Yes, yes, I’m alive. 🙂

The past four months have been the most hectic I’ve had in a long time. I learned something, though–I can’t keep expecting my life to slow down enough for me to not have to tryDiscipline is definitely not one of my strong points, and I’ve taken the ready excuse of “when this is over”. What if it never ends? What if new things, more responsibilities just keep popping up? Am I going to delay working on my health for the rest of my life? Will there even be a “rest of my life” at that rate?

I have to own this…have to own me. Weight loss has never been something I’ve really wanted to do. I can see that it needs to be done, but outside of wardrobe-related moments of frustration, being fat works for me. Of course, I’m logical enough to know of the associated health risks, but I’m not sure I care…enough, that is.

Frankly, I’m terrified of what taking this step could mean. I’ve never been small. Smaller than I am now? Sure, but not small enough to be considered anywhere near average size. I can’t separate improving my health from losing weight, and that makes this change just about the scariest thing I’ve come across in my life. I’ll be different. What if I don’t recognise this new person? What if I don’t like her? Then again, maybe I’ll still be me…just smaller. I just…don’t know.

I guess it’s way past time to grow up and face my fears, to own who I am…who I’ve made myself. Somehow, I almost wish working out were going to be the hardest part of this…I could definitely live with that. This changing stuff, man. So hard. So, so hard.

But, it’s time to fight, even though I’ll have to learn how…one breath at a time.