Instead, all I did over the last seven months was lower my GOOD cholesterol. That's right. It appears that I actually hurt rather than helped myself in the cholesterol category. My bad cholesterol (LDL) was exactly the same. And my thyroid came out fine, which I guess is a good thing but I was really looking for something to blame my stagnant weight-loss on.
All afternoon I have listened to people tell me that it's genetics and despite the unchanged number, I'm a healthier person than I was back in March (although neither the scale or my cholesterol tells me so). While I know that is probably true, I only wish I felt that way. I feel like a failure. I feel helpless that I have no control over my body. I worked so hard and while I figured it wouldn't change enough to avoid medication, I had hoped that I at least lowered the number a little. Well, I lowered the wrong number.
I wanted nothing more than to throw myself a pity party tonight so I could cry and wallow in my sorrows. But after a brisk run home and the support of some friends, I decided I needed to snap out of feeling bad for myself. In the last 24 hours, two people have told me I inspire them and make them proud. That means the world to me and I don't want to let them down. So I'll keep pushing and fighting to lose more weight, incorporating the tips my doctor suggested and get to a weight that earns me the elusive pat on the back.
Sometimes a journey hits a dead end and the weary traveler, although discouraged, must find another way to forge ahead. I just have to figure out what way will get me to where I want to be.
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