I don't believe me.

I'm full of cheerful encouraging words. Full of ideas of how things are going to be different starting tomorrow morning. Full of promises and visions and knowledge.

Nothing changes.

I'm back up (and over) where I was weight-wise last Christmas, before I lost the last 10 pounds. Nothing changes.

I'm eating meat again, though I don't want to be. I want to be getting my protein from non-animal sources, want to be feeding my family healthy meals, being an example for my children and husband, parents and siblings. And yet... nothing changes.

I want to be a runner. Want to take the spare minutes to strengthen my body with Pilates, to limber my muscles and joints with yoga, to push myself and see definition by strength training. But I'm not. I'm doing nothing.

My clothes aren't fitting, and shopping is excruciating. The worse I look, the worse I feel, the worse I behave, the worse my choices. It's a cycle I'm all too familiar with.

And I can't seem to remember how to break it.