The image on the right is a graph of my weight as tracked in Weight Watchers. It makes me very sad to look at it.
At the far left, you see my starting weight in May 2013. I did well, losing about 15 pounds at a relatively steady pace until the last time I logged my weight in 2013—the week my dog died. Two weeks prior to that, my father-in-law passed away. I was already feeling pretty low.
That straight, smooth, steep climb visually represents how I gave up on my health-related goals and indulged my sadness. I’d never really thought of myself as an emotional eater, but then I’d never experienced a period of such intense sadness before. I guess now I know. Because in 9 months I’ve gained 20 lbs.
I’m fucking stunned.
I re-opened my Weight Watchers account, charged up my Fitbit, then went for a walk in the park this morning—despite the fatigue I’m presently suffering due to a vitamin D deficiency. Something has got to change.