I guess I didn't sound desperate enough when I left pleading messages with potential therapists. No calls back.
The scale is inching higher. I've had a few days of binging and, of course, I'm going to pay for it some way. The scale doesn't lie. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.
Workout tonight. I think I start a new program. My thighs are getting hard. My upper arms have wavy muscles. Both areas have lovely yards of flabby skin draped elegantly over them. It's so fun being a middle-aged gastric bypass patient with skin that's lost any inclination of elasticity. Thank god it's moving into long-sleeve and turtle-neck weather.
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