I knew this would happen. I exercise and nothing. I’m not surprised. Maybe if I hadn’t had those 2 Starbucks Hot Chocolates, the biscuits, the chocolate bars, the cake or the other ridiculous things I ate and drank they would have budged. So on second thoughts, maybe it wasn’t the exercise. Maybe.
I’m currently going through a phase where I can’t seem to get my head back in the game. I don’t know why this is. I feel like I’m currently in a tail spin of self sabotage and I need to fix it. Fast. It’s stupid because I know I’m doing it. I spend the whole time making my mug brownie thinking “why am I doing this?”, but I still go ahead and make it. Last week I was really good with the exercise, I just couldn’t seem to say no to treats. This week has been no better, if anything worse as I’ve not got on the elliptical since Friday. We had dans sister over Saturday which was lovely, so I got in some gin and tonic as it’s the lowest syned alcohol drink there is – then proceeded to eat half a Gü millionaires cheesecake, several Strawberry Daquiris, and a large roast dinner with beef dripping potatoes and mashed swede with heaps of butter. Not friendly. For hangover breakfast on Sunday, I had a fry up. A big one. On Sunday evening our power sockets blew and we had no oven, so we ordered an Indian. I didn’t even try to be good – I had a starter, a naan and a curry. Last night, we decided to order fish and chips because we couldn’t be assed to cook. So I had chips and a chow mein, complete with spring roll starters. There has also been no exercise. I’ve been busy writing my assignment, but not so busy that I couldn’t have just made some free food with pasta – or ordered a chicken kebab which is the lowest syned takeaway. It’s frustrating because I know I’m making the wrong choice, and I know that afterwards I will feel bad about it – but at the time I’m just focusing on what I want, and what I want is bad.
It’s so annoying. I don’t deserve sympathy, I know this is completely on me, I just don’t know what’s currently going on with me. I have a goal. I have a wedding date. I don’t want to be the same size then that I am now. I want to be 2 sizes smaller. I also don’t want to start gaining and I know that if this doesn’t stop that is what will happen. One day of being bad isn’t going to matter, but 2 days? 3 days? 4 days? A week? Two weeks? If I don’t stop soon I’m going to start going the other way and that would just kill me. I’ve worked so hard to get down here and even though I’m not there yet, I just can’t seem to get my fat ass back on the wagon. I feel like a failure. I am a failure. It’s not a very good time for me and fat club atm, and it’s not fat club. It’s me. I’ve kind of resigned myself to a gain on the scales this week. I’ve already been so bad that there’s nothing I can do to fix it, I just need to start on some damage limitation.
Speaking of, I have actually made myself a proper free SW breakfast for tomorrow, and I have a free soup defrosting in the fridge. I don’t know what I’m going to do about dinner as we’ve had no time to go shopping and I have to finish my assignment tomorrow. I know I need to draw a line under all of this. I’m going to try my utmost to be good, and if that fails – then at least come Monday I will be raring to go. I’m not saying I’m writing this week off and I’m just going to eat pizza, I just mean that for whatever reason I seem to have more motivation on Mondays. It’s weird. I know. Anyway. It’s late and I’m tired. I feel like my self pitying whining has drained me so I’m going to sleep.