In the beginning...

My name is Anna, and i'm tired. Tired of avoiding my reflection in shop windows, tired of sweating so much on nights out that my make up runs and tired of aching knees. I'm tired of relying on food to cheer me up, tired of the huge drawer in my wardrobe filled with clothes I no longer can fit into and i'm tired of worrying about seeing my friends and what they'll think of my weight. Huge parts of me tell me not to care, huge parts of me tell me to have another doughnut, have another beer and take the car to places I easily could walk to. This morning I stepped on the scales and tipped them at 19 stone, 13 pounds. This is the fattest I have been since my first year of uni. I have battled with my weight for as long as I can remember, and as I exited the bathroom I caught my own eye in the mirror in the hallway. And I hated what I saw. Someone who had given up on their image. I cannot count the amount of times I have said "right, this time it shall be different, no really" then a week later find myself eating pizza saying "well, there's always tomorrow" So today I picked myself up and went swimming even though i'd had a "bad food day" and asked about gym prices. Tomorrow I shall join the gym and overcome my fear of exercising in public. This is a blog about a tired, fat, annoyed girl who wants to share her experiences in the dieting world. This is not a health kick, this is not a denial of my yearning to be thinner. This is an un-apologetic account of my weight loss.