well first I had a really shit time in high school and some bad stuff happened to me in my life but luckiliy my mum had raised me to trust in myself and the universe so I decided to try being awesome. I tried really really hard and then I was.
That's how many weeks I have been alive (give or take a couple of days). Two thousand one hundred and seventy-nine. Yet here I am still fighting the same fights I have always fought. Self-image, self-acceptance, unrelenting standards, imposter syndrome. Once again I find myself in a body that feels uncomfortable and unhealthy. It crept up on me slowly and suddenly all at the same time. I still barely eat any refined sugar. I turn down the lollies and cakes and doughnuts at work. It's not even a struggle, I no longer enjoy the way sugar makes my body feel. But my old nemesis, potato chips, remains undefeated. I eat potato chips to fill the emptiness in my soul. To feel as miserable physically as I do mentally or emotionally. To get comfort from an association with my childhood. It is the struggle I can't overcome. The war I can't win. So after months of trying on my own to no avail, months of the scales not budging, I have signed up for a healthy eating plan. I'm n
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