Okay, I did it.
I got out the dusty set of Weight Watcher’s scales from the dark and gloomy back waters of my bathroom cupboard and did the deed. I stood on them.
I must say, this took a lot of very serious mental preparation, as I was completely aware that the sight of the numbers could hit the black dog button in my at times very fragile psyche. To be honest, I was reasonably prepared for what they would tell me. After all, I’ve been this size before, and probably any size between twelve and eighteen at various times of my life, and I’m quite aware of the corresponding weight that goes with this amount of excess packaging. So to avoid that sense of ‘Oh my god!’, ‘Oh, I’m so fat!’, ‘How could I let myself do this?’ and ‘I will never be able to walk out in public again’, I played a little trick. I overestimated what I thought I would see on that glass appliance with its mysterious little window of numbers. In so doing so, I was almost pleasantly surprised! I have to say almost, because to be honest, the numbers are really a lot higher than they should be for my health and happiness.
So I know where to start, but now, where to go? Thankfully I haven’t waited a couple more months and let things get totally over the top. I have to set a goal, nothing unachievable. I should try and bring my weight down about half a kilo – a kilogram a week. I have an event to look forward to in three months, my graduation and then my 40th birthday a couple of months after. I know it would be nice to feel better in my clothes, wearing undies that don’t cut me in half, and feeling confident as I walk on that dreaded stage to accept my degree. It would be also great to choose something nice to wear for my 40th and to not be worrying about what I look like too much. I’d also like to avoid having a sore back all the time, as that is pure misery!