I was running really late last night, and didn’t manage to write a complete post.  I mentioned that it wasn’t the greatest week in terms of exercise, but I was surprised when I weighed myself today.

I was talking with my mom this weekend and she mentioned that she got a kick out of my mugshots.  Immediately, my brain kicked into  panic mode trying to figure out what she meant.  Turns out, she was referring to the pictures I’ve been uploading every week.  One to the front, and one to the side.  That got me to thinking about the fact that she wasn’t far off the mark, calling them “mugshots.”   When you’re severely overweight, the weight really is a prison.  You can’t wear the things you want to wear (although, thanks to stores like Torrid, there’s much more tasteful clothing than there used to be).  You can’t always go places, because you don’t fit in the car for the carpool.  You avoid being in photographs, because it’s just another reminder of how fat you are.  You tend to avoid active sports, because you’re so self-conscious about how much your body is going to jiggle.  You may even avoid hanging out with friends who are slender because they seem to constantly bring up the fact that they need to lose weight.  Believe me there’s a big difference between 5 or 10 pounds and 105 or 110 pounds.  I know it’s probably terrible of me, but sometimes I think it would be good if everyone in the world started out life massively overweight, just so there’d be more equality and understanding of how hard this really is.

Okay, I’m done venting, and I’m back on track with eating right and working out!