Belly Fat

I’ve been having conflicting thoughts about whether to try to lose that last bit of belly fat, or just leave my body alone. Looking down at even that slight bulge hurts my heart, but I don’t want to lose that hurt to what seems to be vanity. Same old same old with me – vanity and body issues versus real life. I’ve avoided and kicked addictions – pot, cigarettes, alcohol – and pregnancy actually cured the one addiction I thought would be with me forever – my eating disorder. There was no room in my brain to worry about caloric intake versus energy expenditure, all my thoughts were about being healthy and eating enough for baby. So it’s mildly surprising to me to have a vague desire to lose weight. Like, who the hell am I to worry about a little belly fat? I need to be concentrating on not getting depressed, or on making sure my marriage is still good, or on staying healthy so that we can try for another baby.

I’ve always had addictive behaviors, even when I was little. What do I do now? I’ve got nothing, no cigs, no bulimia, no obsessive reading of pregnancy books. Is this what most people feel like most of the time? I just feel kind of bored. I need an addiction, but I don’t want it to be a bad one, I’ve worked too hard to get rid of the bad ones. Maybe obsessive behavior is a better term than addiction. I need to be obsessive about something, but something constructive, maybe like throwing clay or organizing my photo collection. Trouble is, everything seems kind of meaningless right now. I should be fighting that feeling. I know I should believe that being pregnant didn’t give my life meaning, my talents and achievements and goals did. My brain says, that’s the right way to think, but my heart says bullshit, you amount to nothing until you prove you can have a baby like a normal woman. Continuing to stuggle with irrational thoughts.