…regarding my guts, my butt and my lungs

After dieting and/or obsessing over my weight for the last 20 years, I have finally come to a place where I’m comfortable with my size. I’m not necessarily happy with it, but I am comfortable.
I come from a weight conscious family. An even better way to describe it would be my appearance conscious family. They’ve decided what you look holds more weight than who you are. Sad – I know. But mom & pop are both successfully retired, kinda healthy & quite happy so whatever…
 
Truth remains, their judgment has forced me into a lifetime of action, and as such… I diet! I workout obsessively, I count calories, I write down store lists and recipies, I spend hours researching the internet for a quick health fix. I pop energy pills, I buy exercise videos, I go to the gym, I clinch my butt in the elevator…. My last attempt was a lemonade detox for 2 weeks. I gave it a try…all the while eating handfuls of nonsense on the sneaks and smoking cigarettes which I promised to give up. (I went on the detox not to lose weight, but to quit smoking). I fasted for weeks then gorged for 4 days. I suck at healthy!
 
The smoking… I hate it! Often referred to as my nicotine addiction – I swear at the end of every pack that its my last pack.. then I buy another pack. My brother gave me an electronic cigarette as a gift, on his birthday (sweet brother), those suckers are full of nicotine! It makes me crave cigarettes more than the damn cigarettes themselves.
 
The diet & exercise… I want to be lean and fit and svelte and sexy, but I also LOVE french fries, and mexican food, and butter, and rich delicious cake, and snacks. I work out till I sweat and pass out. I love the level of my libido after a few days of regular exercise. Then, there’s a day when sleep feels good and white trash (flour, sugar, salt) is all that I want.
 
Truth is – sometimes, there’s nothing better than a menthol and a merlot.
 
I’m a size 8 – a squishy, dimply, endurance challenged size 8. I can dress my body to look superb. I can work the hair and make-up and truly convince people that I’m a fit, fly, fox…. I’m not.
 
I’m a mess of processed food toxins, tar, nicotine and rat poison, alcohol and marijuana.
 
But, all in all – I suppose I’m ok with it. I must be… I keep doing it.
 
Maybe when I have to put my booty where my belief is, I’ll face the facts and get my act together… Maybe I won’t fain fit, but rather I’ll actually be “in good shape”. Maybe I’ll learn to loathe fast food. Maybe Carne Asada fries will be my enemy instead of my comfort and joy.
 
All that said – I’m not complaining, just stating… Being alive and not in the “obese Americans” or “dying of lung cancer” categories are sufficient for today.
 
…and The maple syrup, cayenne pepper, lemon diet proceeded by swf… I highly recommend it. It wasn’t too difficult, actually tasted yummy, I definitely lost weight and gained energy… it was the moment the diet was over that I bought Pal Mal’s and McDonalds… My bad!
 
Did I mention – I suck at being healthy?
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