Update on the scale nonsense: I did actually find a scale here where we are on vacation, at the fitness center. It’s one of those super official medical scales, with the slide weights. I tend to trust those more than any other kind of scale. So I stepped up on it yesterday, with my clothes on (I was in the middle of this gym with about a dozen other people in it!) but with no shoes.  I kept jiggling with it and it showed what looked like a few pound weight gain. OK, well, whatever. Then I realized it was ten pounds LOWER than I thought. Which meant I’d lost six lbs since coming on vacation, and 12 lbs total since beginning this blog.

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh, cry, have my head examined, or… ?

For some reason I was not elated. I got scared. It felt like too much. Suddenly I felt weak and lightheaded. I went back to the room and reported to my husband. He was delighted for me. Then I got pissed off (internally). I felt like, MAN, no weight loss is too great, and no diet is too severe for this guy. I think he’s a closet anorexic. But I spent the rest of the evening feeling confused, and had a little bit more at dinner, including a couple of bites of fried calamari.

This morning we went to this amazing breakfast place that specializes in these pancakes smothered in this very intense macadamia nut sauce. It is truly an ecstatic experience. We ordered a short stack. My mom and my younger daughter tried them but nobody else (INCLUDING ME) had any. I had a brief moment of sadness and I had to remind myself about 20 times during that hour that I was NOT going to partake. I had a really good omelette and it was satisfying enough.

Later today we were at the mall and it has this weird scale where you put in your quarter to get your “real true weight!” and a fortune. I WAS SO STUPID TO FALL FOR THIS but I did. I stepped up, and put in a quarter. And guess what it showed?! My all-time high weight!  Or, 13 lbs MORE than the fitness-room scale from yesterday.

I immediately started tripping out. I started doubting that I’d really read what I thought I read yesterday. I was like, nooooo, I have gained weight, a LOT of weight. I started seeing reflections of myself in store windows, and I looked freaking enormous. I really started believing that I had gained weight.

And so, you ask, what difference does it make? How is it that my psyche is so ruled by this stupid number? Because… because… if I really DO weigh what that mall scale says, (my “real true weight!”) after all of this hard work and changing my eating habits, then it makes me feel hopeless. Like none of it was worth it. And this is the point where a huge percentage of dieters throw in the towel and say, FORGET THIS SHIT.

I have to bring back the hypodermic needle/amputee/blindness images, because I have to be motivated by health issues, not be the damn scale or whatever the hell else. That’s probably not the healthiest thing either.

Soon, I want to review this very good book I’ve been reading recently. Maybe tomorrow. Meanwhile, readers, come back. Stay with me. I need your company!

OH and PS on the Biggest Loser: I don’t have a lot to say because due to being in a different time zone, I ended up missing the first hour of the show. I got emotional about the orange team going home. I wish they could have split teams. That David guy is SO into his “I don’t care-ness” and there is no way he is going to succeed. He just isn’t into it. He isn’t ready. It’s too scary for him. Believe me, I have been there, a hundred times.  Many people are disgusted with him and I guess I agree but it’s also sad because it’s where this total disgust/abhorrence of fat people comes from. I resist that, even though I often feel it myself. People in that situation are beating up on themselves enough, are lost and afraid enough without having the whole world pile on as well. So. Mixed feelings on this one. YAY for all the motivated people who are kicking ass, but so many of us have been in that other place.