So I went to Zumba last night and was absolutely appalled at how fat I looked in the mirror. And that is being 45 pounds under my highest weight.
Then as class went on, and I was in the back corner, unable to see the tiny, peppy instructor, I realize that I was the fattest girl in the room. And I wanted to cry and leave and give up. Because even after busting my ass for the past six months and only losing 30 pounds in that time, no one had noticed that I've lost weight. Seriously. No one except my mother, who knows I'm trying to lose weight and always comments on my weight, regardless of if I am on a diet or not.
I wanted to post a happy entry about how I finally hit 30 pounds lost, and go over what I regularly eat, but that post is going to sit in my drafts folder until I can get past this current phase "Why bother?" And "what's the point?"