I've been trying to keep this to myself but I don't know why.
I've lost 80 pounds since October, motherfuckers. Still a long way to go. I had reached crisis point and had been actively avoiding scales since Oskar dropped because I knew the news wasn't good. It wasn't. Like, 263 pounds not good. So 80 pounds later, I'm at 183, I'm a size 12, and the smallest I've been since I was about 13 or 14 years old. I'm wearing a t-shirt my grandmother bought for me in 8th grade (and she's been dead for 8 years). If I want to hit the right BMI, I need to lose another 60-ish pounds, but hey! I'm not morbidly obese anymore! Just regular obese!
I work for a knitting designer who gives me free yarn, pays me to knit projects for her, I work 3 days a week, she pays me 12 dollars an hour, and I roll in and out whenever I feel like it.
My husband is hot shit. My kid is a fucking genius.
FUCK YES ME.
On a side note, intensive therapy and the worst 8 months of my life spent trying different medications before I found the wonder of Lamictal may have a lot to do with this. But my depressive symptoms have been gone, GONE, for the first time since I was 12, for almost a year. Never leave me, sweet sweet Lamictal.
I work for a knitting designer who gives me free yarn, pays me to knit projects for her, I work 3 days a week, she pays me 12 dollars an hour, and I roll in and out whenever I feel like it.
My husband is hot shit. My kid is a fucking genius.
FUCK YES ME.
On a side note, intensive therapy and the worst 8 months of my life spent trying different medications before I found the wonder of Lamictal may have a lot to do with this. But my depressive symptoms have been gone, GONE, for the first time since I was 12, for almost a year. Never leave me, sweet sweet Lamictal.