So. I stepped on the scale the other day. And the scale shouted at me:
You Are Fat.
This is not a surprise, necessarily -- I have a mirror -- but the actual number of pounds was an unpleasant surprise. Why did I stand on the scale in the first place? Because I did look in the mirror, and I knew it was time to Do Better. I needed to know what I was up against. And now I know.
When I look in that mirror, I see Age. And even more, I see Weight. Despite the tremendous 'Body Acceptance' movement in the media these days, I cannot come to terms with how I look now. And so I am trying, again, to Do Better. Eat Better. Exercise Better. Treat this body better. And shed some Weight.
The hardest part of it all is the self-loathing, the self-criticism. Lamentable lack of willpower. Lazy. Weak. Ugly. Unattractive. Pathetic.
I try not to listen to those voices.
I will take one day at a time. Work at it one day at a time.I can do it. It will take far, far more time than I would like, though. Alas.
I turn 50 next year. I can be either 50, or Fat, but not both. One is inevitable. The other is optional. We shall see how I do.
Not Poetry Thursday
11 hours ago