Crisis point

I think I may have hit bottom, a.k.a., my highest weight other than my pregnancy. No bueno.

I am truly depressed about the whole thing. I listened to my weight loss meditation tape (yes, tape!) the other day and woke the next morning hopeful, which is something I haven't experienced in a good while. Another couple days of eating without thinking (or listening to the tape again) and I'm back in the emotional basement.

I simply cannot keep on this way. Life is too short. I'm feeling old. I am dreading hitting the gym because I'm embarrassed by my gain. I am dreading hiking with the kids because I won't be able to keep up. I'm dreading the beach vacation. I'm dreading seeing old friends--in fact, I actively avoid it. This is no way to live.

While walking the dogs this morning I decided to count the number of times I thought about some variant of "I'm jiggly" or "life would be easier if..." or "if I started now, I could be at x pounds by y". I  could go on about those (and maybe I should) but I counted 6 separate times in 15 minutes. That averages out to one thought about weight loss every 2.5 minutes! Just imagine if I refocused that attention on actually losing weight or envisioning what success looks like.