I don't understand why my body, or brain, or whatever, is letting this fat chick take control. I should be be pleased today. I've done it! I've officially moved to the other side of my weight loss ticker.
I was happy, don't get me wrong. I got that wonderful, warm, cheerful feeling in my heart but it faded so quickly. Second after it was replaced by the insidious voice of that fat chick inside me. I thought I was destroying her but the whispers have began again. Looking in the mirror, I don't see twenty-six pounds gone. She whispers, "what's the point of weight loss if you can't see it at all?" Reminds me that I still look fat. She makes me look at the spots on my naked body that are disgusting and obviously not changed by weight loss.
Twenty-six pounds is a lot! That's the weight of three good-sized newborn babies. You would think I could see something. Heck, I think I should see something. But no. That bastard of a fat chick is still in control. Why won't she leave me be? I just want to look in the mirror once and think "ooh. I look good!" Is that too much to ask for? I mean, I didn't even really feel pretty on my wedding day. This sucks!
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