How, I ask you, can I weigh 274 on Sunday and 281 on Monday? It's not a blip on the scale. I'm more inclined to believe the 281, unfortunately, since this morning I weigh 284.5.
I thought I said goodbye to the 280's months ago. It really distresses me to face the truth. My fun weight tracker doesn't even begin as high as 284, because I didn't think I'd see that number again.
Scream! Whine! Deny!
I truthfully acknowledge I'm doing very little to move the scale down. I don't exercise; I don't record my food online with Weight Watchers; I eat what I want even if I'm not hungry. Last night, after a dinner of tuna on rice cakes, I munched on rice crackers (the entire package), home made french onion dip, and finished off my quart of Rocky Road ice cream (I'm guesstimating I ate 1 1/2 cups).
Gee, why am I not losing weight?
I can't control how much water I retain, how my hormones fluctuate, or how my meds may be affecting my weight loss efforts.
I can control my snacking and emotional eating. It takes strength and courage, but I can do it.
I have to.