I have no idea what I am doing

SERIOUSLY!

I mean, I had some success doing South Beach phase 1. I lost 7 lbs in 2 weeks. And then I started adding carbs back in and everything went to pot. I not only stopped losing, but I started gaining. Which I tried to counter by pretty much throwing in the towel and eating whatever I wanted, because if I was going to gain anyway...

You get the picture.

Before my surgery, I was back up to 243, just 3 measly pounds down from my starting point.

Awesome.

Last week, I was back down to 239.5, which was great... except I have no idea how it happened. And I have no idea what the scale is going to say tonight, because I have been doing a whole lot of nothing on the weight-loss front this past week.

OK, I take that back. I have been doing something. I've been reading about different eating plans trying to figure out which one I think I can actually stick with long-term. I've been beating myself up for making bad choices in the midst of making them. I've been cheering on while secretly being jealous of friends who are making good choices. And I've been telling myself that this is just who I am, that I've always been this way, and that I'll never be able to change.

Oh those negative thoughts we whisper to ourselves, right?

The truth is, I haven't always been this way. There was a time when I was on a swim team and swam for an hour and a half every morning before school. Even after I quit swim team, I was never super-skinny, but I was not fat. I thought I was. But now I know better.

Even in my adulthood, I have lost weight before. The lightest I can remember getting in recent history was 198 lbs, though, which is still a long way off from my goal weight.

I have noticed a pattern to my thinking, though. Every time I start to lose weight and start noticing changes in my physic, I get freaked out and start eating again. It's almost like I'm afraid that if I shed this weight once and for all, I wont' have the excuse of being "too fat" anymore... and I may have to actually let people see me and I might actually have to try things and I might fail... or I might succeed. And that is terrifying.

So I sabotage myself. And I start to gain back the weight, and I'm able to hide again.

I can almost hear Dr. Phil in my head, "And how is that working for you?"

It's not, Dr. Phil. I know that. I can admit it. But I'm not sure yet how to change it.

So that is where I'm at. Stuck. More self-aware this time, maybe, but still stuck. But I know enough to know that eating my way through a half gallon of ice cream at 11:00 at night is not going to help this time. I'm just not sure what will.