I tend to put on a few pounds during the winter months. Lack of exercise, abundance of holiday treats, and the illusion of control that exists in my mind.

This year, I entered October, determined that this wouldn't happen. I felt like things were going okay. True, exercise hasn't been happening much, but I've been watching what goes into la hatch and THINKING about exercising a lot. My brain hurts from the process, even.

Black Friday found me in Lane Bryant, looking for a dress. Those who know me well, know that shopping is one of my least favorite things. Especially for clothes. A holiday party was around the corner and jeans and my Uggs (okay, fake Uggs) weren't going to cut it. Hope was with me and we both laid eyes on the same dress, at the same time.

"Mom, that is SO cute. You should get it." So I did. My size wasn't on the rack, so the store ordered for me and had it delivered 3 days later. Just a few days before the party. I felt good about the purchase. My jeans were fitting. And like I said, I've been watching what goes into "la hatch."

You can probably already guess how this ends.

The dress arrived. It didn't fit. I was shocked. Granted, it wasn't a very forgiving material - but the reality is, it didn't fit.

To back up 20 steps, going to a "dress up" party is not my thing at all. In fact, it's the opposite of my thing. While I did purchase a ticket to this ladies night out at the Murano, it was to help a friend who really wanted to go. This kind of night, is truly her kind of night.

The ill-fitting (okay, non-fitting) dress sent me to a bad place. I went to Lane Bryant the next day. Numerous phone calls unearthed the fact that my dress wasn't available in larger sizes.

Super.

I pulled five dresses into the fitting room with me. Gross. Too small. Horrible. Too tight. Too low. A last ditch effort found me with a black number that didn't look awful. Lane Bryant thankfully exchanged it at the "black friday price" and off I went. Two sizes greater than I normally wear.

Two. Sizes.

The evening came and went. My friend, whom we all rallied around, came down with a horrific case of the flu and couldn't go. She asked that we all go without her. I wish I had listened to my gut and bagged it. Not so much because of the dress fiasco, but because the only reason I agreed to go, was for her. And she tends to be the glue in those types of situations. The night wasn't horrible and some laughs were had.

Me and the dress? Not pretty. I don't think I have ever felt so uncomfortable in all of my days. One of the girls managed to grab 3 photos of us that evening. To say I didn't want to pose for pics is the understatement of the year. But I did it. They are floating around on facebook right now and I am horrified. Refusing to tag myself.

So what am I going to do about it? Very privately continuing to try. Yesterday, I bonded with my treadmill. I won't lie. Eighteen minutes of jogging was all I could muster. I'm about to bond with it again momentarily. If you've read any of my blogposts, the question is likely looming for you too, "How long will she stick with it this time?"

I don't have the answer to that. But I am so sick of myself I could spit.

One of my dearests friends and most favorite people comes to World Vision every Monday. I'm never there, so I rarely see her. Except for last week. I was there. So was she. She's very tall - 6'1, I think. And has gained a lot of weight over the past few years. Two babies and life struggles can do that to a girl.

I was thrilled to see my girl and SHOCKED to see how thin she was. She did the growth hormone program. And to quote her: "It was the worst 40 days of hell I have ever seen." She's on the "resting" phase. And not sure if she'll pick it up again for the next 40 days stint. What's the trick? The ads say the growth hormone, but she said it's the 500 calorie/day diet. Even with the hormone, she was starving. Crying into the night because she was SO freaking hungry.

The bigger thing it showed her is how enmeshed she is with food - and how broken she was without it.

I'm not sure what all of this means. I know that I have an addictive non-hunger-driven habit of eating what I want and overeating. And a pension to lethargy. These things combined have brought me to larger than life proportions that will not go away without exercise and diet control.

I'm so over this - but that's nothing new. I'm tired of the multiple personalities I seem to exhibit when it comes to diet and exercise. I'm all in or all out. Nothing in between.

For now, only the blogwaves will know my journey and struggle. I'm so sick of talking about exercising - why I do, why I don't, why I eat, why I overeat. For now, I'm just focusing on today. Aiming to make one good choice after another.

Last night, after a very good day, I found myself taking shots of whipped cream before bed. Disgusting, I know. It crossed my mind not to, but I did it anyhow. And THAT is the habit that needs to be broken. Last night, whipped cream. Another night, 2,000 calories of something more disruptive.

Here's to focusing on today. And asking God for help.