I don’t know what has halted my progress for so long, but
whatever it is still threatens me now. I have examined my determination and
found it lacking, I want to succeed but have constantly procrastinated. Success
isn’t like the movies, it isn't some inspirational speech followed by a minute
of montage sequence.
Success for me will mean pain, sweat, vigilance and facing
my problems head on. Success will be a compromise
between my mind and stomach, a fragile agreement of identifying treats allowed
and poison. I know what I need to do. It can’t be more clear. I don’t need a
dietitian or personal trainer.
I need to eat simply. Avoid the poison. I need to exercise. Harder
than I ever have before. I need to kill my demons and fall in love with slaying
them on a daily basis… If I’m not prepared to do this I should give up. Damn I
know I want to sometimes. But hope is the little voice telling me off when I
cheat, It’s the guilt I feel when I have something bad, even if there isn't
anyone to see me… That little voice of hope may save my life.
I really do want to beat this and when I do I have given a
lot of thought into what I’m going to do, I have decided I’m not going to
destroy the Eli inside me that suffered through this horrible life altering
nightmare, I’m going to use the good that I can draw from it. I hope I always
have the sensitivity being larger than life has instilled in me. I hope I take
every little tiny good thing that I has been instilled over the years and
incorporate it into the new me.
So I’m going to get there. Somehow. Someday. I’m going to do
it for all the people that are going to need me in their lives one day… and I’m
going to do it for me. I want to see my nephew grow up. I want to wear a
beautiful wedding dress… just kidding, But I want to do amazing things and I can’t
do them trapped in my fat suit.
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