Wednesday, April 08, 2015
I knew it was a bad idea. I knew I would regret it. But I did it anyway. After 2 weeks of taking it easy to get over my virus, this morning I stepped on the scale. I saw 12 stone and my heart plummeted. I never ever wanted to see that number again.
Of course this sent my mind off into a spiral of remembering how some of my clothes don’t quite fit as well as I’m used to, and how my stomach stuck out over the table last night, and thinking that I shouldn’t have eaten this or that or the other, and should have tried harder and done more and, and, and…
It’s just 5lbs, I’ve lost more than that before, and now I’m back to full health I know it will melt away again pretty quick. But still I’m having to try very hard not to panic. My tactic is to keep repeating good things to myself until the panic goes away:
You cannot weigh beauty.
My looks are not the measure of my worth.
I could weigh 20 stone and I would still be a beautiful person, inside and out.
You is kind, you is smart, you is important.
I am strong.
I can do freaking pull-ups – I’m amazing!
I just bought myself a bike; I never stop switching things up. I will never stop improving myself.
I am enough.
I am so much more than my weight.
I can do this.