I’ve been dieting for almost a year and a half, slowly dropping down to my target weight. The first few months were easy, but since then progress has been maddeningly slow. I’m still slimming down — this month I dropped another waist size and am now within ten pounds of my second of three goal weights. However, it’s taking more and more work to drop this weight, and maintaining self-control remains as difficult as ever. I have come to terms with not being able to have a burger and fries for lunch every day, but there are still other things in my life that make dieting difficult. If dieting is stressing you out, take solace in the fact that you aren’t alone in these frustrations. Or, if someone you know is dieting, try to keep these things in mind when talking to them about eating.
Maybe I give myself too much credit. Perhaps I am not so lovable. Still, as much as I might enjoy the power trip that comes along with identifying with a tough-as-nails lead or a ne’er-do-well trickster, the characters that most seem to resemble me are the betas. The second-stringers. And, hey, here’s to us. We keep the world running while the alphas are hoarding the pretty girls and money. Sure, it’s just the illusion of being important. Give us something, we have so little.
I worry a lot. Too much. I worry about the future. I worry about change, about failure, about rejection. I worry about failing past the point of no return. I worry that I will never achieve my goals. I worry that the two big life goals I have set for myself are impossible to achieve. I worry that I am wasting my time and my life on people and things that will never amount to anything.
My brother and I are very different people. Not in a good/evil way, mind you, but in a much more boring, yin-and-yang sort of way. For example, when he graduated high school, he got a car. When I graduated, I got a computer. He once painted his bathroom orange and blue to celebrate his love of the Chicago Bears. I have spent hours researching which color of Cherry MX switch might best suit my typing style. He probably went on more dates in high school than I have in my entire life. And, like most brothers, I’m sure we spent more time bickering than getting along as kids.