This was me in the summer:
|Babafluff posed, if only to show off her Zippy mouth|
Then Angel's mum passed away and I mourned for her and for Angel.
Then I had my operation and spent 8 weeks learning how to move about again while Hubby fed me and I got back into bad habits.
Then Mia and Tom died and Beautiful B's life fell apart and I took on the burden of sorting the funeral for her to try and take as much strain as I could - and we ate fast food almost every night for 4 weeks as a result.
Basically I got lazy, felt terribly sorry for what my family was going through and returned to food as a comfort blanket. After 12 months at fat fighters I had achieved partial success; I still battled a life long comfort and was losing the battle.
This is the result of my stupidity:
I have to be smaller than the first photo by October. At the rate I am losing I am not going to get there. So I am back at the gym. Every other day come hell or high water, rain or shine, well or ill.
Fat fighters for me will have to become like AA meetings to an alcoholic - though I know the two really don't compare. If I stop going to the meetings, I slip back to my old ways; the one I have lived with and nurtured for 37 years. Now is time to stop the cycle; if that means having someone hold my hand once a week at a meeting for the next few years then so be it.
You not only cannot change the habit of a lifetime overnight; turns out you sometimes cannot change it in a year.