Well, I think I lost a little weight, but not a whole heck of a lot. I look at the scale and it refuses to go under the one number I’ve been trying to go under since February. I’m two pounds away. Same old behaviors too are tripping me up. I do really well for about four or five days (during the work week I’m fine until Friday.) Then whammo, I see chocolate, I see sugar, I want I want I want.

I keep telling my self, “don’t beat yourself up”. My weight is staying the same, within 2-5 pounds. Is that so bad? Not if I were a normal eating person. When one has more than 100 pounds to lose, not losing is so frustrating! I think I’d like my band to be so tight I couldn’t do anything but drink protein. Maybe then I could get the 100 pounds off. I don’t think that would be a very healthy way to address my issues though. Once the band restriction was reduced, I’m sure I’d go right back to eating the “same old way” and the weight would fly back on.

Do you think I’m meant to stay fat? I think my identity is wrapped up in it. It’s almost like my belly is a pet. Yes, it gets in the way of picking up a shiny dime. It gets in the way of alot of other things too. Yet, I’m so use to it being there, maybe that’s why I don’t lose the weight. I don’t see myself as a thin person.

I sure do like feeling better, though, I confess. I know as the weight comes off I will feel better and better. So, why wouldn’t I choose to do that?

I returned to Fast Track this week and again had lost about a pound, according to their records. So, shouldn’t I be pleased? I didn’t put 100 pounds on in 8 months, so I’m not losing 100 pounds in 8 months either.

I can’t believe by the time of the wedding in October, I will have had the lap band for one year. I think I expected more, but I know I also didn’t know what to expect. Last year brought profound changes in my life. Between the four surgeries, Emily moving back home and Fred igniting our romance, I’d say last year to now has been life altering in every way. So shouldn’t I pat myself on the back for surviving? Shouldn’t I be glad that the stresses, both good and bad, didn’t make me “explode” in overeating, gaining weight, or “short circuiting” in some other fashion? Maybe I can be proud of that.

This duo relationship I have with myself is a love/hate thing, up/down, happy/sad, confident/insecure and on and on. Yin-yang. It seems to be a theme with me. A record with a scratch in it, repeat, repeat, repeat.

Maybe I need to cut myself a little slack.