It's back, and I want it gone.
This was me about a year ago when I arrived in England and studied in a 15th century castle. A summer's worth of kayaking, swimming and running had done the trick in keeping in shape...but it wasn't enough,
(References to England happen...a lot. If you're curious about these, I've attached articles I wrote for a magazine chronicling my time there at the end of this post. Feel free to flip through them! If you have any questions, leave a comment and I'd be more than happy to answer!)
Desperation: How would I keep the weight off if I ate?
The answer: I would exercise more.
So I did, but things got a little out of hand. I ate too much, I just—couldn't stop. After a while, I gave up: I would go back to the castle after Christmas, and starve myself. Seems easy, right? Wrong. If there's something I learnt, it's don't, don't, binge thinking you'll "just not eat" the day, or week, or whatever after. It never turns out that way (or maybe it does for you, just not me)...and the weight is crazy hard to get off.
So Christmas came and ended, I went back to England, but didn't lose the weight. My roommate told my friend, "She doesn't cry anymore, she just eats," and that was basically it. Overall, I was much happier. Somehow, though, I don't feel "happier" and "fatter" should have to have anything to do with each other.
I exercised, but the weight didn't come off. It couldn't, not when I was emotionally eating. Traveling to Belgium and Switzerland for two weeks before flying back home was just the cherry on top in feeling like I wanted to crawl out of my skin. So when I finally got home and saw the new, horrible numbers on the scale, I wanted to die.
Dying is not an option. So I did what I was best at: I went on a diet. I gave myself one month to lose as much weight as I could. I wrote down every single thing I ate, cut proportions and did three days of intense exercise, one day off, and on and on and on. And I lost 15 pounds.
So why am I here now, wanting to lose yet more weight? Because I'm not happy, because the emotional eating was a roller coaster on and off throughout the my summer's entirety, and I'm sick of those awful numbers staring back at me on the scale. I just want them to go away.
I just want to finally find something that works for me, that won't fall apart and make it that much harder to get back up again. So, for the past three weeks, I've started over, and it's been going well. My friend and I have been going to the gym six days a week and I eat healthy.But it's so hard when the numbers don't change. And the hardest part is trying to just be happy with it; be happy with "doing my best" when there is always "better".
Have you ever gone on a diet? If so, how did you do it after, when you're at that perfect weight and you shouldn't have to diet but you can't just go back to how it was before? How do you know when enough is enough, and finally learn to ignore the numbers on the scale and just be yourself?
So many questions...and it's far from easy, but I think I'm finally figuring it out. :)
On a side (and completely unrelated) note, my friend sent me this video. It kind of made my day:
What do you think? ;)
If you're curious to know more...
Feel free to flip through these articles I wrote for Backpack Magazine, the "Letters Home" feature near the end of each issue!
November / December (p.35)
January / February (p.35)
March / April (p.37)
May / June (p.37)
July / August (p.37)