The Magic Number

My "comfortable" weight has changed a bit over time depending on...I'm not sure what exactly. It's just some magic number I make up in my head anyways that is certainly not based on medical recommendations. It's whatever my obsessed mind decides is OK for however given amount of time. Whatever number I decide to justify as acceptable. It can change at a moment's notice. It goes up and down. Back when I first started loosing weight I would stare at the scale in awe as I made it into the 130's. I thought that was pretty cool but of course I wanted more. Don't we always? I was jumping for joy to be in the 120's. I actually believed that my body would never allow me to drop below 120 until it did.

I hung out in the teens for a while constantly hungry. Starving and exercising my way into size 0's and to maintain until I finally gave in to the exhaustion of it all. I failed. My ruined metabolism would no longer cooperate and up I crept back into the dreaded 120's all the way to 126 at one point. I had no choice because my body refused to budge no matter how little I ate. So, I started eating more regularly so I could fix my metabolism. It was horrible to see the scale going up and I just wanted to jump out of my skin. I couldn't stand to feel the weight of fabric on my bulging breasts and thighs. After a while I couldn't take it anymore and so I started restricting a bit and was comfortable to be at 122. I stayed there relatively happy for a while. It was fine until it wasn't and 120 became the new 122. Then, 118 became the new 120. 116 was the new 118 for about the last month or so but now I want 115. 115 sounds nice. Since as of this morning I am 1/2 pound over that I feel that my motivation to restrict is renewed. I wasn't really trying before. Somehow the weight loss was just happening and it was so easy that I was actually enjoying the ride. Before it was a grueling regimen. Exciting when I'd loose yes, but such a battle all the time. But this time around for reasons unknown I am not struggling. Yes, I get hungry but not excruciatingly so because I am eating unlike before. I haven't even bothered with exercise.

It's one thing to know you overindulged and to gain and quite another thing to reasonably restrict and to still gain. Both are unacceptable but the latter makes me feel so helpless and out of control. It makes me want to strive for lower and restrict harder out of fear and because my body is not doing what I think it should. What I want it to.

I've been OK not writing down food and cal's everyday in my planner. Yesterday was pbj, coffee, 2 See's candies, RF Cheesits and Yoplait. Typical work day snacks. For dinner I had a reduced fat hot dog, a handful of pretzels, string cheese and a diet soda. Writing it all out like that sounds so much food but it's no more then I've been doing. And I gained. I really hate that. Jeez...I eat a lot. It's no wonder.

The lower my weight the harder it gets to maintain usually. Weight is and always has been an thing for me which I generally can't stand. I cope with it sometimes better then others but lately because I haven't necessarily been striving for a certain weight it hasn't been that much of a struggle emotionally and physically. I don't want it to get to that point although I fear that is exactly where I am headed.