frustrations

I know, I know, I don’t write here often, and there are several reasons for this
1) Priorities. In order not to go mad, I have to prioritise. In terms of writing priorities, first comes work, then my normal blog, then emails on my ‘oh christ haven’t I emailed you back yet’ list, then here, sadly. Sorry.
2) Frustrations.

I find losing weight a very difficult thing to talk about, and to write about, therefore. I don’t like talking about it, because … well, it’s even a very difficult list of becauses, apparently.

I don’t like talking about it because I don’t like I don’t like the reaction you get, when talking to people, sometimes - like they want to give you a blue peter badge for doing what they and society thinks is the Right Thing To Do. “Oh yes, well, you were fat, and now! You’re so much thinner! You must be so much happier!” And I don’t really want to get into that with people sometimes, because I am happier in some ways, and I am more confident in some ways, but agreeing with that sentiment always feels like I’m somehow reinforcing their belief that all fat people are unhappy and constantly self-hating, which is just not (and should never be) true.

I also don’t like talking about it because I’m just doing it so slowly. I first started getting aware of my desire to be a healthier and more body confident person at least two years ago. I joined a gym about a year and a half ago, which was really the turning point, and since then, I’ve rid myself of four or five stone of unhealthy body - which I’m pleased about, but it’s been such a very slow and boring process (an awful lot of exercise and eating healthily, I wish I had something so sexy as crash diets and miracle cures to write about) and hard work, and really not that interesting to talk about, or write about, I tend to think.

Trust me, I can talk about it for HOURS. I just don’t know why anyone would be interested - because women and their body issues are different for everybody, and people who haven’t for whatever reason been as successful as they wanted to be might be sad and cross and not want to hear about it; and people who have been more successful than they ever thought will think that I haven’t tried hard enough to have only got this far etc etc etc.

Mostly, I haven’t wanted to talk about it because I’m so mad with myself for making such slow progress. I keep telling myself that I should get to a certain weight or a certain size by a certain date. Or that when I get to this weight or this size or this BMI I’ll consider going swimming or getting married or having a baby or whatEVER, but it just takes So FUCKING long that…

See? Frustrating.

I know I’m doing well. I’m not any good at telling myself I’m doing well, whatever it is I’m doing, but I’m really bad at telling myself I’m doing well at this. And so I’m so scared when I do seem to be inching down the scales, that I’m going to ruin that somehow; jinx it by talking about it; something … that I shy away from talking about it at all.

I’m so frustrated at the moment, though.

A several month plateau has turned, at least, into the very gradual decline in heaviness, but so slow. So achingly, horribly slow, that I’m just cross with myself all the time.
For being weak - and, you know, wanting to enjoy food as well as live - all those dull things.

And … well, you know … lots of other things.
That’s why *I’M* shit at writing here very often at the moment.

Because I’m not an expert on anything, because if I was an expert, I’d be losing weight.
And I’m not a success story.
And I’m not a spokesperson for anyone at all.
I’m just in the middle, here, neither there nor fat.