Tuesday, August 27, 2024 at 3:07 AM

I’ve been putting this off, but I promised myself I would be truthful (well, about this anyway). It hasn’t been the best of weeks. After 4 weeks of hitting the Mounjaro, My weight has plateued. I’ve been stuck at 351 or 2 since last week. I knew things would taper to less weight loss per week, and I know plateaus happen, and god knows there are other changes I need to make, (I’m trying, honest!). I just can’t rely on the needle, right? It says right on the box, “combined with a healthy diet and exercise routine, yada yada yada”. But I didn’t think that curve would flatten out so fast. Kick in the nuts #2: I found out my insurance plan is changing and Mounjaro isn’t going to be covered and even if it was, perscriptions are really only covered after you meet your annual deductible. I know, change is invetible, and I understand that hard business decisions have to be made. And yes, we’ll figure out a plan B somehow. But Jesus Christ! I felt like I had one thing locked down that I could count on. I wouldn’t have to worry about this, at least for a while. Couldn’t they have just left it alone for another year? And from the Department of ennui: Earlier this week a friend posted here that his weight is down to 171. I’m not jealous or envious. I 100% love this guy and congratulate him. He’s worked hard to get there and deserves all the success in the world. But everytime I think about it, my first thought is “I weigh two of him, if each one was holding a welsh corgi”. I know, he didn’t start where I did, but it illustrates in glorious technicolor how steep my personal hill really is. I had planned on finishing this with something upbeat, even motivational – “adversity makes us tough”. And Yea, I’ll probably feel better about this in the morning. It will be a busy workday, I’ll be surrounded by people, and it’ll be bookended by a long mountain drive which I actually enjoy. Desperate but not serious right? More than likely the next one of these will be from that happy go lucky guy you know and tolerate and he’ll be blustering and pontificating about progress and accomplishments to amaze and astound you all. But to be 100% honest, right here, right now, alone in the dark, I feel incredibly small and powerless. I’m in a rowboat with no compass and no land in site, and the storm isn’t just a storm anymore. I don’t know if I’ve got what it takes to row myself out.