I'm ....well....

{I debated on if I should post this, and I debated where I would post it. I went back and forth. A struggle is a struggle and I guess, my idea that getting this out there will force me to not only stay on track, but maybe, just maybe go see someone if this doesn't get better. (That someone being a doctor, not for some surgery, I am not that bad, but maybe I'm sick.)}

I'm fat. I'm not saying 'overweight' because I don't *feel* overweight. I feel fat. At this day, at this time, I am. I feel it. I see it. I'm not really sure what is going on. I wasn't eating crazy. I was still working out and running, but I've gained. This upsets me for lots of reasons. It's depressing and yet, the other day I thought of it like this....

I've been battling this for years. I win for a year or so, then I lose horribly. Here's the thing though, it's only been the past 12 years.

Growing up I certainly didn't think I was skinny. As the tallest girl, I was generally bigger than everyone else by default. My best friend was like a foot shorter than me starting in 3rd grade. So I always thought I was huge. I wasn't though. I wasn't even "plump" in any way. I was normal. A good size for a girl my height - just not anorexic thin.

I was like this until my son was born - and yes, I still believed I was huge. Oddly enough I wasn't...until I gave into that and actually became what I perceived.

So I am thinking of it this way. I have been in shape and 'not fat' more years than the other. There is no reason to give up. My body will just have to cave on these battles.