Well, I’ve fallen off the wagon. All of my efforts at healthy living have fled and are now out the window. Not only is this hugely disappointing, but I suddenly feel bigger than ever. I’m to the point that I don’t even want to look in the mirror because I’m afraid of what I’ll see. In other words, I’m disgusted with what I’ve become.
I’ve mentioned this before, but my boyfriend’s sons now temporarily live with us. They are rail-thin, having grown up with a very health-conscious mother. She is a vegetarian who runs at least five miles every day. I don’t need to say this, but she’s gorgeous and has an equally gorgeous body. She eats oat bran muffins for breakfast, quinoa seeds for lunch, and raw fruits and vegetables for dinner. The boys have taken up most of these habits for themselves, which means they never touch things like potato chips, cookies, or candy. They drink only water and coffee – never pop – and have been known to partake of nothing more than cottage cheese topped with cinnamon for dinner.
It’s safe to say that having them here only accentuates my horrible eating habits, lack of exercise and obvious body fat. I am nothing like their mother in terms of size or weight, and that makes me very self-conscious. I’m afraid that each time I eat, they’re thinking to themselves, “She really doesn’t need that.”
Several days ago, I enjoyed my usual lunch of a peanut butter sandwich (on wheat) with potato chips (awful, I know!). I heard them preparing to come downstairs and jumped from the couch like a bullet. I hurriedly folded the chip bag, tucked it under my arm like a football, and darted to the kitchen. I stowed it in the cupboard in the hopes they hadn’t seen me sitting in the living room stuffing my face with yet another meal of unhealthy food.
This event is made even more ridiculous by the fact that they weren’t coming downstairs at all. They were just rustling around upstairs, but I’m so paranoid about my eating habits that I thought for sure they would be before me in mere moments. I made a total idiot of myself for no reason.
If I weren’t so dense, I would see the lesson here is that I need to revamp my habits. I shouldn’t feel paranoid about the food I’m eating, worried that somebody will be completely disgusted by what I put in my mouth. I shouldn’t have to worry about my weight being the first thing people notice on me. And I shouldn’t feel like a cow in my own home, shamed by two boys who were blessed with naturally healthy habits and perfectly-shaped bodies.
I haven’t been to Curves in almost three weeks. No wonder everyone there thinks I’m full of false intentions… my actions have confirmed this time and again. I don’t even take myself seriously anymore, because I always choose to over-indulge rather than embark on a new path. My hope out of all this misery is that having the boys here will keep me from eating so much garbage. I haven’t bought any cookies or other sweets since they arrived, and my pop intake is at a bare minimum because I know they look down their noses at it. While I don’t fully condone their attitudes toward eating (all health and not even a little treat now and then), I’m thinking it wouldn’t hurt if some of their elitist attitudes rubbed off on me.