So do y'all remember a loooooooooooong time ago when I was doing the MamaPop Loser plan? I said I wanted to lose 20 pounds, but that was a LIE. It was a lie I wanted to tell YOU AND ME. I lied to us! Shame on me! What I RILLY wanted to do was lose 40 pounds, and beeshes and besterds? I am six pounds away from that goal. Six pounds!
I have dropped 34 pounds, and no fanfare for me, though, because those were 34 pounds I had no business lugging around ANYWAY. Do you know how I gained 40 pounds? By eating GARBAGE. Pizza! Calzones! Processed food and tons of sugar! What was I DOING??
Well, it's all a matter of control. My depression was raging, and I felt totally out of control over everything at the time. My apartment was a mess, my weight had ballooned, I was a disaster. And totally and completely out of control of everything. I was, to put it mildly, a complete trainwreck. Even my shrink told me she was scared that this was the episode she wasn't going to get me back from.
Then, Stewie got sick. And I had the Zyprexa nightmare. And when my Stewie passed away and I woke up from the Zyprexa nightmare, I looked at the disaster my home, MY HOME had become, and scrubbed it from top to bottom. And I looked at myself in the mirror and said "Twenty pounds was grand, but all you did was cut out white sugar and white flour, and you can do more. So I decided that 40 was the goal. and dammit, I have a spotless apartment and six pounds to go till I hit my goal.
I couldn't save my cat, but I can have control over these things, dammit.
Six pounds. Ain't no thang but a chicken wing. (which I will not be eating anymore.)