That is how I felt for some years after I lost my weight. Like it was lurking, just waiting and watching for my inevitable weakness. I went up and down, sometimes as much as 60 lbs depending on life events such as grieving,(This was the 60lb up) surgeries (down), and just not caring (up and down). Because I am diabetic, it is always there to smack me in the face if my weight goes up. Also, I have a handy upper right quadrant hernia that only gives me problems if I gain. Kind of like a turkey timer! lol!

So after years of hard lessons and a deep desire to live life free from feeling controlled by food, I finally crossed over in to a place where it no longer has any hold on me. I wouldn't even call it will power. I just don't care about food all that much and consider junk food the same as I would any other toxic thing I choose not to partake in. I can fluctuate some but I either cut back or use my beloved Cambridge to get a good cleaning out. It's a non-issue for me now.

My dear Mother passed away at the age of 62 from obesity and heart failure after many years of hypertension and doing nothing to fight it other then occasional efforts at Weight Watchers. I'm turning 60 this next b-day and even though I inherited my Mother's health profile, I plan to go at least another 25 years.

So my suggestion is to not necessarily accept that a person is forever vulnerable to relapse, or to look at it as I used to, almost as a living entity wanting to destroy me. I found that I could recover and emerge in to a different place that's a lot more peaceful to live in. This is my hope for us all.