I figured out something crazy last night. I've weighed between 154 and 157 for the past 5 months. Holy shit. I haven't been a stable weight ever in my whole life. I honestly don't even know what to think about it. I mean, it's amazing to wake and know that my clothes will fit me. I still am not always sure who is the person in the mirror, but I think she is really pretty. The other day I was told JT in this surprised voice oh that's me and I'm pretty. And she was like duh. I never really thought I was pretty. I never even really thought I had a pretty face. I mean, I thought I was cute, but now I think I am pretty. And I like that feeling.
I wouldn't mind losing more weight, but I am not actively pursuing it at all anymore. I keep up about a 4 day a week work out schedule and I eat about 1000 calories during an average workday. When I get home, I eat about 1000 more calories before the night is over. I know that is not the best plan, but there is something so comforting about night eating that I sort of "save up" calories for it. I know I do it, so why fight it I guess.
On September 1st, I will be 18 months out of surgery. A year and half full of learning and losing and maintaining. It's wonderful.
I am in to getting my extra skin removed. I hate the roll it makes when I wear clothes.
When I went swimming a few weeks ago in the lake, the extra skin was floating all around my middle. My swim trunks nearly fell off because they didn't fit once the extra skin was away. It was weird.