I finally stepped foot back into the room at WeightWatchers. I had to. HAD to. I'm getting ridiculous. Really. I gained nine pounds since January. That is one pound per month! Damn! I can't do that. If I continued to gain a pound a month by the time I am 60 (in two years and eight months) I'd be another 32 pounds heavier and that much closer to my grave. My feet have started bothering me again, my hips hurt at night when I just want to sleep. I just want to sit around, I don't want to move, I don't even like having to get up to get myself food anymore! (That's bad.)
My psychologist told me the last time I talked to her that she was going to start monitoring me and my weight. I talked to her on the 26th last month and she told me to get to WW that week. I put it off til today. Of course.
I didn't really want to even go today. I put it off until I absolutely had just enough time to get there. I just hate leaving the house. My whole weekend was cut short because Of some errands I had to do, which meant I had to leave the house. I need to get past this mindset. I am too comfortable just laying or sitting around here. The fact that I have no energy is a big factor in not getting up and doing or going anywhere.
So. I will try again. The meeting leader told me not to beat up on myself. Just remember I am human. And keep. coming. back.
So I am going back to being whole on the disappearing act over there to the right. Come back next week and see if I did any good!