I'm having a very difficult day. Not only am I stuck pretty much sitting around (thank you messed up core muscles!) but I'm depressed. I am depressed about losing about 40 pounds and not even looking like it. I'm depressed that I don't need new clothes yet.

I'm regressing from the accident. I keep thinking about the what-ifs. What if my daughter had been in the truck with me? She would have been crushed behind my seat. What if she would have died? It's a morbid thought, but it's plaguing me today.

Have I been the kind of parent to my kids that I'd want to have? No way! I'm fat, I'm not the most exciting, fun, engaging parent in the world. Had she or my son passed away that day, I think I would have felt extreme guilt for always being the fat mom, not the fun energetic mom.

I do have to give myself credit in that I love my children a lot. I tell them, I hug them, and I show them. Each kid is different. One loves hugs and kisses, and the other needs to be shown in different ways. I can only pray that if anything were to happen to either of them, they would know I love them and even though I fight my own demons with weight, they have always been my loves.

I am losing weight for them. For me. For my husband. For my future grandkids. I want to enjoy my life and I hope I can soon. This diet is for all these reasons. I get down and wish things were different, that I could be one of those women who never put on weight or who get up at 6am and jog everyday to keep healthy. Maybe someday I will be that mom, but for today, I hug my kiddos and just tell them how much I love them. It's all I can do, and I hope it's enough.

This is a very tough road to travel.