The joys of being a salt lick

I hate looking at myself in the mirror.

I hate wearing a size 13/14 and size large.

I hate watching what I eat. 

I hate eating less. 

I hate drinking less.

I hate working out and getting sweaty.

I hate that my dog thinks of me as a salt lick when I'm done working out.

I want to eat an entire box of girlscout cookies (yes, fat kids like me hide them from themselves so they have them year round).

But I love feeling the burn after I work out. 

I love knowing that I've lost ~7 pounds in the last two weeks. 

I love seeing that a little motivation goes a long way. 

I love that I'm getting healthier. 

I love that my asthma is getting better as I work out longer.

I love that I'm finally not giving into excuses. 

And no, certain family member who works for Weight Watchers... I don't want to pay $20 a month to have some strangers judge me. 

No, I'm not doing it to get super skinny. 

I'm not going to be the 107 pound 19 year old girl I was before who thought she was fat.

I'm 23 now, I actually eat and I weigh 180.4 pounds. I was approximately 187.6  two weeks ago. 

Do I want to get back to 107 pounds? Hell yes. 

Do I think I will? Nope. At least not for a long time. 

My goal weight is around 140 for now. And I believe that is even considered obese for my height. However I have a lot more muscle than most girls my size. Someone else I know who is both taller than me and bigger around the stomach than me weighs 171 pounds. Yet she has just about zero muscle. And muscle is more dense than fat, which is why I don't care if I do gain muscle and don't get back to the weight I was before. 

Just a life update!

So it's been a while. Far, far too long, but I've been kinda busy and I've been having ideas for posts running through my head and I just haven't gotten around to typing them up or posting them! Ah! I'll get better at this! I swear! So it's been like 2-3 months being off medication and I feel like I'm doing fantastic. I don't like feeling numb, like every medication I tried caused. Even if it was just slight numbness. I have my good days and I have bad days. In the last two weeks I've cried twice. Once was because of watching Safe Haven. That totally doesn't count though. The other time was just because I felt as though I had no friends and no one there to talk to me. And then it caused this whole morning time cleaning and crying ordeal. Not fun. Only lasted a couple of minutes though, thankfully! Not a panic attack. I haven't been sleeping super well, but I'm trying to get back on a normal schedule. The medicines I was on were so sedating that I'd literally be able to sleep 14 hours and still be exhausted and need caffeine. I've been using less to get me to sleep at night though, and I've been working out, so I think that's been helping (I'll do a post more about that later). I haven't had a panic attack since I went to Mexico, so about a month ago. And that was because my sister wouldn't send me a picture of my dog. I love my dog and knowing that I'm so far away from her stresses me out. Plus I was recently on a new birth control. By the way, Nuvaring sucks. So much. I couldn't get it in there right, no matter how I tried. I could constantly feel it and it felt like I had a tampon in for the two weeks I had it in. It never fully expanded. But I didn't want to worry about taking the pill in Mexico and my lameass doctor wouldn't recommend an IUD for me, so I tried it. Bad choice. I'll contact Planned Parenthood about it and try to get one there. But things have been going pretty dang well! And my prescribing nurse practitioner seemed to think that I wouldn't do well without medicine. Bam. I'm doing fine, beyatch. But I will be discussing getting my dog beast certified as an Emotional Support Animal. The website says examples of conditions needing an ESA are: Depression, anxiety, panic attacks, post traumatic stress disorder and personality disorder. Oh hey, I have anxiety, panic attacks, ptsd and depression! She thinks it's bipolar, but I think it's depression. But yeah. So I'd need to have her prescribe my dog to me, basically, and then write a letter saying I need her and then I think go through the National Service Animal Registry. But I'm still very much alive, even though no one reads this! Haha. Don't care. But I'm going to type up more blog posts now and just save them for later this week!! Ha!