It's two o'clock in the morning.

I can't sleep.

Apparently my body my mind decided it wasn't going to need much more than 2.5 hours of sleep and here I am waiting for 3:30a to arrive so I can get ready for my boxing class.

My mind won't shut down.

Let's talk about what the hell is going on in my world right now.

* I made goal weight this week: For the last 11 months I have kicked, screamed, laughed, cried, run, jumped, swam, fought, and poured gallons of sweat off my body to go from 270 down to 170 and I had no plan of action as to what I would do once I arrived. I never thought I would get here. Instead of reveling in what I've accomplished I am in near panic mode over arriving at my "destination" and not sure where to go from here. It's like planning for a year to save up to go to Europe and you only focus on the saving up part. I'm in the proverbial "Europe" and I didn't plan what I was going to do once I landed.

* I feel wishy-washy in my decisions: Count calories, don't count calories. Work out every day, don't work out every day. Focus on lifting weights, focus on cardio. Run, don't run. Everyday I feel like I can't make a decision as to how I want to handle this LCJ. It was so much easier in the beginning when I was fat and lazy: Eat less, move more, cry cry cry, repeat. Now? Now I can't seem to get a f*cking grip on what I'm supposed to do. Again, it comes down to the notion of never thinking I would even get to a place where this would be my reality.

* I'm still thinking like 270 pound Tara: I really want to enjoy 170 pound Tara, but it's not happening that much at the moment. I'm starting to wonder if my mind will ever catch up to the person looking back from the mirror. You'd think once you reach goal weight the voices (tape recorders, your mother's voice or whatever you want to call it) would shut the f*ck up but in my world they are loud and clear. Oh I know I wrote about Fat Tara going away and believe me I'm sure she is gone. I'm not talking about physically Fat Tara, I'm talking about emotionally Fat Tara (EFT cause you know I like my Three Letter Acronyms). You know EFT right? She's the one that steps on the scale multiple times a day because she knows it's absolutely possible to gain 100 pounds overnight. She's the one that will walk around the Costco tasting all the delicious morsels and then cry in the car because she sure she walked in a size 32 but walked out a size 44. She's the one that is convinced that shopping in the same place where she donated all her clothes (value village) is the only place she should shop because one day she's going to need to buy all her clothes back. Why? Well surely this whole size 32 situation is a fluke.

* I'm dying to go shopping in a real store: A real clothing store. One that only sells clothes. Not one that also sells dog food or lawn mowers or all the holiday nick knacks. I want to buy clothes from a place with good-looking young college students. Not a place where the aisle light say's "twelve items or less" or "family friendly" or where the checker wears a wrist brace from slinging boxes of frozen pizzas over the register all day. I don't want to shop where there is a door greeter or some dumb ass blue light special. I want to shop at the Gap, Old Navy and American Eagle. I won't lie I'd kind of like to buy something from Abercrombie and Fitch and yet I can't bring myself to stand in their doorways and give myself permission to do so. As crazy as it sounds, I am convinced nothing will fit and the people (customers/employees) will laugh at me for even trying. I buy clothes from places like Wal-Mart, Fred Meyer, and Target not because it's cheaper but because I find comfort in knowing that obese people shop there and they won't laugh at me.

* I don't trust myself: There I said it. I don't trust that this 100 pound loss will stay off for good. I don't trust that I will continue to move forward. I don't trust that I can be successful in my LCJ. I don't trust that I can build an army of awesomeness and go forth and change the world. I don't trust that I can have ONE piece of pumpkin pie with ONE dollop of whip cream during Thanksgiving and then walk away without trying to sneak a piece in the bathroom, shoving it down in one bite and then making myself throw up so that I can convince myself I didn't eat it.

* I'm an emotional mess: Today I am okay with that. Part of this process is acknowledging what is going on and putting it out there to the universe. I can't sleep because these are the things on my mind and they are heavily weighing me down (pun absolutely intended). Am I going to rush out and conquer all my fears and tribulations: No. I don't need too. However, I do need to actively continue to walk this path of forward movement no matter how much I don't trust myself or how badly I want smack EFT for causing me angst.

Funny thing happens when you can't keep your eyes closed and you decide to get a little honest with yourself in the middle of the night. You end up canceling your 330a boxing class and going back to bed for some much needed sleep.

*YAWN*