Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you know you should do something and you absolutely want to do it, but you just can’t seem to muster the will to do it?

Today is day 15,628 of my life on this earth. There is nothing particularly significant about this day. It is just another day in a string of countless days, when I look at my life and know I need to make a change, but the very idea feels overwhelming.

Life is hard. Over the last decade, I have seen some of my highest highs and my very lowest lows. I am the heaviest I have ever been, which is really quite an accomplishment. The last time I lost enough weight to be under three hundred pounds, I vowed to myself that I would never get here again. Yet, here I sit now, closer to four than to three hundred.

I want to lose the weight. Truly. I know I am capable. I have lost (and gained) the same hundred pounds twice before. I am so emotional. Everything feels out of control. I feel like I am drowning in a sea of impossible tasks. My executive dysfunction is making even the simplest of things seem insurmountable. I really don’t know how to get out of my own way.

So, I have decided to start writing. Historically, when I write things down, they feel less heavy. Here I am. Messy. Broken. Empty.