It's Just That I'm Terrified (Whole45, Day 45)

It's the final day, and I'm fighting the deep-rooted pessimism as best I can.

I don't feel any lighter, I don't feel smaller, I have a blemish on my chin that is both painful and ugly-looking, I really need to wash my hair and in general I just look like I fell out of the ugly tree (and hit every branch on the way down) rather than chipper and confident.

I know I shouldn't be so focused on the weight and size loss, but more on my general health. I know this. But I am.

Some things I am feeling:

• A little bit of soreness in my legs and butt from all the walking/ jogging
• plus a lot of soreness in my feet; I only have a few pairs of decent socks and when I wear the "other" ones my poor feet get destroyed
• Same anxiety / moodiness from issues experienced over the last couple of weeks (not really related to the food or fitness plan, but I'm sure it has the potential to derail results since ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING CAN DERAIL RESULTS.
• Relieved that at least my nails are looking better. (But if I'm honest, this is a fuckload of effort to improve my fingernails, and not lose the massive amount of weight I need to shed.)
• Glad that I have so many projects to focus on, in case tomorrow I'm mired in depression and apathy. Between Comedy of Errors, the Bernstein concert, The Tempest and (soon) Spelling Bee, at the very least I will have some fun distractions from all this noise.
• Happy I have tonight and tomorrow night off from rehearsal. Tonight I'll be getting some errands and chores done, and tomorrow's Wine Wednesday with Jen. I'm looking forward to having some treats, ...but to be honest if I thought this damn plan was working I'd give them up forever, if it meant I could see significant results.

I feel like at this point I'd do or give up almost anything. I'm sure I'm not the first person to feel this way. I'm just tired (exhausted) of hating the way I look. It's not healthy. It's completely backwards (you have to be nice to yourself in order to be healthy...that's like...health 101). And I hate feeling like no matter what choices I make, I'm still not in control of my appearance (and that, no matter how many sacrifices or "good" choices I make, I still look like someone who wouldn't know a healthy choice if it bit her on the ass and held on).

AAAAAUUUUUUUUGHHHHHH ok ok ok ok ok I'm done venting. No more negative Nancy-ing. I promise myself, no matter what my results are tomorrow, I won't write paragraphs of self-pitying malarkey (although I reserve the right to cry quietly in my room with a glass of whiskey and a cat and the tv turned on really loud). If the results are crap, they'll be written clinically and matter of factly. And if they're positive, hey, fantastic, there will probably be some joyous swear words thrown in.

Deep breaths. We can do this. We're ok. *Hugs self* We're ok.