The Number.

The number the number the number.

Ugh.

Today, I am trying to deal with my weighing-in number. Maybe it was the scale, maybe it was the chocolate bar, maybe I'll always be this number

but I'm going to FIGHT until it doesn't matter any more.

I wanted to come on here and write a big FUCK you to the number (no, I will not give it capitals because it is not that important). I wanted to say GUESS WHAT? I don't care. I'm going to look in the mirror and I'm going to love myself anyway.

Well, I tried that and the truth is I was seeing the number all over. Oh, there's where I get the number. And under here is the number, too. I became sick over my mind's decision based on a stupid fucking number.

What I can say is this: today I am deciding to fight. fight. fight. Fight with every FUCK YOU in my being. I am not just saying "I'm working on it," and letting it get to me anyway. Today, I am making a promise to myself to fight this demon straight up, face to face. Every time the number comes into my head, I will replace it with a positive thought. Every time I think something poor about myself because of the number, I will find at least 5 things that I am grateful to have. It's selfish, isn't it? To complain about all the things we don't have. When in reality, we have so much. Each and every one of us, we are so rich with emotion and character and energy. Every single day. And there's avocados and slides and cotton candy and puppies and kittens and babies and ice cream and smiles. Why keep telling ourselves about the things that aren't as good?

As corny as it may sound...

Today, I am FIGHTING for the Good. I am FIGHTING for the Love.



"Think of someone very, very special to you.
Now feel yourself bursting with love for them.
Now mentally shower, drench, and soak them in that love.
Now mentally shower, drench, and soak yourself, Holland, in my love.

Cascades,
 The Universe"