When you start to wonder if it's possible

I know that blogging about weight the day after Christmas doesn't make sense. However, I can assure you my holiday eating has been rather scant. Even if it hadn't been, I've spent months working with a physical therapist who has served as a personal trainer who has been pushing me as hard as possible three days a week and giving me rigorous homework the other three days. I injured my knee somehow (probably because I'm obese, no doubt) and despite needing a cane for a while I still exercised as much as possible, taking stairs when I could and never once using a motorized cart or a handicap parking space. I've worked up a sweat every single day, even when it hurt like hell and the only thing I had to relieve the pain was over-the-counter painkillers. I painstakingly wrote down every single calorie even when I was overwhelmed with essays, exams, and lab assignments. I cried when it got hard but wasn't it worth it? It would be worth it in the end when my jeans were looser and my t-shirts not so tight.

But that never happened. In fact, I've gained weight. I bought exercise bands, a medicine ball and a strap for stretching and still nothing. I've missed out on stuff on campus so I could rush home and spend an hour and a half exercising and nothing. I lost my teens being made fun of and being self-conscious, my 20's being fat and having no fun and not being able to wear anything remotely fashionable, and no my 30's. I've spent most of life being overweight and miserable as a result. I'd give anything to be beautiful and worthwhile.