I Don't Even Know Anymore...

Sorry for the week-long hiatus, ya'll. Last week's number was not pretty, and while I really didn't want to own up to it, mostly I just didn't know what to say. But I've never been anything but forthcoming and honest on this blog and I didn't want to start picking and choosing what I share. That's not fair. So... I'm fessing up, and then picking up where I left off with this week's weigh in.

First, last week's dreadful weigh-in:
Starting Weight: 290.3
Last Weigh-in: 283.5
This Week: 286.9
Net Loss: +3.4
Loss-to-Date: -3.4

And this week's less dreadful weigh-in:
Starting Weight: 290.3
Last Weigh-in: 286.9
This Week: 284.9
Net Loss: -2.0
Loss-to-Date: -5.4

I just don't even know. The only thing I can say about last week's massive gain is a) I don't know how it's possible that I ate over TWENTY-FIVE THOUSAND calories more than I burned, and b) it's punishment for the loss over the course of my wedding/honeymoon. 

I'm honestly stumped here. We weren't perfect that week but we cooked more and made much better choices than you'd expect someone to have made if they told you they gained three pounds. 

I'm glad to see the number going back in the right direction this week but I was kinda hoping it was a fluke and that this week's number would've been lower than my weigh-in two weeks ago. I guess I was hoping I could just pretend last week didn't exist.

To say that I'm bummed is the understatement of the century. It's really frustrating and if I'm being brutally honest, it makes me want to give up. This shouldn't be happening. It'd be one thing if it was just my food intake and exercise (or lack thereof), but I'm on medication that is supposed to be making this easier!!! I am swallowing 1500mgs of a fucking chemical every single day that is supposed to make my body stop fighting itself and make it let go of this fat and it's not working. My dosage has already been increased once... does this mean I need to increase it again? And what does it mean for me if it just doesn't work? 

I'm so tired. I'm tired of being fat, I'm tired of feeling unhealthy, I'm tired of being on the precipice of a million weight-related health problems, I'm tired of making good choices and having it be for naught. I don't know if I should be mad at myself, or mad at my biology, or mad at my scale, or what. It's just really, really frustrating. 

And the worst part is that I want to throw in the towel sometimes but I know I can't. Aside from the whole "winners never quit" philosophy, and all the mushy, feel-goody reasons I should stick with it... I can't quit. I've paid more attention to how bad food makes me feel and I don't like it. I still falter and eat it sometimes, and then I regret it. If I gave up, I'd just be miserable all the time. But that knowledge apparently isn't helping me because even though over the past couple weeks even Derek has noticed that I've been taking smaller portions, picking better food to eat, and knowing when to say "I'm full, I'm not eating anymore" and push my plate away, I'm still not seeing the results I'd hoped for. Metformin was supposed to be my little miracle. I do the hard work of making the right food choices and trying to move more, and my little orange pills were supposed to make me lose more weight than I would without it. And if that's the case, what the hell would last week have looked like WITHOUT Metformin? Good lord, I don't even want to think about it. 

I know I just have to get back on the horse. I don't really have a choice. At this point it's not even about being a go-getter and having a positive attitude... I honestly don't have a choice. I still have to make good food choices even though I just wanna fuckin curl up on the couch with a bowl of chocolate chip cookies and stay there forever. It's starting to not feel like this awesome, life-affirming, life-changing journey I'm on and more like punishment or a chore. Like a life sentence to never be able to eat without careful calculation ever again. 

I know that I won't get anywhere if I don't try to see the bright side, but I'm struggling to see even a sliver of sunshine here. I guess I could say losing two pounds this week is a bright side, but not to me when I consider that I'm still over a pound up from where I was two weeks ago. 

Argh. PCOS can go eff itself. And so can the 3.4 pounds I gained last week. 

Back on the horse I go, I guess. :-\