One Twenty Five

i feel a little pathetic writing this. and i suppose that’s why i’ve been putting it off for so long. as you know i’ve been on the road for nearly three months and have witnessed how much of the world lives - fighting to find food everyday. yet here i am. writing about how i can’t stop eating. see? pathetic really. embarrassing. so, so embarrassing. i don’t know what to do. because i want to write about it. but realize how poor/shallow/whatever of a person i may come across. 

but. oh the but. the reason i do write about it, is this. this is still my life. i am still me. from my past. with my hopes. dreams. and wishes. i still don’t want to be fat. i want to be healthy. and happy. by getting fat, i won’t be either. clothes sitting tighter isn’t a nice feeling. and i am more than aware of the severe poverty around me. and from that, have become more than aware of my obsessions with food and my weight. 

it’s sad really. i know. but for whatever reason it is what it is. so, before my weight actually balloons out of control, i need to nip it in the bud. 

because i can’t lie to myself anymore, i am gaining weight. slowly, but surely. i’ve felt it on my stomach, my thighs, and seen it in my face. i’ve also felt myself slip into my old ways. the lying. the excuses. the i’ll start tomorrow….

i’ll always start tomorrow. 

it’s just food liz, that’s it. 

but i’m still waiting for tomorrow. and tomorrow never comes. it’s so frustrating. promising yourself something each night, then come the morning, doing the exact opposite of what you want. so frustrating. 

i can also easily see compared to the people i’m currently traveling with, i eat way more. than all of them. boys and girls. that’s embarrassing. just stop. that sounds so simple, doesn’t it? there are so many pros to eating less, including giving the money I save to the local people. so many pros. just do it. 

i don’t know. i wish i had the answers. i wish i didn’t care. i wish so much i could just be normal. not obsessive. not always promising myself things. then failing. but i do care. call me what you want. but for whatever reason, from the world i’ve come from, this is me, and whether in toronto, cambodia, or on the moon, i don’t want to return to my old self. 

sad, but true. 

but as with most posts like this, i have a plan! a plan? (<— you) a plan! a simple, simple, plan too. ready? it’s called; Operation No Carbs After Noon. simple, right? yes. and it just makes so much sense. eat whatever i want for breakfast. carbs in all their glory. then come noon. i’m done. and. and i need to watch my portions… although, as south east asia’s portions are naturally small, this shouldn’t be too hard. 

third three hundredth time’s a charm. let’s do this. i’m in (again), are you?