I'm Back (GdeE)

Hello all, I am back and I have some points to note:

(1) I have new scales!  Real Weight Watchers ones, with the bonus of telling the correct weight.  They also have many other functions like muscle mass and some measurement of fat, but I am not all that convinced on the science behind these measures, so I am more likely to use plain old weight along with roominess of clothes to track any progress I make, if indeed I do.

• Current weight: averaging about 67kg.
• Weight after Joseph: 64kg on a good day.
• Total loss: Negative 3 kg.  Way to go.
• Goal 1: Don't go over 67kg
• Goal 2: 64kg
• Goal 3: 60kg

(2) I still don't believe it is possible to actually lose weight.  I couldn't gain it when I was skinny, and I can't lose it when I'm not.  I eat okay and I tear around all day long being incredibly active, but I still have a huge barrelous tummy.  I made the word 'barrelous' up.  I truly, deep down, have no actual belief that I will ever decrease the fat on my tummy or the looseness and flabbiness after having children.  I don't believe it.  Just so you know.  It will be no use if you try to convince me otherwise, I will need to see some actual evidence that it is possible before I trust in something so outlandish.

(3)  I used to look damn awesome.  I was a C-cup with a nice waist and skinny arms and legs.  As Hippomanic Jen can attest, this was in the days of shocking, awful, ghastly panic attacks which would last for about three weeks at a time, causing me to throw up, have diarrhoea and have absolutely no appetite at all for days on end.  I knew during this time that I had an awesome figure but the level of existential dread that covered my entire life precluded me from enjoying it in any form.  I said in those days, and I meant it with every fibre of my being, that I would rather be fat and happy.  If you'd lived through the panic attacks I'd lived through, you'd totally understand.  Anyway, here I am: fat and happy.  (Slightly fat and very happy.)  I feel it would be selfish of me now to want to be thin and happy.  I feel I can attempt it if I want to, but I have no right to be upset at my fatness.

(4) I am upset at my fatness.  I look awful.  Well, maybe not that bad.  But I hate the way I look.

(5) I ate well (if a little much on one day) over Christmas, but I had an awful fat moment that destroyed me inside.  My sister was looking particularly willowy in a long clingy skinny dress (she is still in the land of panic attacks, wouldn't you know it) and I complimented her on how good she looked.  She accepted the compliment and then did something that only she could do.  She pointedly snatched the Jatz & dip away from me and plonked a plate of cut apple and orange down in front of me.  It was done with an air of significance.  A few things:
(a)(a) to celebrate my 6 weeks without dip, I made the dip for Christmas with roasted beetroot from my own garden, roasted garlic and low-fat Greek yoghurt, 
(b)(b) It was CHRISTMAS DAY dammit! 
And because of my fatness I feel I have no right to complain about this, to splurge on Christmas Day, or to do anything apart from eat the darn apple.

(6) I have been worried about the tightness of a particular pair of 3/4 jeans.  Surely, I reason, I fit into my Size 12s okay and my Size 14s are a little too loose so that's okay, but why are these particular jeans so desperate to cut me in half when I bend over?  Were they always this tight?  I checked the size.  10.  Rock on.  Not worried about that one anymore.

(7) I got heaps of exercise in the surf on our holiday.  It felt awesome.  I am always quite active, but rarely get to the puffing, raised-heart-rate stage which is what I need.  Today the weather is nice enough to take the dawg for a walk.  If we come across an unleashed dog in our travels, I also get the exercise benefit of lifting the entire border collie off the ground and holding her over my head so she doesn't kill the other dog.  I am sure that burns a few extra calories every time I do it.

And that is all.