Feeling very "fuck it"

"Overzealous eating"  That's what I came out of that doctor's appointment with.  He asked if I had a problem with overzealous eating.  I look around me at the stuff other people consume, and I can comfortably say no, not at all.  

I lost 66 pounds, and it felt good for awhile.  It was the result of very strict crash dieting.  It was not a lifestyle I could at all maintain.  I tried to walk the middle ground for awhile, but for someone my size, there is no middle ground.  There's either "1200 calories a day, tracking every morsel of food that passes my lips, and obsessive exercising" or "fuck it".  Trying to maintain the portion control without logging every bit of food while still exercising...I started gaining weight.  That was discouraging.  It felt very black and white, to me.  Nothing short of extremely drastic dieting would keep that weight off.  One by one, bad habits popped back up.  We started drinking more again.  Then, some of the "NO!" foods eventually worked their way back in.  Then the exercising tapered off.  It's absolutely unrealistic to try and maintain a 1200 calorie diet for life, and that's the only way for me to lose the weight.  

Today's discussion with the doc was discouraging, to say the least.  He's thin, he's always been thin.  He says I have no choice, I have to lose 150 pounds, or else I'll find myself on a battery of meds.  He has no idea, no empathy.  I mean, I tell him the truth.  I still eat properly.  Small portions, very little meat, tons of veggies, lean proteins, legumes.  Not a load of junk food.  I avoid unhealthy snacks and fast food, I eat half portions in restaurants, I try to curb the sweet tooth.  I deny myself a lot of comfort foods, to avoid gaining weight.  I get nowhere.  I left the doctor day, after having blood taken, with a grand "fuck it" attitude.  Why suffer?  Nothing I can do seems to be helping.  Nothing good came of today. Nothing helpful.  No new information, no encouragement, no direction, no motivation.  I don't expect that sort of thing from my doctor, but usually after a weight discussion, I find it in myself.  Hell, that's WHY I eat the way I mentioned.  Every time is some new resolve, like "ok, let me start by cutting my portions in half".  Ever evolving, except for today.  Dead stop.

 I stopped at McDonald's on the way home, for breakfast.  I haven't had a sausage biscuit for breakfast in about 4 years.  It didn't taste that good, and it didn't make me feel better.  I thought, maybe it would make me feel bad and gross enough that I'd feel guilty.  I don't.  Or maybe it would be so delicious, it would at least have some aesthetic value.  It wasn't delicious.