Some people are preternaturally happy. Alas. I am not one of them. I’m prone to downward spirals capped off with full-blown depressions. Is it any wonder that I find it difficult to visualize actually being happy?

I used to think that being thin would make me happy. And while I’ve never really actually been thin, I’ve come to see that being thin probably won’t make me any less bitter, moody, depressed or unhappy than I am on a regular basis. I’ve often wished that I could just be one of those happy people (thin or not) who seized every day as if it was their last. For me, though, every day so far has been one to be met and usually not mastered. I do let things get to me, and I can’t just brush things off.

I find it really hard to look inside and see what’s there. My partner will ask me … why are you unhappy? I can’t say. It isn’t one thing. It’s everything and nothing. Life’s kicked me around a bit, and my skin has grown so thick I’m not sure there’s an inside left. Maybe I’m just a big fat wad of tough old skin, right down to the core.

Eating for all these years has provided temporal joy. When I’ve enjoyed something really tasty, the clouds go away (if only for a moment) and there’s something else to focus on. But now that I want to lose weight, I see that to shed the tonnage, I’ve got to look inside and find something else that can really nourish who I am. Writing this blog has helped me focus on something other than food, or diet. By committing to writing it every day, it’s made me see that with a little more thought about the “why” of losing weight, the “how” might take care of itself.

And that’s something I can visualize.