Feeling very Carrie Bradshaw sitting tapping away on my keyboard, pausing occasionally to think and twisting my coffee cup round and round. I still can’t do that thing where I put my feet on the chair I’m sitting on though, and I’m not sitting around in my underwear.
Because I am sill fat.

I would love to report that I have found the ‘thing’ that works, the ‘thing’ that’s going to end it all for me and move me forward. But I haven’t, because there isn’t a thing, and honestly I’m just at a loss as to what the hell approach I’m going to take to sort myself out.

The only thing that has shifted is that what I’m seeking a solution to now isn’t my weight problem. My weight is completely irrelevant, it is merely a symptom of what’s going on in my brain and a convenient reminder that whatever I’m doing isn’t working.

There can be no kidding ones self or delusions about being ‘cured’ in the head or being in recovery from an eating disorder. Clearly I’m not and my waist band is testament to that fact.

At this point I am beyond bored. I’m bored of diets, healthy eating plans, restricting, cutting out various food groups or foods, going to over eaters anonymous meetings, reading, thinking, talking, counting calories, writing down everything I eat, meditating, praying, juice fasting, hypnotic gastric bands, weight loss apps, things that count steps and calories and stairs and water intake. I’ve done it all, and some of it has been useful and great, but I’m just fed up of it. Bored. But mostly I’m bored of myself and my brain on this subject, I’m frustrated and angry too, but mostly I’m just bored.

Someone very wise once told me that being bored with yourself the way you are was the only way to change… 

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