Kick Up The Butt

Well, this is very amusing… Having finally decided to actually start writing this weight-loss/general moaning blog today, I logged into my blogger.com account to see that it was almost exactly one year ago today that I last blogged. Under a different name. About dieting. And never came back. 

Whilst this doesn't bode well for me (or you, as a reader) I am really going to try to stick with it. This year is all about pulling my finger out, facing challenges, DOING stuff instead of PLANNING to do stuff, fitting into the clothes currently being housed in my bulging wardrobe (why must everything in my life become fat?), using my creativity for good rather than for making my sister cry, and actually becoming the person I feel I am under all this cheap clothing and winter weight. And if you think this sounds a lot like my 'I Am Going To Be 30 — I Need To Change My Life' speech from last year, well you are wrong, my friend. 

I'm not exactly sure how am going to post just yet. Daily seems a bit much, but some of you might genuinely might want to know how many ProPoints I have eaten, or how many poops I can fit in before Weigh Day, or what I am choosing to omit from my tracker and then lie about in class, etc. But I figured that if I post every day and pretend people are reading this, I might actually stick to my weight loss plan/being a better me.

But writing about being fat can get a bit boring, so I am going to try and use it as a diary as well, and write about other things that are going on in my life. So this is a good time to let you know a little bit about me… 

I have probably been dieting since my early teens. My mum is a serial dieter and it has now very much become a part of my life. These days (now I am older and wiser, sort of) I think my weight loss issues have less to do with thinking I am a big fatty-fat-fat and more to do with the fact that I have only ever really wanted to lose about 25lbs — the very fact that I have so little will power to even get me halfway there is frankly, pathetic. But I do hate not fitting into my clothes — some of which I have never even worn. I hate boring my boyfriend and friends with the constant complaining about my fat arms ("Guys, remember the summer where I had amazing 'guns'?"). I hate feeling self-conscious in my baggy t-shirts and leggings. I hate wanting to be slimmer ALL THE LIVE-LONG DAY. And I hate the fact that I would now KILL to be 10st, a weight I hated being approximately 6 years ago. 

And that’s probably all you need to know for now. What more do you need, hmm?