I caught sight of myself in a mirror today and flinched. It was an unexpected, full length glance. I was neither sucking anything in nor standing up straight.
Clearly, sticking to the eat-well-and-exercise plan is too unpleasant for me to commit. It's not difficult or "hard", as we like to say here in the U.S. It's quite simple. However, it also feels exponentially unpleasant.
Which is the lesser of the evils? The answer changes several times daily as I vacillate between getting smacked in the eyes by that startling reflection of meals gone by, or living with the knowledge that I have to break up with my dear friends Chocolate and Mayonnaise. I cannot manage moderation, so it has to be a clean break with no contact, or I will not last.
So far, I have not lasted.
Sticking to the plan to reach my mind's belief of how I should look means living in a state of unhappy longing, and there is way too much of that in my world as it is without voluntarily adding more.
I have trouble with commitment in every area of life, and this is no different. Commitment always means giving up something that makes life less unpleasant in order to uphold an ideal that is precariously full of holes.
While I balk at the theory of ideals, I simultaneously drown in shame at my lack of success at upholding ideals...I want to refuse the ideal, not to fail at the upholding part.
Misery and frustration brought about by trying to be committed to something that makes me miserable and frustrated creates an exhausting concentric circle of futility. I usually shout it down with a brimming bowl of something delicious that will make me sleep through the night.
I have to learn to dress well as a big woman.