Mass Murder

This morning I step on the scale just to "check-in" and see where I am at. I go through my usual weigh in ritual; pee, try to more than pee, strip down and set the scale in "it's spot" on the bathroom floor because as we all very well know every ounce counts and the slightest change in location on the bathroom floor could detrimentally change the number that pops up on that scale. Then I take deep breath, exhale as much as possible and step on.

Error.

What? Is it broken? Maybe I just need to move it. Step on again, more carefully this time.

Error. 

Really?? Hmm...must be broken. Seems like an awful short life span for a scale, but maybe so. Maybe I should test it with something else....just to be sure. (Ugh sinking, nagging feeling is starting to bubble in my gut like pissed off butterflies.) Shampoo bottle.

Blank.

Shampoo and conditioner.

Turns on then blank.

Ok, maybe it isn't working and that nagging feeling is for nothing. Or perhaps those bottles just don't weigh enough to register. Hmm. Oh hell....fine. How about just part of me, like my leg.

Ding! Ding  Ding! We have a winner and a weight- which for some reason I have managed to black from my memory, but it was obviously more than a shampoo bottle, less than my full body and enough to register on the scale proving it is not only working, but that I also have managed to outweigh my scale. 

Freakin' awesome!

How in the....? Why the...? How did I.....? Well no. How is easy stupid munch mouth. What have I freakin' DONE?!?!? 

I have no idea where my weight is now, but I know it is enough to TOP OUT A FREAKING SCALE and this realization kills me. Kills my desire to try again. Kills my will to care. Kills my vision of reaching the goal. Kills what bit of pride I had in myself. Kills my self-esteem. Kills part of my happiness. I look inside and there is just so much massacre, I don't know what pieces are left and of what is left is it even worth trying to revive. 

I know I have amazing people in my corner who can help and encourage me, but truth be told I don't even want to ask. Why should I? I am like "the boy who cries wolf" for fat people. "Help! Please help! I don't think I can do this! I need encouragement and workout buddies!" They come running, because they are amazing, and then in the end I "laugh" at them as I fail to not only lose but to GAIN......AGAIN. What a waste. I feel like a total waste. I want to give in, give up and just eat my way to the end already. Screw it.

Rest in peace skinny dipper Stephanie. You were an amazing goal while you lasted.