Tuesday, September 16, 2008

One day just like the next.

Sometimes being heavy is exhausting. At work every time I get up out of my chair before leaving my cubicle I adjust my bra while seated, stand - pull up my pants, and pull my shirt down at the sides. As I am walking away from my cube I am sucking in the whole front of my body while tugging at the back of my shirt and then the front to make sure it isn't clinging too tightly to me.

I see women who walk around with shirts that are fairly snug against their rolls and they seem to have no problem with it. I don't know if it's because they have been living with it longer than I have, if they don't see themselves as a smaller person on the inside, or if they have a better self image than I do.

Every single day I think about exercising. As I sink further down into the couch in my exhaustion. Tired because I don't get enough sleep, tired because I've worked a full day, and tired because being heavy seems to require a lot of energy. And every night after I have a full belly I think about how tomorrow I am going to eat less, eat better, and how tomorrow it will be easier. I didn't do well today, but I have the resolve now, tomorrow will be better.

Every single night as I lay in my bed and try to go to sleep I think about how tomorrow I will clip on that pedometer and add a hundred steps a day. How I won't spend all evening when I get home on the computer and how much I will accomplish. Tomorrow.

The next day always turns into the same as the day before. There is no resolve when I am hungry and no ambition when I am tired.

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