I've avoided the scale all summer because I knew I had gained weight. It was so obvious to me. But I never wanted to actually see the number... until today.
I weighed myself. I gained weight. And what makes me the most upset is that I gained 9 pounds since May, taking up to the number I said I'd NEVER let myself get to: 200.
I'm so upset with myself. It's been so fucking hard though. I'm living at my moms until the first weekend of August and so far this summer there hasn't been a single fruit or vegetable in the house, our water in nearly undrinkable so I don't drink enough water, she refuses to buy healthy foods while I'm home.
There's nothing I've been able to do about it because I have no money and no one would hire me around here so I've just been eating what she prepares. A slice of pizza one night, pasta the next night...
I know I'll lose those 9 pounds and hopefully even more as soon as I get back to my own apartment where I have money and the ability to buy my own groceries. But for these last few weeks I'm just going to sit here, hating myself.
I want to work out. I want to go run. But my town is so judgmental. Not ONE time have I been able to go jogging or even WALKING in this town without at LEAST one person laughing at me or yelling something rude from their car. And I know, I shouldn't let it ruin going out for me, but it does. It does because this is a small town and I know every single person here and so I know exactly who it is that makes fun of me each time it happens and it hurts.
Ugh. I can't do this.