My jeans are feeling looser on this sunny spring morning (plus, I can comfortably suck my stomach in without superhuman effort -- starting my period two days ago probably didn't hurt in that matter), and for it I am eternally grateful. This small revelation even encouraged me to try on the brand new, never worn, L.L.Bean Relaxed Fit, size 18 Women's, X-mas, haven't-been-able-to-get-into-since-I-received-them jeans...and...., they weren't terrible. Still on the snugly side, but they're zipping. And that's a start. Actually I'd say it's pretty close -- just another few pounds until they're truly comfortable. I could probably get by with wearing them even now because they'd stretch a bit -- but, I've waited this long, so what's a little more waiting....
It's been a few weeks now since I, with not-a-little trepidation, stepped on the scale in the bathroom of a relative's house (we don't own a scale ourselves), and registered the numbers 2-5-0. (...!!!...), nearly causing me to pitch myself off the thing right then and there. Never could I have imagined I'd ever see those numbers, strung together like that, in that order, in relation to my weight, in relation to me.
I gulped and swallowed hard. And then I began thinking. And thinking some more....
My previous all-time highest recorded weight was 245 pounds, what I weighed in just a few short months ago, back in January upon rejoining (emphasis on the 're') Weight Watchers. I thought THAT had been a shock -- and yet there I was, now 5 pounds HEAVIER (while $145 membership dollars lighter. Go me). Good Lord. Where was this going to end? When was it going to stop? Could it stop? Yes. It had to. But how??? How could I stop it?????
I think I saw a little of The Light that day. And I'm clinging to hope it was a turning point....
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