I think I don’t give a fuck anymore

I found myself saying to a friend the other night, “Yeah, I’m fat.  So fucking what?”  So fucking what indeed.

I think no one but me is surprised that I totally broke my diet by now.  I am back on it, but yeah, I did break it for about 2-3 days there.

I had a week’s long vacation, followed by 3 parties back to back, so a lot of temptation and hunger to withstand, combined with my frustration that I hadn’t seen the scale move in a while… maybe it was an unrealistic expectation to have such iron will for such a long period of time.  (Also incidentally why I have sort of slacked off with my blogging…just busy with life :))

But you know what, instead of kicking myself and telling myself I was weak and all this nonsense for not sticking to my plan, and doubling down, I did something else.

Basically I decided I don’t care.

Because it was so much fun.  It was SO much fun.  I got to eat stuff that I almost never eat, ever, and drank things I barely ever drink, ever, and Damn it did I enjoy it.  It was a ton of fun.  Maybe it was actually worth it.

I’m still getting the tummy tuck in December even though I’m not at my goal weight and barring some unforeseen circumstances, probably won’t be there in time.

I could delay the surgery but… I’m not going to.

Everybody, I’m just ready to be done with this.

I’m ready to stop hating myself for something I have tried so hard to control but can’t.

I am just sick and tired of being sick and tired of not achieving a perfect body.

I’m ready to focus on other things that actually matter.

I’m ready to accept myself the way I am, even if it’s not perfect.

I love myself enough to realize that people that I love and people that I want to love me will love me despite my current weaknesses, and if they don’t, then they aren’t worth my time.

I’m going to take this short cut, then I will accept the end, no matter what it is, and then I will wash my hands of this self-hatred and obsession and M-O-V-E O-N with my life for once.

I don’t know what moving on means but I know it’s not this.

I’m still going to do my best to eat right and exercise.  Now, and in the future.  And maybe I’ll lose more weight, maybe I won’t, but come January 1st, “Lose Weight” is NOT going to be one of my resolutions.  I am sooooo over it.  My resolution is to resolve to do something ELSE.

Soon, very soon, I’m choosing to work on something else.  Something bigger, something better, something more.

So yup, maybe I’ll be fat, maybe I won’t, maybe I’ll have a bikini body, maybe I won’t, but ultimately I just do not give a fuck anymore.

Leave a Reply