I wouldn’t say I fell off the wagon, exactly, but vacation set me on a path and that path is called “struggle.”
I’m not on the wagon, I’m on the struggle bus.
Y’all know I don’t get the kind of support at home that I want. It makes it harder. It does not make it impossible, as the first 50 pounds of weight loss can attest. During our vacation, I wanted to be more restrained with our dining out than we were, but my husband wanted to go out to eat for every meal (and I do mean every meal/snack/craving he had) the entire time. We didn’t, of course, because we couldn’t afford it if we wanted to, but a relentless pressure like that on someone vulnerable like myself was darn hard to resist. Hubby isn’t interested in the money part or the health part of that scenario and is very much in the “every man for himself” camp. I mean, he can’t afford camp, either, but that’s beside the point.
I’m not complaining, I’m explaining.
Anyhoo, I did okay on vacation. I definitely wasn’t “dieting”, but I also wasn’t binging every day all day. So I have that going for me. But the eating pattern on vacation has sort of become a default for me at home. It’s like I can’t shake it. I’m not overindulging like the good old days, but I’m not going to lose weight this way either. Plus,there are some sucky bits to where I’m at right now. My arm flaps aren’t exactly a joy. They have deflated a bit and are extra saggy. They actually flop onto the very sensitive touch screen on my washer and dryer when I’m doing stuff (I’m short) and changes my settings. Let’s say that again – my arm flaps change the settings on my washer and dryer. Hoo boy. If it didn’t cost a bazillion dollars, I’d have them trimmed in the interim.
I don’t want this, though. I am not in a place where stopping is a good decision. I mean, I may stop before I hit “ideal weight”, but not while still super morbidly obese.
I’m going to have to tighten up the ship a bit. I’m trying to shorten my eating window to 4-6 hours. I’m trying to slow down when eating/how much. I’m trying to be more active. Not exercise, necessarily, but like yard work type activity. I hate yard work, but we have a lot to do and we don’t want to pay for it. Usually I try to rope hubby in and do it together, but that’s more hassle than it’s worth, so I’m taking 30 minutes to an hour a day to tackle some stuff. It might help the yard and possibly myself. The good news is, an hour in the yard doesn’t render me worthless and in pain for the rest of the day, so that is most definitely a win. I’m 309 pounds, but I can work in the yard for an hour!
That’s where it is right now. xo