I ask myself a lot of questions throughout the course of a day; but, the one I ask most often is, “What the hell is wrong with you?” I am almost always referring to something I have eaten or reacting to seeing myself in the mirror.
I know that I am responsible for every pound on this body. There is nothing to blame for how I look and feel except for eating too much and not exercising. I know I’m supposed to be all body confident and positive, that I’m supposed to love myself just as I am…but I can’t right now. That’s not how my brain is working right now.
Right now I am mad at myself for letting the weight rush back. It didn’t creep, it fucking rushed. I’m pretty sure my superpower is gaining weight. So I ask myself over and over, “What the hell is wrong with you?” I never have the answer. Never.