Scared Bunny

Sometimes I wonder who I am writing for. I have mentioned in the past that it seemed my writing belonged to others. Now I am taking it back. I don’t do this out of anger, but because I need to return my writing to the healthy outlet it used to be. It is like reclaiming a part of my life, or almost like reclaiming part of my body. If you lost an arm, and had to choose whether or not to attach it, you would choose to have the arm. That is what I am choosing. The very first entry was titled “Sometimes you have to tell someone” because what was going on in my life was beyond belief and I needed to vent. Now I once again need something that is mine but that is shared with the world, regardless how small the audience may be.

I fell in to a pattern of depression and I am fighting my way out of it. I would eat when I needed comforting, and my metabolism isn’t exactly designed for that. Now I have a large goal of weight loss I am working on. I go to a gym almost every day just for cardio because I need that built up just to be able to do the other exercises. This has taken a toll on my already fragile ego. I used to know that I was at least semi-good looking. Now I am fat. It’s what I see in the mirror when I get ready to shower. I even had to buy some fat pants.

Consider how this comes at a time when I am single. I used to use personal ads and besides the crazy women I also found a bunch of women who had serious misperception of what an average build is. Now, I know I do not have an average build, but if I tried to date them now we’d be a match. I am superficial, and I admit that. Tricia was and is very attractive, so I was drawn to her. I can’t get the level of woman I desire right now so I wouldn’t try even if I wanted to.

I’m not even happy getting down to the weight I was though. I am mostly looking at what size I want to be. I want a 32 inch waist (If I can without looking bony). I want the smallest waist I can have and be healthy. I am dedicated to diet and exercise like never before. I want to look at myself and be proud of how I look, and I have never felt that way before. I also want to set a good example for my son so he doesn’t follow my bad example.

This, of course, means lots of things like Special K, Slimfast, V-8 and Gatorade (during exercising). I don’t mind the Special K, and the rest are not bad, I guess, but I am a big country cooking kind of guy, so it’s rough right now. It’s not easy to avoid the all you can eat buffets and high fat Chinese food. I know, though, that not avoiding them would be a huge mistake because it’s easier to stay on that balance beam than try to jump off it and land right back in place. If it weren’t gymnasts wouldn’t all be skinny little pixies. They don’t eat a 20 oz. Rib Eye with fries or a baked potato. I could do that every day.

I wish I could get my heart rate up when I’m at work. Imagine if typing kept it at 146 (a good aerobic level). I’d be down to a 32 inch waist in 2 months.

I guess I need to set a realistic goal. If I can lose 3 pounds a week I can be down to the weight I was when we split by New Years, and my target around February. Those are realistic goals if I just stick to it. Thanksgiving may be tough because I have my son, but he hates turkey, so if we don’t have family he and I can do chicken and nothing else special.

God… this just became a Dating, Relationships, Humor, Bipolar, Parenting, Weight loss blog. Now all I need is to learn to knit and to move to Asia and lie about my age.

Labels: fat, life, weight loss, writing