Triggered

Whew, last post was vicious. Sorry about that.

I guess reading that blog post about the mom of 14 who manages to work out for an hour every single day triggered some serious anger inside me.

I was in a horrible mood for the rest of the day.

When I got home I made myself walk for a half hour. I hated every single minute of it. I hated hearing myself breathe hard; I hated how much my back hurt. I hated that I got sweaty and that my stupid face got all red from exertion.

I’m just so angry with myself.

Why can’t I be one of those people who gets a rush from exercise? Why can’t I have a high metabolism?

Why do I love sweets so much?

As further punishment, I didn’t snack after dinner.

That should not be a punishment, by the way; since I’m a freaking adult that should be the norm. You eat dinner at 6ish and then you. Just. Stop. Eating.

Duh.

I’ve had a few people commiserate with me, telling me that it’s okay that I’m a fatty, I don’t smoke or drink, after all. So I should give myself a break because we all have to have our vices.

Yeah, but not really, right? Shouldn’t we all practice a little self-discipline? I mean, if I didn’t eat like a twelve year old left alone in the candy aisle of the local grocery store, I wouldn’t be in this predicament.

I want to be happy for people who find success in diet and exercise. I really do.

But I’m not that good a person, apparently.

Instead of rejoicing for them, I lament for me. I sit and feel sorry for my stupid self, wondering why I can’t do what they’re doing.

Then I berate myself, listing all the things I hate about myself.

It’s a vicious cycle.

I need to get off this merry-go-round because even though I like to spin, going round and round like this isn’t healthy, not physically and definitely not mentally.