I had set the alarm with every intention to wake up at 5am and go for a morning jog. This Friday will mark the 7th week since I delivered my baby girl. But as soon as I heard the beep...beep....beep. I grabbed my cell phone and pushed the off button without a second thought. About 45 min later when I heard my daughter crying for her morning bottle. I glanced over at my phone and realized that I had missed my alarm. I quickly sat up and tried to get up as fast as I could. Only to trip over the covers and fall out of bed. half dazed I ran over to my daughters crib and picked her up. After I had soothed her and put her back to sleep. I walked over to my phone and saw that I didn't have enough time to go for my run. I tossed the phone onto the sofa and walked to the bathroom and stepped into the shower. As I lathered my body in soap. I looked at my sagging belly and the stretch marks that covered it. I started to cry. I was so disappointed in myself.
"why hadn't I gotten up?"
My boyfriend tells me that he loves me and that it doesn't matter to him whether I lose the weight or not. I wish that his acceptance could somehow put to rest my feelings of insecurity, but it doesn't. I've always struggled with my weight and I have never been able to accept my body. I am always looking for ways to improve it. It would be a cheap shot to try and blame the media, because that is what everyone seems to blame. Those beautiful people on the cover of the magazine have to work hard to look the way that they do. Looking at them doesn't make me think any less of myself. Looking at them makes me admire them and motivates me to get into shape.
I guess it is just going to take time for me to figure out a schedule. That I can stick to. I need to get back into shape. I also need to shake off this depression that is threatening to take over my life.
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