My Scale Has Borderline Personality Disorder
I’ve been doing a lot of Deep Thinking, which is not easy for someone like me. Even if gnomes hadn’t absconded with my brain and eaten it slathered with ice cream and sprinkles, I think the three children and chronic migraines would have done a number on it. (I strongly feel that gnomes have a sweet tooth. That is neither here nor there.)
I think that I have part of A Plan worked out, and I’ll tell you a bit more about it tomorrow.
I haven’t managed to accomplish much this week beyond “drink my weight in coffee,” which, if you knew what I weighed, you’d be a step ahead of me, because I don’t like to weigh myself.
I know you’re supposed to watch “trends over time,” and “not get bogged down in the details,” but that’s a steaming pile of bullshit. I’ve gained (and lost) 60-90 pounds with each of my three babies and I’m telling you, Pranksters, I get bogged down in the details every. fucking. time.
I’ll start on a diet, right? And because I’ve got a Glandular Condition (read: hypothyroidism) and, like I’ve previously stated, I’ve gained and lost a metric fuckton of weight with each of my babies, I know how to do it properly. If you want to lose weight, it’s simple: eat less crap, move your ass.
So I get all EYE OF THE TIGER for Week One. I run to the grocery store and stock up on egg whites and skim milk and edamame and yogurt I feel all smugly superior as I DELIBERATELY don’t buy any Uncrustables or Captain Crunch. I may even sneer in their general direction.
Because I WIN.
Instead of lazily refreshing The Twitter and my email all day while popping Junior Mints into my mouth, I get up off my ass and I vacuum. Snappily. I pump my three pound weights and I’m all, LOOKIT ME GETTING INTO SHAPE. I’M A WINNER, BITCHES. I eat eggs and drink protein shakes and I scoff at junk food. I’m SO OVER EATING JUNK FOOD BECAUSE I WIN AT LIFE. Painstakingly I document every single calorie I put into my body.
I spend hours thinking about how many calories toothpaste has. I buy new running shoes and a new sports bra because, well, I’M A FITNESS GURU NOW, Y’ALL. In the few moments I spend online, I research the best vitamins and herbal supplements for weight loss.
I practically skip to my first weigh-in, flexing my muscles, convinced that I’ve lost twenty pounds. My clothes fit better. I look Dead Sexy. I’m going to be in a bikini in NO TIME.
I’M A WINNER.
Smugly, I look at my reflection in the mirror as I wait for the scale to calculate how awesome I am. I wonder if I can, perhaps, develop a scale to measure awesomeness. I bet my Pranksters can help with that. They’re awesome. Like me. WHO IS AWESOME.
Blink, blink, blink goes the number.
It stops blinking.
I’ve gained three pounds.
Um.
What?
Huh?
I’M A FITNESS GURU. I EVEN BOUGHT RUNNING SHOES AND EVERYTHING. HOW COULD I HAVE GAINED WEIGHT WHEN I AM A FITNESS MASTER OF THE UNIVERSE?
It’s clear that my scale is broken. That’s the only explanation.
I test that theory by recruiting one of my children, the nine-year old, who can vividly recall what the scale had said twenty minutes before, and twenty minutes before that. He’d been weighing himself all week. Ah-HA! My inner Sherlock Holmes cried. It was clear to me that he had broken it.
Blink, blink, blink, the scale flashed.
60.8 pounds.
Exactly the same, he said happily, scampering off, leaving my crushed ego in his wake.
Well, I reasoned, standing there in the bathroom, my self-esteem plummeting, I was probably getting my period. I hadn’t looked at a calendar or anything, but it was probably just period bloat. Not that I normally turned into the Stay Puft Marshmallow man when I was surfing the crimson wave, but still. THIS TIME IT HAD TO BE.
Except no. When I thought about it, I realized that it was the middle of my cycle.
Okay, so maybe I had to poo. That had to be it! But just as I was comforting myself, I remembered that I’d had Chipotle hot sauce the day before and the lining of my colon had been stripped bare.
Well, uh, HM, I stood in the bathroom thinking: I probably should try and pee. Maybe it was all that Diet Coke I’d had to drink the day before. I pushed on my bladder with both hands, willing my kidneys to work harder, faster. After a couple minutes, I felt like I’d gotten rid of every ounce of extra liquid in my body. Hell, I probably looked all shriveled up and shit, like a particularly large and pasty raisin.
I got back on the scale. That had to be at LEAST six pounds…right?
Blink, blink, blink.
[exactly the same number]
How the hell was that even possible?
Didn’t the scale KNOW that I was on a DIET?
I flounce off to the computer to order a diet book. Because NOTHING scares a scale into moving the proper direction (down) more than a diet book. Also: I’m a FITNESS GURU. I’m going to MAKE IT. I’m a WINNER. My resolve is strengthened!
Week Two:
I drink lemon water the WHOLE NIGHT BEFORE my weigh-in to make sure that I’m not retaining any water. I’m so dehydrated by the time I wake up that my tongue is actually stuck to the roof of my mouth. I’d normally guzzle some coffee to unstick it, but I’m ready to get on the scale. I’M A WINNER.
I’ve lost two pounds! YAY!
Wait. That’s still a pound heavier than when I’d started this stupid diet. Um. That’s not so Winning-y.
I start trolling for diet advice and have found a mysterious quote that pops up over and over: “Remember, muscle weighs more than fat!!!” I spend an inordinate time wondering how the hell that makes any sense. Realize they are talking about density not weight.
I wonder how much hair weighs. Because if it weighs a lot, I may go all GI Jane.
I can do this. Deep breath. I WIN AT LIFE. Sorta.
When I’m not feeling a little deflated.
Week Three:
Have lost another half a pound. Still half a pound up from starting weight. I’d left the diet book in the bathroom where the scale can see it. Figured I could try bullying the scale into submission. I was quite sad to note that the diet book was proven ineffective at scaring scale into telling me that I’ve lost sixty pounds in a week.
I have now thrown diet book away for being bullshit.
Also: have looked into removing the heaviest of my unuseful organs. Have decided that the heaviest of my unuseful organs is probably my brain. That kid from Jerry Maguire said it weighed like 8 pounds or something.
That’s a LOT of pounds.
Week Four:
Have gained four pounds. Status: actively homicidal.
Also: looking into profit margins of a tapeworm farm. Healthier (and probably includes less jail time) than a killing spree. Possible Killing Spree Targets include everyone with discernible waistlines and perky people on The Twitter who only tweet about “loving (insert trendy form of exercise) OMG!” and “how much weight they lost this week LOL OMG BBQ STFU ASSHOLES FU SHOOT ME.” Also: the producers of The Biggest Loser for making anyone on a diet feel like shit for not losing weight more quickly (AND MORE SAFELY, YOU FUCKING FOOLS).
Weeks Five Through Elevnty-Niner-Infinity Times Three:
Diets are bullshit. My scale is an asshole. Jillian Michaels can kiss my dimply white ass.
I go back to refreshing The Twitter and my email thirty-five-niner times a day but continue eating less crap and moving my ass more. I’m just not so fucking cheerful about it. I’m nobody’s ray of fucking diet sunshine. Instead, I concern myself with trying to decide which version of Hair of the Dog is better: Nazareth or Guns and Roses.
Then, because the scale has Borderline Personality Disorder, it’s all, Aunt Becky! COME BACK, I LOVE YOU, GO AWAY, and the numbers finally go down without the aid of a tapeworm.
Which is fortunate. Parasites are so 1880’s.
Also: This picture had nothing to do with anything except that I found it when I was “organizing my desktop” (read: deleting old cactus videos).
OMG! I am laughing out LOUD! Not AT you, but totally WITH you because who hasn’t been there? Thank you so much for posting this!
I sooo hear you sista!
How much does hypothyroidism suck the big one???
Up, down, up, down…..more times than a hookers….ok leaving that alone.
I hate my scale and threw it out.
Logically I know what to do to be a Winner….so if/when I decide to utilize this precious knowledge I am not buying a new scale.
I sympathize, empathize, Giant Thighs, and everything else with this.
Also? I need whatever it is that’s a picture of. Not the digestives, but the other thing.
Well, Aunt Becky, I don’t have hypothyroidism and that’s still how it goes for me. I try to only step on the scale once in a while, because it’s the mother fucking details that kill you, or make you homicidal… one of those. I’ve always found that ELD diet works wonders if I can stick to it. That’s “eat less, dumbass”, in case you didn’t know. Problem is, I have a serious weakness for sweets, like cake and shit. I just crumble to pieces. If I can keep away from it, I’m all set. And for some reason, when I start to actually lose weight, it’s so much easier to keep losing weight. But getting the numbers to budge (in the right direction) in the first place? Killer. Argh. It sucks right now, since I only need to lose about 10 lbs. Because, well, it’s only 10 lbs so I’m not motivated enough to really get going, but then 10 lbs is like 8% of my weight, so an extra 10 lbs is really not attractive. I am not one of those people who just gets thicker all over, I have this loose flab busting out just in my gut… thanks Crotch Parasites!
So… see? We’re probably all a bit neurotic when it comes to weight issues. Fun!
ELD diet? I love it!
Oh Aunt Becky, I just decided that I am all EYE OF THE MOTHER FUCKING TIGER and have been logging every single calorie (except those glasses of wine last night…..if I don’t write it down, it didn’t happen right?) and am now a fitness GURU- just like you 🙂 My weight today is the same as yesterday (yay) but still way more than a year ago. I have given my scale a stern lecture time and time again, but alas, it does whatever it wants.
I never have to write another Weight-Watcher Wednesday post, all I have to do is link to this because you’ve basically outlined what trying to lose weight is like for me.
On the weeks I’d kind of slacked off I’d go in and would have lost a pound. So I’d get all super effin’ motivated and track my ass off and walk every damn day and resist the urge to indulge in the office Timbits and then go in and would have GAINED three pounds.
Also I want to punch every person who tells me that muscle weighs more that fat. Punch them in their stupid face.
Also if one more person asks me if I’ve tried Zumba I will go Zumba on their ass.
Also, although I loves me some Guns N Roses (I actually used to draw little caricatures of Slash all over my high school binders) I’m gonna have to say ‘Nazareth FTW’.
It’s a conspiracy. I think our scales are in on it together. EVERYDAY I run on that GD treadmill. No reese’s peanut butter cups, NO WINE, no chips and nacho cheese, no cookies that I made from effin scratch for everyone else apparently, no eating till I’m full, just till I’m not hungry, and NO WEIGHT LOSS. *sigh*
Becky, I don’t know what kind of diet you are following but you know maybe you aren’t eating enough calories and your body is hoarding it’s fat(yes, it happens). Try counting your calories, you can do it for free online at loseit.com or livestrong.com
It’s super easy! Before we had to but my mom in the hospital, I had lost 5lbs, but with her being here and me stuck eating from vending machines or the crap-a-teria has just killed dieting. But I will be starting back as soon as she comes home. Hang in there!
That was AWESOME. Thank you…best thing I’ve read all day.
Aunt Becky, I got so fucking fat that my insurance company PAID for me to get a lap band put in my guts. It took four months of endless testing: a gallon of blood, a stress test, an endoscopy, this weird oxygen sealed clear plastic booth with a scuba mouth piece I had to breath and not breath into, 4 weeks on a liquid diet before the surgery and 3 weeks after, 3 personality disorder tests, X-rays, ultrasounds, and a CAT scan of my guts with some kind of injection that made me all sweaty and want to pee my pants while they were doing it. I did all that, and then I didn’t lose anything for SIX MONTHS. Because you don’t just fill that little fucker up, you go in once a month and they put in 1 or 2 tiny drops of saline, and then you wait and see what happens. Eventually I hit the magic inflation and suddenly could no longer eat bread, rice, tortillas…anything that could gob up. And I discovered what they were talking about when they talked about Productive Burping…band puke. Fill that little bit of stomach up too much, and you WILL hork it up.
So now, through the miracle of surgery turning me into someone with an eating disorder (put a plate of food in front of me and watch me back away slowly) I have lost enough weight to no longer be ‘morbidly obese’, but just chunky. It was fast though, and my body didn’t like it. My butt hurts, because its bonier, and I sit on it a lot, I’m always cold, and I’ve lost a lot of muscle with the fat. My body aches, I have to take vitamin supplements and I can’t stand those protein drinks I had to drink for 7 weeks, so I have to take more vitamins. I’m still 40 pounds over my goal weight. I crave sweets terribly (my body thinks it’s starving to death, I can’t blame it, poor thing) and I can’t have ice cream or anything like that in the house because I WILL EAT IT ALL. They call that ‘defeating the band’. I worry that I did the wrong thing, but diabetes and heart disease were creeping up on me fast, and I was not able to lose the weight on my own. It turns out, even people with surgical interventions will sometimes manage to put weight back on again.
Of course I’m also tapering off of antidepressants and anti-anxiety drugs (benzodiazepines are a gift from SATAN) so everytime anything happens I think I’m having benzo withdrawal symptoms, some of which are utterly terrifying, so that makes me want to eat, because eating was always my comfort measure. I got the band loosened, because when I began my taper I was so anxious I could barely even get water down, and now its come back and bitten me in the ass, because I can eat again. Now the taper is nearing it’s end (the damn benzo takes 6 months to get off of) and I’m not as anxious since no withdrawal symptoms have happened, and I STARTED EATING AGAIN. And it is completely obvious to me that I would probably gain the 80 pounds I’ve lost back in about a month if I got the band removed, because I’ve managed to gain back 7 pounds in A WEEK. With the band still mostly filled!
You can imagine how my poor therapist cringes when I come through the door. He’s completely appalled that I am afraid of food. Oh sure, I eat it in order to live, but I don’t enjoy it, or savor it, or look forward to it. Even now, with the band loosened, and able to eat pretty much anything, I still don’t enjoy it, because I have been conditioned by months of throwing up when I ate the wrong thing to the point that food holds no pleasure for me. And that is just a shame. The worst part is that I don’t think food EVER held pleasure for me, just because it was food…because it was delicious, or beautifully prepared, or I was hungry…it was always some kind of security blanket.
I would love it if food was just FOOD. If when I was hungry I could just eat something healthy and well prepared and be happy and then stip when I was not hungry anymore. Eventually, with the band, and my therapist, I hope that I will be able to do that. But without it, I wouldn’t be. And that is just sad. How can such a basic survival need go so haywire?
Thyroid problems suck, but you know what rocks? Levothyroxine- magic medicine that gives you energy (so that you no longer need a nap at 2pm- WIN) and makes you thin (well, stops the thyroid related weight gain)
You know what’s bad for diets? Pictures of chocolate digestives on your web page! Mean mean aunt Becky!
Thyroid problems suck, but you know what rocks? Levothyroxine- magic medicine that gives you energy (so that you no longer need a nap at 2pm- WIN) and makes you thin (well, stops the thyroid related weight gain)
You know what’s bad for diets? Pictures of chocolate digestives on your web page! Mean mean aunt Becky!
Hey Aunt Becky,
So as you said muscle is more dense than fat so the same volume of muscle weighs quite a bit more than the same volume of fat. When you work with your awesome little weights, you’re making your toning your muscles which is A.) Increasing their size and or 2.) making the muscle tissue you had more dense adding more weight.
My thought is if you feel great and feel like you look great don’t worry about what the scale says, you’ve re-toned your muscles so now the rest of the fat will vacate the proximity of your awesomeness.
Seriously STOP weighing yoruself. Your weight in numbers has nothing to do with your health. Judge your weight on how your clothes fit. Muscle weight is heavier than fat. So the only numbers you should be concerned with is the size number on the back of your pants. Whatever size you want to fit into should be your goal, not some number on a scale that doesn’t take muscle mass into consideration 🙂
Throw. Out. The. Scale.
And … the diet pop. Seriously. I lived on it for years, it can exasperate headaches _and_ the artificial sweeteners can actually make you more hungry for crap, not less. Aside from the chemical make up of one of the sweeteners (apparently the same chem compound is used as an APPETITE STIMULANT in cows?) consuming the crap alerts your brain via the sweetness on your tongue that there is some SUGAR coming (whoo hooo! partay!) Then, when your body doesn’t get that promised sugar high, it gets cranky, mad for the stuff, which sends YOU on the hunt. Hence the vicious cycle.
I dropped 20 pounds when I stopped dieting and have been the same (give or take 5) ever since I stopped the trifecta of self-defeatism some 20 years ago: The Diet, The Diet Foods and The Scale. Even through 3 pregnancies, where I gained the usual 50lbs and lost it again WITHOUT TRYING. I am not skinny, but I am of average size. I am terrible with exercise, and am quite certain if I *did* get more, I would be reasonably trim. (But I don’t sooooooo …)
Eat reasonably, including the occasional Uncrustables. Drink water. Once you can “hear” your body tell you what it needs, it gets easier.
Word.
My scale must have escaped from the same mental clinic. That’s why I don’t get on it anymore. I’ve decided the best way to lose weight is to quit stressing out about it. I had a woman once comment on one of my blog posts…about meditation and being all zen-like, and she said she dropped kilos when she cut out stress in her life.
I’m hoping she is right…and in the meantime, I just keep doing my ass moving thing and stop worrying about the whole thing.
I have a whole scale theory. They are clearly out to get us all. Everyone tells me. You look like youa re losing weight. I say I wish the scale agreed with you. anyway my theory is this…
every scale is off at least 3 lbs. So That’s close to 5 so automatically take 5lbs off your weight. If you are top heavy like me, hear DDD, then that is at least another 10 lbs you can take off cause that is just weight that doesn’t go anywhere no matter what you do. And lastly your clothes weigh at least 5lbs. More if you are in jeans and shoes and a sweatshirt. so there ya go you can take 20lbs right off the top. 🙂 It’s a good theory and it works for me. Let me know how you like it.
When I asked my Dr. how to lose the weight she said…”Look at the bright side, If you were homesteading on the prairie it would take very little food to keep you alive.” Really? I hope the fucking zombies eat her first.
I don’t even know what to say except I am on week 10 of my diet (read 3.5 miles on the treadmill 6 days a week, and watching what I eat, and drinking tons of water) and I have lost a whopping 7lbs, I certainly fucking thought by week 10 I would at LEAST have lost a pound a week, but hell NO…… 150+ miles on the flipping treadmill and 7 fucking pounds…. I may or may not be a little pissed off by this, I will let you be the judge of that.
Oh and for all the peeps who say “judge by how your clothes feel” obviously was never seriously fat, or maybe I am the only chunky monkey who buys clothes loose (so as not to highlight the fat rolls) so its hard for me to tell if my clothes are loose or more loose or whatever
the only diet that has ever worked for me is the low glycemic diet,..i lost 7 pounds in 2 weeks. and proceeded to put it back on in a celebratory pepperidge farm cookie binge,.LOL
it is good for thyroid and diabetic issues as well. google that shit Low GI diet, and may the diet force be with you,,
ps,,,throw out the scale, they are ALL fukin broken,,every last one of them
Here’s my theory on how to keep a good attitude in the face of diminishing returns from diet and exercise: when I worked in a factory, management (in their infinite wisdom) announced that they were going to write up and punish the low producer on each crew. We quickly figured out that all we had to do to avoid trouble was not be the bottom guy…
As long as I look better than at least ONE sumbitch in my age category on Earth (or in America, or Tennessee, or Murfreesboro… just name your category) I’m doing fine.
Surely you look better than at least one person, right? If so, you’re doing fine! Have some Cheetos, drink a dark lager beer, and sit back with your feet propped up on that scale you’re now using for a paperweight!
Yeah…How I can I jump 5 lbs in like an hour without eating anything and also pooping in the time frame? RIIIIGHT.
Holy crap, McVittie’s Digestives! I lived on those things the summer I spent in England.
Scales are bullshit. Especially since muscle weighs more than fat.
I think all fitness gurus have broken scales.
HAHAHA! Oh man that sounds EXACTLY like me. At least you have an excuse – my damn thyroid is in perfect health *grumble* *grumble*
As for the killing spree… I have considered this one carefully and I believe that I would feel much better about my weight if I killed everyone thinner than me. Then you see I would be the thinnest, and that combined with my charming, witty personality, and lovely disposition would make me the perfect… well whatever I need to be perfect at at any given time.
OMG. My scale is worse than a boyfriend that treats you like shit and you ALWAYS go back. FUCK YOU DIGITAL SCALE.
I prefer to look at an old fashioned scale (with lines)with the glass covered in hair spray. Can fool myself better this way.
New reader to your site… And will be coming back again and again as this is one of the funniest things I’ve read in a long time!! Found out I am have hypo too… What’s up with that? Starting a weight loss challenge w friends tomorrow and hope to kick my scale’s ass!
Thanks for this!!
Man I have been trying to lose weight for FOREVER, but my problem is that I have the metabolism of a hibernating bear.
I finally lost those last ten pounds, but it took a serious amount of stress (as in ‘omg I might have a serious medical condition and we’re not going to have health coverage soon and I have to graduate or we might lose the house and..’ kind of stress), which actually caused more stress because I was dropping like 2 pounds a week and thought I was dying somehow.
So yeah, I’m not the best person to ask for weight loss advice.
My answer to rapid weight loss was to burst my appendix Whilst giving birth – all baby weight and then some gone in a week. NOT recommended. go for the parasite instead I’d say. You look great anyway whatever the scales say.
I’ve been trying to lose weight too and can feel your pain. Although I haven’ gained back any weight I’ve lost, it’s been 3 weeks since I’ve lose any more weight. I’ve been working my ass off and staying away from crap food and still the scale won’t budge!
Trying to lose weight the right way sucks. It’s so frustrating to not see progress. We can suffer through it together.
Definitely Nazareth.
Water. The key is lots and lots of WATER. Drink it if you want, but pouring it onto the scale is equally effective. In no time, your scale will short out, and you will be able to go back to vodka and ho-ho’s for lunch, without worrying about that pesky scale.
Brilliant!
Oh honey, pitch the scale, not the diet book! THOSE things are the evil.
my ‘lifestyle change’ woes are legendary. i was thinking of leaving a long comment here, but now i’ve decided that i should steal your idea and blog about it.
ALSO. i’ll tell you this: i’ve abandoned my latest ‘lifestyle change’ because i booked a cruise for later this month and if i lose too much weight, the new dress i bought for formal night won’t fit.
Oh AB, thank you kindly for writing my biography! 😉 Scales complete the unholy trinity of self-image evil, along with mirrors and cameras. We should have a big mirror/camera/scale bonfire one of these days.
My scale is clearly in cahoots with your scale. Today it told me I was up 1.2 pounds, despite the fact that I ate nothing but chicken noodle soup and snot all weekend.
In other news, I hate dieting. Which is probably why I’m still fat.
Whoa, what? Tell me this lemon water trick.
Yep, my scale is in it with your scale. Thank you for putting into words what my brain has been going through for the last couple of years. The last time I successfully lost weight, I had open-heart surgery. Don’t recommend it as a weight loss plan. Or any other kind of plan. But as someone else already said, the scale is my loser ex-boyfriend. I keep going back thinking this time will be different….
Another vote for Levothyroxine. Miracle drug. Oh – and cheap. Can’t beat that.
I have tears in my eyes from laughing at this post (and well, relating to it as well!).
My scale too has Borderline Personality Disorder. I would like to take a Sledge Hammer to it. We hate each other. In fact I don’t believe we are even on speaking terms.
I came over from Ree’s website and am not sure if anyone else suggested this but I read the book Women Food and God and it really helped me stop being obsessed with food…either obsessively eating it or obessively not eating it…
Anyhoo…
Scales are satanspawn. Poorly calibrated, unreliable junk. I have tossed them from my abode and rendered their power over my family null and void. I vow to wield my might hammer of justice and smash them all to bits – straight up Office Space-style. I am talking bad gangsta rap and everything. Damn it feels good…
AAAAAAAHHHHH: “surfing the crimson wave.”
…AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
*Down on my knees, hands above my head*
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Just clicked over from P-Dub’s, and you have a stalker for life now. That is so me right now it’s scary. Only minus the glandular problem and add in 3 months postpartum. If I can just get back in my skinny clothes then I can have a boob job and turn these monstrosities (H cups. WTF dude, I’ve never even HEARD of H cups before!) into something a bit more manageable. And the fat. is. not. going. the. hell. away.
I HATE scales. I never get on one unless I’m feeling super light and fluffy and unstoppably curious. I’m ALWAYS disappointed. I don’t own a scale and only get on one when my doctor makes me. I think I can tell when I’m not taking care of myself and my body is starting to hate me. It slows down like a computer with a serious virus. So I don’t have hypothyroidism, but I feel your pain. Also: it’s normal to gain weight first when you start working out with weights. It will come off. You just need to up your cardio too.
OMG. I so needed this today. Thank you.
if you buy a tapeworm farm can i borrow one? my diet is shit too and my nutritionist is all “2 pounds a week is saaafe…staying the same weight is a win!” and that’s bullshit cuz doesnt she know i dont want to be safe i want to be skinny. ps..i wish i had a fat nutritionist…her being skinny doesnt motivate me. whore
See, I banished my scale to the kids’ bathroom. It tells LIES. Every day for like a year I faithfully used my Wii Fit because that meant that at least I wasn’t sitting on my ass all day. I swear to God that every time I stepped on that fitness board I gained weight. Then we moved/relocated and I gained eve more weight so I totally blame the Wii Fit. I’m about 100 lbs overweight now and my husband bought me a treadmill for Valentine’s day. Which is appropriate since I generally ban the fake holiday in my house.
[…] My Scale Has Borderline Personality Disorder […]
I can so relate to this. I decided years ago that my scale was evil and threw it out. I haven’t owned one since. But I can still hear it…mocking me (and my fat ass)…to this day. Glad I found your blog though. Love it. 🙂