This is the third MN account I've had in ten years and God knows how many name changes over the years. I keep name changing in a bid to avoid getting sucked in to any cliques and matey groups because then it's even harder to detach and get on with anything useful. Before you know it, your whole fucking life revolves around laying on your bed arguing with strangers while drinking too much wine/coffee and eating too many crisps/biscuits and you wake up the following day and wonder why you are still fat and have achieved nothing all week. 
I am constantly struggling with my weight but the truth is that however well I try to eat, nothing much will change while I sit on my great fat blubbery arse for too many hours each day reading MN. And now Reddit too. Like I needed it to be any worse. 😳
Each time I have deleted my account it has resulted in a burst of fabulous, exhilarating, motivational REAL LIFE, all technicolour and fascinating and wonderful. Like waking up from a long coma and realising that the world has moved on without you.
I interact with my DH and my DC more.
I read more books instead of reading the 99,999th dull thread about CFs parking in blue badge spaces.
I do more, I move more, I achieve more. I walk my dog more.
I cook from scratch more because I actually get off my arse and go to the shop in time to buy some fresh ingredients and plan what to cook more than 20 mins before we need it.
I manage to weigh less without having to consciously try so hard. Just by living. Just getting out there and living a bit makes you lose weight. Trust me, it really does.
I feel less sorry for myself.
I have a spring in my step.
I navel gaze and over-think less.
I can actually be arsed to blow dry my hair and leave the house.
I watch some really great box sets and documentaries in the evening and read the paper and do crosswords instead of scrolling and hitting refresh all day and all flipping night.
I sleep better.
I see my friends more.
My house is tidier and more organised.
I certainly care a lot less about what a bunch of (probably inadequate) strangers think of my me or my opinions.
I re-regged most recently for some weight loss advice and support, telling myself that's all I was coming back for. I lied. I was in denial. It worked for a week or two and then I got sucked back in to all the ridiculous time wasting nonsense and thinking it really enhanced my life to be able to tell people what I thought about how they fed their children or washed their towels FFS.
And I am now fatter than ever. My BMI is 32. My hips, my back, my feet and my knees all ache like hell. I lumber around, like an ancient walrus and it's my own stupid fault. I've stopped buying nice clothes because I hardly go out anyway. I've become lazy with my grooming because I look like shit so what's the point.
I procrastinate like fuck, I don't deal with my important chores until everything is overdue and people are hassling me about stuff. I neglect my friends and my responsibilities, and God knows I don't have that many of either, so there is no excuse for not giving them the time they deserve.
I've just been writing in my 'Poor Me Poor Me' weight loss diary where I record how I feel and whinge about my lack of progress and the answer has just hit me squarely between the eyes.
MN is bad for my weight and bad for my health. Bad for my life. I am de-regging again, right this minute and if your life sounds like mine I urge you to do the same.
TODAY IT STOPS.