace that I just complain and whine. But then I remember that I am blogging as a way to keep a journal for myself. When I finally reach my goal weight, I want to remember how hard I fought to get here. I want to remember the frustration, so I do not let myself slip back into fattyville.

I also think it's good to vent about the frustrations of weight loss, so other people know how hard it actually is. I really hate envy reading the weight loss blogs where everything seems so easy. I am envious of the people who cut out carbs and lose 10 pounds. I am even more angrily envious of the girls who have been lifting weights for 3 weeks and can already see their muscle definition.

Those type of weight loss stories really irritate me because it's not that easy for everyone. If I cut out carbs, my weight barely moves. I have been lifting weights for over a year and my fat is still covering up all the muscle that I have built.

Now I realize that everyone's weight loss path is different. Though some people might be able to cut out carbs and see results, they probably have other areas that cause them an equal amount of frustration.

However, I am currently very angry, so in an attempt to keep it real, I am going to spend the remainder of this post rambling and ranting. Feel free to tune out now.

Weight loss is by far the hardest, most emotionally draining journey that I have ever been on. Getting my college degree was not even as emotionally taxing. Because in college if I studied, and did what I was suppose to, I got my desired results. If I eat clean, and work out, I might lose half a pound. Maybe.

When I stepped on the scale last Friday, I was at 177.4. And I was actually really upset to see that number. I had given up carbs all week, and I ate an extremely clean diet. I was really hoping to get back to 176 after my vacation. My roommate, who also went on vacation with me, only went to the gym 3 times last week, ate carbs, and pizza, and beer. Yet she managed to lose another pound.

I wanted to be happy for her, because honestly she is looking really skinny and toned. But I was too busy wallowing in my own self pity. I cried the entire way home from the gym.

And instead of getting my ass in gear, I decided to cover up my emotions with food and drinks all weekend. I drank cocktails that had pineapple juice and cream of coconut. I ate lots of noodles, pancakes, and worst of all, I went to a Chinese buffet. I also thought it was a great plan to make a drunken stop at my local gas station and pick up some chips and breakfast sandwiches.

I know that I deserved to gain weight. I know that I cannot eat like that and expect any sort of good outcome. However I am stuck in the vicious circle of emotional eating. I have been in a plateau for almost 2 months. Because I am getting so fucking frustrated with my weight plateauing, I eat. When I try really hard, have great willpower, and still don't see results, I eat a shit ton.

When I stepped on the scale at Weight Watchers today, I weighed in at 182.2. I was devastated. I wanted to crumple up into a heap on the floor and sob. But I felt so numb that I didn't even know how to react. I knew that I had no one else to blame but myself.

Even though I know I deserved to gain some weight, I still get so caught up in hating the card I was dealt. Why can't I have a faster metabolism? Why can't I eat how all of my friends do? I think that has been the hardest part of this whole journey. Acceptance. I just can't accept that I have to work harder to remain thinner. I try really hard to accept it and move on, but it's a constant struggle. I am an emotional basket case, all the time. I am serious when I say that weight loss is by far the most emotionally draining process that I have ever been through.

I weighed myself at the gym tonight and the scale said 180. So not as bad as it was earlier today, but still not exactly where I want to be. That still means I gained 3 pounds. In one weekend. Yikes. I am hoping that it will move back down to 177 by Friday. I always retain some water after drinking on the weekend.

So in an effort to avoid emotionally eating all week, I am going to let this serve as a wake up call for me. I am going to try and kick some major ass this week. I just got back from the gym and I will say that I think I have finally reconnected with my love for fitness.

I was finding everything to be really motivating. While I was stretching, there was a girl next to me who was counting under her breath the number of seconds on her plank. I found it inspiring to see her working so hard. I also found the women's locker room to be inspiring. Mind out of the gutter, sickos. It was just that every girl that walked in was sweating, breathing heavy, and clearly had worked hard. I just need to keep up this positive attitude and maybe I will finally see a number that I like by Friday. Fingers crossed.