Today, I feel and depressed like I usually do after a visit to the surgeon's office. I went for for my  9-month follow-up.  I'm slower than I should be because I haven't exercised, and I know it.  Of course, I feel guilty.  I so want to be praised for what I have done instead of what I haven't . The official loss since surgery is only 112 pounds, totaling 123.5 pounds since this all started.   I was stuck for the longest around 252, but I half-heartedly attempted the plateau buster diet, and the scale moved again.  Thank God! 
     In order to make the most of my tool, I must hire a personal trainer so that I don't hurt myself from over-exercising like I did over a month ago.  I stressed my muscles and made them too tense.  This has been my pitiful excuse not to exercise since then.  Part of me is still afraid to try again because it seems like results are so hard to achieve.  I get discouraged and feel like I'm not really making a difference even though I can see the tone in many areas of my body.  I must increase my aerobic exercise so as to exercise my most important muscle - my heart.  I must aim to lose 10 pounds a month and not beat myself up if I fall short of that goal.  After the holidays, I believe I can renew my commitment to myself.  I'm aching for my mother's cornbread dressing and lemon meringue pie!  Then, it's back to basics.  I must not allow my surgeon's demands to make me feel less than a success in this area.  I must pat myself on the back for what I have done and be proud of my success.