That’s right ~ my scale. The metal thing, the one with the dial and numbers that has controlled my life for too long.
Didn’t seem to matter what the weather was, a beautiful warm sunny day, with the birds chirping outside, but that number shifting up instead of down sets the tone for the day and at times makes me believe I am worthless and such a failure. I realize life shouldn’t be this way; yet it has been.
So this morning, as with every morning, I hopped on the scale and I was up 3 pounds. I fell to my knees, so distraught and began to cry. Then I thought, this is not the way to live. Hubby just looked at me, and I said “hide this fucking thing, I don’t want to look at it anymore”. And he did.