Oh dear…

So, it turns out, I’ve gained about 50 pounds in the past year and a half.  Literally 50.  Like the size of a kindergartner.
The only glass-is-half-full factor about this is that at least it isn’t quite the fattest that I’ve ever been.  But give me 10 more pounds.

Pitifully, I don’t feel supremely motivated to correct this.  It was so much damn work to get there in the first place; it’s hard to imagine doing it all over again.

And yet, it was really nice fitting into size 8’s.  I wasn’t slim, but I also wasn’t a fat girl.
What I feel the most is shame that my David met me when I was that other person, and then I turned back into the regular fat version.  Feels a bit like I tricked him.

It was just so much easier to be self punishing when I was in the throes of a horrible relationship, hating him and hating myself.  And Happy Maggie is a Lazy Maggie.  Who likes cheese.


And hiss.

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