fatty mcfatterson

A few months ago, I was happy to note that I had not gained any weight since the wedding. Then, my scale did an evil thing. It decided to add 10 pounds. Either my scale was just freaking out and showing the wrong number, or it had been freaking out and showing me the wrong number for the last year and it has finally gone sane again and showed my real [fatty] weight. So between deciding to be gluten-free again and my sudden realization that I weighed about as much as a fat porpoise, I deduced it would be a good time to go to the gym. recently ive been working out quite a lot. Like 4 times a week, a lot. That is how determined I am to be the size of a trim porpoise. Between that and eating rabbit food every day for the last almost 3 months, I had decided a reasonable amount of weight to lose in that time is 5 lbs. Trying not to get my hopes up too much right? WRONG. I have lost no pounds, let alone 5. I have lost no inches either. Lame huh? My mother and my husband say that they can see that ive toned up a bit, particularly in my stomach area, but I feel delusional when I think I look more fit. This is a problem. Not because I feel like I havent lost any weight regardless of how much ive worked out or how much lettuce ive consumed. But because I feel bad about myself, even though I should be happy by the effort ive made, and the fact that im [relatively] healthy. I feel like I look huge, even though im know im actually not. But its hard not to feel depressed when your jeans wear thin in the crotch area from your legs rubbing together, or the fact that you happen to wear the largest size in the store if you decided to buy a reasonably well fitting size that doesn’t result in muffin top. I guess I can just be happy that my husband likes my badonkadonk butt and keep eating healthily and hope that I shrink horizontally.

I wish there was a way for my self-esteem to work out with my fat.