*puff puff*

 A disclaimer: my apologies for apalling spelling over the course of the next week or so, while I’m waiting for my interent to be fixed and am forced to use library computers, backspacing, deleting and correcting seems to take about ten minutes with these computers and by the time I’ve notived I’ve made a  mistake it’s usually about two sentences later, not a problem on my mac but I’m afraid all that backspacing will make the keyboard blow up!

Ok, on with the show. So, as I’ve previously lamented in other incredibly well written and entertaining posts, I gained a bit of weight last year. Ok, a lot of weight. For the most part I take it on the chin, thats what I get for existing on energy drinsk and cherry jaffa cakes for three months, right? So, I’ve got this horrible double chin, a large gut, you know, all that pretty stuff that gets included in the getting fat package.

What annoys me the most, actually, is how out of shape I feel. I’m not a lazy person, I take the stairs and walk across parking lots and for awhile I was jogging three times a week. I hate sitting and doing nothing.  I’ve noticed it more the last two weeks as I’ve been coming to the library to study, the study rooms are on the 3rd floor and there are quite a few flights of stairs to get up here, this hasnt ever bothered me before, I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve used the lift over the last 2 years that I’ve come here regularly, and that’s usually because the baby begs to.  But, the last two weeks? It’s a nightmare. I used to jog up the stairs- why walk?  I try to still, but it’s impossible, I’m puffed out after two flights. Even when I walk, I’m out of breath by the time I get to the top and I have to walk into the area puffing like a 30 year pack a  day smoker with a hole in their throat. It’s ridiculous.

I don’t understand how people can bear it. I know that it’s hard to keep the motivation, and even harder when the issue is food and it’s not like you can just stop eating, is it? But, people, I’m at the point where I can’t even walk up the stairs without feeling like I’ve just a run a marathon, it’s crazy.                                              

I’m not going to go on a diet, or make some crazy weight loss commitments, but I am becoming so aware of how being fat is affecting my body, and I can’t stand it. I know what my problem is, it’s comfort eating combined with a sweet tooth. I don’t need to eat smaller portions, or even healthier meals (I do both already), but I have got to get this comfort eating issue under control.  It’s like a drug really, which is disconcerting. I’ve done drugs, crazy addictive drugs, I’ve seen addicts, I’ve lost friends to drugs, I have been there and done that and it didn’t turn me into an addict. I smoked for years, but I never became addicted. I feel amost as if it is a personal, I get through all of that without addiction getting its claws into me and now I’m fighting what may in fact be an addiction to carbohydrates? WTF? That’s preposterous, right?  

Yet, here I am. Struggling with it, feeling like I can’t control it,  like when I’m crying and the world seems like such a damn desert of pain, I have to eat something, a pie, cookies, pastries, bread, I just have to eat it.  It sounds disgusting, pathetic, ridiculous, and maybe it is, it feels that way to me, but maybe thats what addiction is? I don’t know, it’s sad and it makes me ache for those facing musch more destructive addictions, and makes me feel as if I’m being melodramatic comparing eating cakes to being a junkie, but when you’re at that point, staring into the dessert section and trying to decide between the trifle, the cheesecake, the chocolate sponge, and the strawberry tart, and only making that decision because you know it would be to expensive and would look weird to buy all of them, even though you would eat them all, want them all because you think that is the only thing in the world that will make the damn tears stop, the pain stop, the heartache stop.

That sounds like a real addiction to me. Though,  I don’t know what my plan of action is, if any, but I do know I’m not going to sit back and let it destroy my life.

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