It is so strange being back at 290 pounds. Only a year has passed since I was a much fitter and healthier version of myself, but it’s the first time in I don’t know how long, that I can remember what it was like to be a better version of myself. When I was 370 pounds it had been so long since I was fit and healthy that being 370 pounds was my only true memory of myself.

I mean, I didn’t just wake up and, POOF! the weight came back. I simply turned a blind eye to it (we’ll eventually delve into the “why” later). Part of me feels like I never truly left this unheathy lifestyle and weight and the other part of me feels like an imposter now in my own body and closet because I know now what being healthy truly looks and feels like.

You could equate this part of my journey to gambling… like playing a hand of blackjack. You hit and bust and hit and bust and then BLACKJACK!!! But then, in the blink of an eye it’s all gone. All of that hard work, time and money that went into getting that win is gone because you decided to go, “All in!” on that next hand.

Ok so maybe gambling isn’t the best comparison to my journey, but I’m betting you get the point (ah you see what I did there?).

The bottom line, the further and further you get away from how it felt after that initial win, the harder it is to get back that momentum, that belief that you will ever win again.

But there’s no harm in playing just one more hand right? Afterall, isn’t it the rush of those wins, no matter how small that kept you going?

Hello… it’s me… and I believe it’s time I put my fingers to the QWERTY (sung in the key of the amazing Adele).

I’ve been struggling for some time now to get what I’ve been wanting to say down into a blog post. It’s been quite a while since I said anything, and the constant pics and status updates from Timehop and the like have made it even harder to admit out loud what I’ve known for some time… I. Have. Failed. I’ve failed all those who were supporting and following me and most importantly I’ve failed myself because I gave up.

When I look back on 2015 I see a lot of amazing memories, but I also see the loss of myself… the person I worked so hard to become. Gone are the days of beets and gymmin’ it and back are the days of bagels and couchin’ it and the oh so glorious, “Monday I’m starting over again” (and again and again and again ad nauseum).

But I didn’t… and I haven’t. What I have now is a closet full of skinny clothes, a list of things that I was able to do after I lost the weight the first time, but mostly can’t now since I’ve gradually gained a lot of it back, barely used really cute cross trainers and fierce looking muay thai gloves. I also have my thoughts… my thoughts about how it used to be.

Before when I would falter I would get right back up. But now, I’ve fallen so far off the horse that I’ve pretty much lost hope and faith in myself that I will ever get back on it. I definitely still want it, but I can want it all I want, it’s my actions, like always that are going to speak louder than my words. And right now my actions are barely even a whisper.