Not to belabor the point, but

What does it mean to have a relationship with food? It seems odd to even articulate that--a relationship with food. Food should be nothing, like air. I don't think about my relationship with air. It's just there, doing what it needs to do without any thought on my part. Why can't it be the same with food?

I'm not a big eater, but I think about food a lot. I don't mean I think about eating, but rather I think about food strategically. What can I eat? What can I absolutely not eat? Is it OK to consume something? Did I earn these calories?

I've lost the ability to enjoy food. My thoughts and strategies around calories are so strong and have been for so long that even when I eat something delicious, any pleasure or appreciation for it is quickly replaced with anxiety and guilt. Did I earn that food? What will I have to do to offset the calories? How much walking is that? How much will I not be able to eat later because I ate this? How many calories did that have? Will it impact my carbohydrate load for this 24-hour period? Why did I eat that?

Regret and anxiety are the two emotions I most closely link to food. That's probably not normal, right?

I have a pretty good idea of what my basal metabolic rate is, so now I obsess over every calorie that goes beyond that. If my body needs only 400 calories a day to maintain basic systems, then I have to engage in activity that will offset every additional calorie I consume to have a net-zero calorie intake. It's exhausting. It's the reason I can't enjoy food. Whenever I eat, all I can think about is the amount of work I'm going to have to do to not store calories and gain weight.

This is a complicated and sad way to live, especially since at the end of it all, I'm still clinically obese with a BMI of 32. I have to lose another 17 pounds just to be merely seriously overweight.

I am in a rage about this. I haven't gone through menopause (despite my many jokes about it), I don't eat badly to begin with, and I move a lot at work. I park far away as a rule. I take the stairs. I drink liters of water every day. I am so angry and frustrated with my body, I feel like starvation or something like it is the only thing that will stop this disgusting turn of events. 

When I was working out so much in 2012-2013, in nine months of KILLING myself at the gym and flaring my fibromyalgia, I only ever lost 6 pounds, and even they kept fluctuating. 

In the end, I want to be like that chick who won The Biggest Loser and end up at 105. I HAVE EARNED IT and I feel cheated.

I will see this through or die trying.