132.7kgs

I weighed myself today for the first time since June of last year. Big mistake. Not that I did weigh myself, but that for such a long time, I didn't. I get so complacent when I don't weigh myself but when I do, I get obsessive and eventually end up eating myself into a depression because of how slowly the numbers move. It's such a vicious circle.

I knew that I had gained weight because my clothes simply do not fit any more. I can't wear my jeans (that I bought in the USA when I was 116kgs- for crying out loud!) for any length of time without feeling like they're cutting me in half. I can't wear some of my tops without threatening to burst out of the seams. My wardrobe has effectively been cut in half by my laziness and inability to stop eating foot that are high in fat, sugar and salt.

I had no idea what I was expecting when I stood on the scales this morning. The massive number which stared me in the face was neither a shock nor a surprise, merely fact.

So, here I go again. I'll have to dig out all my old WW gear and start counting points. I know when I count points that the weight will fall off me- I just hate doing it because I can become quite obsessive (there's that word again) about it and it ends up boring me, literally, to tears.

I am going out for an hours walk now.

For fucks sake, why can't I just wake up thin tomorrow?

Arrrrggghhhhhhhhh!