Weight Watchers - Month 5 (It's just not pretty)

I had a tough decision to make this week.  I had purposely missed the last 3 weeks of weigh-ins because I wasn't going to like seeing the number on their scale written in my little WW book.  Each Thursday, I told myself I would take a one week pass and then get back on the ball for the following week. And no matter what, I would go back one week later and own up to it.   After yet another week passed (and another, and another), I realized that I was now paying Weight Watchers their monthly fee and not even having them tell me officially how bad it was.  I couldn't keep going on like this anymore and made the unthinkable decision to cancel my subscription.

I've come to the realization that my mood for how happy or down I will be each day is being dictated by the number that flashes on the scale.  I have a love-hate relationship with myself and more times than not this past month, I've been seriously depressed by the numbers I am seeing.  I guess I just don't want it bad enough.  I seem to be sabotaging all my good efforts and the phenomenal amount (not to mention the intensity) of the exercise I am doing. 

Strangely enough, all within 48 hours, I had 4 people from very different parts of my life (a childhood friend, a preschool mom, one of the girls, and a relative) all comment on how I don't eat enough protein and need to cut back on the amount of carbs I pack in on any given day.  I guess I don't need to be hit over the head with a brick to know they are right and I do a very poor job of making sure I get enough protein in my diet.

No amount of tracking or counting calories is going to make the least bit of difference if I am not getting the right combination of food in.

So there you have it.  I am not sure where I will go from here.  I know, I know, the logical thing would be to consult with a nutritionist.  But I can't face failing another attempt at trying to get to a healthy weight.  This is always going to be a life long struggle and I am so discouraged right now. 

Here is my sweet ending to this downer of a blog entry -- this past Thursday morning as we were walking to the car, Ian asked if we are going to Weight Watchers.  I said, "No Ian, we are not.  I've given up and need to get my head on straight about this whole thing."   Ian replied with, "Well, you look thin to me."   Aw, of course, I had to give him the biggest hug ever.  Not because he said the most perfect thing he could have at that moment, but because I needed to feel better and his hug was the medicine right then.