It's Monday, and Memorial Day.
I've got another weigh-in to report. After three weeks of stagnation, I have some movement in the scale to report.
It's movement, but not in the direction I had hoped. Last week I weighed 241.5. This week I'm up 2.7 pounds. I'm mad, but not just about this one number.
I have this feeling like I don't have control over my life. I have been stuck around the same weight for an entire year now, and while I have experienced plenty of non-scale victories since then, I still feel stuck. If there's candy, cake, or bad food, I can't help but reach for it. No matter how well I think I'm doing, I can somehow justify shoving my fat face full of sweets.
I keep having a dream where my beard is shaved off. I'm not sure how it happened, but at least part of it is always gone. I always freak out about it too. I don't know what it means, but it always makes me feel uneasy.
I feel lost.
I want to be in control. I want to lose weight. I want to feel good about myself. I just don't know where to start.