Another Whirl Around

My friends, it has been awhile. It's nothing against this blog, life just started to get in the way! It has been one rollercoaster of a year, and not even in a bad way! I've seen my best friend give birth to a beautiful baby girl, seen the love and support of family & friends gather around me for 2 wonderful bridal showers & a bachelorette party, took a once and a lifetime trip to Cancun with a good friend, married my best friend in the hands down best day of my life, and then followed it up with an over the top absolutely amazing honeymoon to Cabo San Lucas, and then accepted a long term teaching job at my alma mater fulfilling my dream of actually getting paid to do what I love, teach. I really have no excuses to complain about nothing.

Somewhere within all this joy, love and amazingness, darkness crept in though. It was an unexpected right hook into the gut last week when I finally decided to take what my scale had to say seriously. But let me back up first....

On my wedding day I was 2 pounds within my goal. For all intends and purposes, I had reached what I had set out to do. I was 2 pounds within eliminating the Freshman 15 and in my mind I was a success. Trust me, success had never felt sweeter. I'll admit I didn't always go about it in the best of ways. I fell off the wagon about Thanksgiving, but I wasn't a slave to ED like I had been in the past. More than anything I was giving into boredom, and just felt the need to let off steam with food, and "consequences." None the less, two days before my wedding nothing had felt better in the 18 month struggle than seeing all my hard work pay off. I was determined to eliminate the last 2 post wedding, and get on with my married life in a stable happy weight bubble. Boy, was I wrong.

I know why it screwed up. I started assuming the weight would stay off even though I wasn't tracking what I was eating, wasn't staying in the gym, and really over indulging in everything. I started playing "f**k f**k" games with the scale again to trick myself into believing I had only put on a pound or 3. Still happy, still content, still no consequences.

After 3 Oktoberfest weekends in a row of nothing but beer, fried food, and soft pretzels, I knew I had probably put on a little and needed to see what I should work for to get it off. AKA, in my mind one really hard work week at the gym and a couple stingy lunches should take care of that problem. What I saw instead unraveled 18 months of hard work in no less than 2 months. I WAS DEVISTATED. And I had to teach in less than 45 minutes. Nothing hits me harder than weight gain. I usually am able to bounce back from bad fights with my husband, disappointing time management, or other things that bring me down, but this is one thing that will instantly bring me to tears and rarely leaves without leaving my day in ruins. Last Friday was no exception. I knew it was time to take a change, again. It moments of weakness and desperation, I knew I had to turn somewhere. I feel friends and family get sick of this ramble, a been there done that with me kind of scenario. I just don't know what to do.

After a week of actually dedicating myself to the gym, eating well within my points, and even taking it pretty easy on the weekend as far as food goes, I still found zero success this morning. I'm in a rut, I'm trapped, and I'm afraid it’s going to take a darker turn for the worst. For whatever reason I logged onto this for the first time in almost a year and read the old me. The me who was determined, the me who took her frustrations and anger and hopes and dreams out through blogging. Maybe I had it right last year; maybe I need something to keep me accountable. If I feel my friends and family can't do that because I no longer want to bother them, then maybe it’s down to me to keep me accountable.

Let’s give this a whirl.... again!