Well, fuck

Well, here I am again. If I haven’t posted in a while, it’s because I entirely forgot this blog existed. I started a new diet three days ago. Today I sat down to blog about it—new blog, Blogger: Ever Downward and Onward—and wrote a nice long blog post. Then for some reason I decided to search for “Tycha” and “diet” tonight and found this. And shit.

What happened? I was doing so well. I was full of drive and commitment and excitement. I remember losing about 45 pounds. And then I… stopped. I’m not sure. Started eating junk again. Stopped blogging. Stopped caring. So here I am, almost three years later, and the only reason I’m not above the weight I started out at three years ago is because I started Wednesday. I was 1.2 lb higher when I started.

It’s funny, because my post at Blogger was about being full of optimism and determination and drive all the while knowing I had that same optimism and determination and drive each time I started a diet. And, well, I’m going to post it here, so I might as well just copy & paste.


361.4, 4.8 pounds lost

I should have started this three days ago, on the 20th. It was the first day of spring, and the first day of my new diet.

I hesitate to sound enthusiastic. How many times have I been here before? How many times have I started a diet? And how many times have I given up, fallen off the wagon, stopped dieting, pigged out, broken my promises, given in, and all those other lovely synonyms for failure and fatness and incompetence and weakness? Well, to date, every one. I have no idea what the number is, although I can tell you that Google Drive has spreadsheets labeled “Weight Loss” (from 2011) and “Weight Loss 2012” to keep the latest one company. There’s at least two similar ones in Excel buried in the bowels of my laptop among the files copied over from earlier computers. And there’s all the earlier times, when I went to Bally’s faithfully during my lunch break at the Figueroa Street office, or after driving home from the Santa Fe Springs office. There was the time I joined Bally’s in Montclair with Cynthia and the time in Hollywood on my own. There was the Optimax diet I did at Cedar Sinai and the Slimfast diet I did several times in college. And these are diets memorable for their length. It doesn’t count all the times I started a diet and lasted a day or two. I think I started one in January, because, you know, New Year’s resolutions and all, and that one might have lasted mere hours.

Yes, I’m determined, but haven’t I been determined before? Haven’t I been as enthusiastic and sure of myself and all before? What makes me think this time will be different? It’s frightening, frankly.


I feel powerless to change it.

I want to promise to be faithful to this diet. I want to promise that if I make a mistake I will pick myself up and try again. I want to promise to take care of myself. Except that I’ve promised this before and broken each of those promises. And now I wonder how much I trust myself to do anything I say. I want to be a person of integrity, but when it comes to me and what I promise myself, I’m a liar and a cheat and a fraud. Dieting is an act of self-care, but what I have about dieting is self-loathing.

So, no promises yet except those of the moment. I’m going to publish this and then I’m going to go ride my exercycle for 20 minutes, and then I’m going to make myself a healthy brunch of eggs, tomatoes, and cream cheese. I’m going to do the dishes and start the corned beef in the crock pot, so I have a healthy dinner. And I’m going to work on my to do list, because that’s a promise in a small way.

And I’m going to think about loving myself and keeping my own promises.


So, there we have it. And now we’re faced with the great unknown. Can it be different this time? I honestly don’t know. All I can promise is that right here, right now, I am not eating in a way that harms me. (I’m also not eating at the moment.)

I started posting on the Facebook weight loss group, but it looked pathetic, so I deleted it. I had so much I wanted to say, though. I am in awe of and jealous of Lindsay. And I wanted to ask, “What does she have that I don’t? Why can she lose weight and I can’t?” And the answer is not that she can lose weight, it’s that she does lose weight. It’s not something inherently different and special about her, but that she works it. I don’t want to go all fucking 12-step here, but in this case, “It works if you work it,” is true. It works if you eat what you are supposed to and don’t stuff your face with Goldfish and candies and pints of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. (Seriously, Lauren?) It works if you get enough sleep and take your vitamins and drink your water, and exercise helps. And she does. And you don’t. And that’s why she’s losing and you have been stalling. No, not stalling. You have been ignoring the problem. And that won’t make it go away. It rarely does. Waiting only removes choices.

So, who do you want to be? Your choice, but you have to choose it.



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