Well, here we are heading towards the end of January and the situation is much the same as it was when I started my weight loss attempt, months ago. In fact, the situation is much worse. Hence my unwillingness to write here, and my recourse to self-loathing tirades in my head. Not very productive, really.
It's always so incredibly frustrating when I look back on a period of time and think "if I'd actually dieted all this time, I would be at my goal weight by now". My last entry was 29 October. Think how much good I could have done! Instead, I hibernated, avoided the mirror, avoided going out, avoided socialising, and took refuge in ever more frequent binges.
My parents are coming to visit us in a few days and that fills me with absolute panic and dread. My mum is a lovely woman and she means well but her attempts to get me motivated to lose weight are so counterproductive. I don't know if it's even anything she does now, it's just any time she remotely mentions anything to do with my health I freeze up in tension, thinking she's passing judgement on me. She has perfectly good reasons for worrying about my weight, since it's unhealthy, it makes me unhappy, it's a symptom of unhappiness - but I hate it. I would prefer she never mention it, be one of those mums who thinks her daughter is pretty at any size. And maybe she does. But it doesn't feel like it. Every pause, every thought that passes over her face, I think is directed at me. She probably hasn't realised, but she hasn't complimented me since I started gaining weight. No "You look nice" when I'm dressed up. I mean it's true, I really don't look nice any more, but I don't like feeling that way.
My mother has always been trying to lose weight. She did pretty well a few years ago, and is now slimmer than me, which is hard for me to adjust to! I wish she hadn't always commented on how she fat she was though, or what food was good and bad for you. I know nutrition is an important thing to teach kids, but I feel like I knew far too much about what foods were "fattening" when I started high school than I really needed to. I tried to lose weight all through high school too, even though I didn't need to. My mum would try to help me do it, since she knew that I felt bad about myself. I did have a different figure to my friends - curvier and less hard and skinny - but I wasn't fat. I wasn't overweight. I was perfectly healthy. I wish sometimes she had tried to convince me not to lose weight, instead of trying to help me do it. Even though she meant well.
My sister was also obsessed with weight. Still is to an extent, but she is healthy now - I think she has a pretty good relationship with food, and she exercises a lot. My sister was much smaller than me. But she has a tiny frame. I was never going to be her size. Why didn't someone tell me that more often? During her early years of university, when I was in my mid teens, my sister would diet and exercise obsessively throughout the week, then on Sunday, she'd take me out to buy "Sunday night food" - ice-cream, whole tubes of cookie dough, chocolate - and eat them all. I did the same - even though I wasn't doing the compensatory dieting and exercising during the week! My mum commented to me that it was weird. But we didn't really talk more about it than that. I kept doing it. But on my own. And more regularly.
I feel like I am acting like a child, eating "bad foods" secretly and in huge amounts because I am thrilled that I have this free time, my own money, the freedom to eat what I want with no-one watching. When will I realise that there is no one else responsible for my eating? It's just me. I have to make the right choices. No-one's going to tell me what to do any more.
So my parents are visiting, and I have no clothes that fit. Peridot, I sympathise so very much with your situation. The feeling of wearing ugly, frumpy, clothes because nothing else will get on, or nothing else looks halfway decent. My parents are visiting, and, knowing I am trying to diet for the wedding, will expect me to have lost weight. Or at least to be the same I was last July. And yet, I am bigger than ever. I don't want to meet them at the airport. I don't want to see their faces.
One thing I have done, which I really should follow up, is go to the doctor and ask for a referral to a psychologist. I even mentioned my eating problems, which was a big step. I have the psychologists number. But I haven't called. I should. Tomorrow. I will.
Wednesday, 20 January 2010
Thursday, 29 October 2009
Off the rails, and out of my mind
It has not been a good period for me.
Since the last post, rather than get back on track as I said I would, I got steadily worse. I went over my points. I didn't plan. I started to binge with increasing frequency.
This week I have been home alone while my fiance is away on business. Being alone has never been good for my eating habits.
I binged like I have never binged before. For days straight. I am ashamed to even write it down on an anonymous blog that noone reads. I can't bring myself to do it.
Even more than the fact that I'm bingeing again, more than the fact that I will have put on weight and be back to my starting weight (at least, I am expecting about 2kgs above that to be honest), I have been disturbed by the sheer craziness of my behaviour. It's so unnatural. I don't want to do it. I know I don't, and even as I take the ice-cream out of the freezer, even before I've bought it, I know I don't want to do it. I act like an automaton. What on earth possesses me to go out and buy vast amounts of junk, and binge on it, all the while having a sick feeling of dread in my heart that I am going to hate myself for it, that it will make me miserable, that I wish I could stop?
In desperation tonight I went online and bought a couple of books to add to my stash of 'final solution' diet books. I bought one on binge eating written by a psychiatrist, and one on techniques to stop overeating. Browsing through the titles made me panicky. There were so many choices, I was so anxious to get the right one. But there isn't one really, is there. No magic bullet. When these books arrive I will tear off the packaging, devour them earnestly, and they will probably make little difference.
I haven't been to weight watchers in 3 weeks. I am so scared to go back. So ashamed. I can't imagine how embarrassed I'll be when I get on the scales and the leader sees I weigh more than I did when I started.
God, I am so ready for this to stop.
Since the last post, rather than get back on track as I said I would, I got steadily worse. I went over my points. I didn't plan. I started to binge with increasing frequency.
This week I have been home alone while my fiance is away on business. Being alone has never been good for my eating habits.
I binged like I have never binged before. For days straight. I am ashamed to even write it down on an anonymous blog that noone reads. I can't bring myself to do it.
Even more than the fact that I'm bingeing again, more than the fact that I will have put on weight and be back to my starting weight (at least, I am expecting about 2kgs above that to be honest), I have been disturbed by the sheer craziness of my behaviour. It's so unnatural. I don't want to do it. I know I don't, and even as I take the ice-cream out of the freezer, even before I've bought it, I know I don't want to do it. I act like an automaton. What on earth possesses me to go out and buy vast amounts of junk, and binge on it, all the while having a sick feeling of dread in my heart that I am going to hate myself for it, that it will make me miserable, that I wish I could stop?
In desperation tonight I went online and bought a couple of books to add to my stash of 'final solution' diet books. I bought one on binge eating written by a psychiatrist, and one on techniques to stop overeating. Browsing through the titles made me panicky. There were so many choices, I was so anxious to get the right one. But there isn't one really, is there. No magic bullet. When these books arrive I will tear off the packaging, devour them earnestly, and they will probably make little difference.
I haven't been to weight watchers in 3 weeks. I am so scared to go back. So ashamed. I can't imagine how embarrassed I'll be when I get on the scales and the leader sees I weigh more than I did when I started.
God, I am so ready for this to stop.
Friday, 9 October 2009
Bugger!
Well, right before the supposedly habit forming 3 weeks were up, I slipped and had a binge in a major way. I don't even really know why... perhaps somewhat hormonal, perhaps not. On Thursday night I went out to dinner with a few people and went over my points - not significantly (in retrospect), given that it was still within counting range! However, perhaps that feeling of disappointment, combined with a sense of helplessness about being unable to know just how many points I consume when eating out, led me to feel totally out of control the next day. It was compounded by knowing I had to go out that night again, and would have very limited options reL dinner - our friends were determined to have horribly greasy takeway. I tried valiantly, at first. I tracked the extra little snacks I had to keep me accountable, I had cups of tea to distract myself, I sat and had a proper meal, I looked for alternatives.. but by 1pm I had already eaten more than half my points for the day.
Sitting in class later on, I was overwhelmed with a desire for cheesecake. Great slabs of it, with that sweet, tart, creamy topping on crunchy buttery base... I thought about this nearly constantly for 3 hours straight. On the way home (I did make myself walk, at least) I decided to go to the supermarket and buy one. Not a slice from a cafe, not a small portion from our deli, but a whole, frozen, sara lee cheesecake. I made this decision quite consciously, and had 25 minutes of walking time to change my mind, but didn't. I cut the cheesecake in half, and sat down with 2 vast wedges in a bowl. Shovelled some in my mouth, then quickly rushed to put it in the microwave since it wasn't defrosting fast enough. I thought briefly about throwing the other half out, but didn't. I ate my first portion, then put the rest of the cake in the bowl. About halfway through that, I realised I was feeling physically sick, and finally, belatedly through away the few remaining dregs.
You'd think that would be enough, but I then proceeded to mindlessly eat 2 bread rolls and about 5 string cheese portions.
Ironically, after my binge seemed to have subsided, I got a call from my friend - the night was cancelled. No greasy takeaway after all.
Of course, this was my cue to order pizza for dinner for myself anyway.
SO, what could I have done differently, apart from the obvious? At the moment, my feeling is I have to be more ready to just accept difficult situations when I am going to go over my points, and just enjoy them. I certainly ate a hell of a lot more than I would have just by eating a bit of takeaway at a friend's house. Secondly, sometimes I should just have what I want, when I really want it. I thought about cheesecake for 3 hours for goodness sakes! I could easily have stopped at a cafe on the way home that makes good (and even so-called "low fat") cheesecake, ordered a slice, and really sat down and enjoyed it with a coffee. I feel like I am totally unable to incorporate treats into everyday life. I can't remember the last time I had some chocolate or ice-cream or dessert as part of a normal day of eating. Either I eat the whole fucking thing and then start throwing in the kitchen sink, or I totally avoid anything sugary and treat-related at all.
Sigh. I am certainly not expecting a loss this week. I am trying to consider it a lesson. I am trying to just keep on keeping on. It's hard.
Sitting in class later on, I was overwhelmed with a desire for cheesecake. Great slabs of it, with that sweet, tart, creamy topping on crunchy buttery base... I thought about this nearly constantly for 3 hours straight. On the way home (I did make myself walk, at least) I decided to go to the supermarket and buy one. Not a slice from a cafe, not a small portion from our deli, but a whole, frozen, sara lee cheesecake. I made this decision quite consciously, and had 25 minutes of walking time to change my mind, but didn't. I cut the cheesecake in half, and sat down with 2 vast wedges in a bowl. Shovelled some in my mouth, then quickly rushed to put it in the microwave since it wasn't defrosting fast enough. I thought briefly about throwing the other half out, but didn't. I ate my first portion, then put the rest of the cake in the bowl. About halfway through that, I realised I was feeling physically sick, and finally, belatedly through away the few remaining dregs.
You'd think that would be enough, but I then proceeded to mindlessly eat 2 bread rolls and about 5 string cheese portions.
Ironically, after my binge seemed to have subsided, I got a call from my friend - the night was cancelled. No greasy takeaway after all.
Of course, this was my cue to order pizza for dinner for myself anyway.
SO, what could I have done differently, apart from the obvious? At the moment, my feeling is I have to be more ready to just accept difficult situations when I am going to go over my points, and just enjoy them. I certainly ate a hell of a lot more than I would have just by eating a bit of takeaway at a friend's house. Secondly, sometimes I should just have what I want, when I really want it. I thought about cheesecake for 3 hours for goodness sakes! I could easily have stopped at a cafe on the way home that makes good (and even so-called "low fat") cheesecake, ordered a slice, and really sat down and enjoyed it with a coffee. I feel like I am totally unable to incorporate treats into everyday life. I can't remember the last time I had some chocolate or ice-cream or dessert as part of a normal day of eating. Either I eat the whole fucking thing and then start throwing in the kitchen sink, or I totally avoid anything sugary and treat-related at all.
Sigh. I am certainly not expecting a loss this week. I am trying to consider it a lesson. I am trying to just keep on keeping on. It's hard.
Monday, 28 September 2009
Success!
I had my first weigh-in at Weight Watchers today: a loss of 2.6kgs! Thank fucking christ. I was a little bit worried because I hadn't done a whole lot of exercise the previous week (hardly any really) and didn't track too exactly on the weekend. But hurrah for me, I say.
When the alarm went off this morning I considered staying in bed so I could slink out and straight to WW having not consumed anything, thereby posting a good loss. But I realised this was NOT the correct attitude and I was trying to change my whole lifestyle, not just see the number change on the scale. So I got up, went for a run, had a good breakfast and coffee and felt pretty damn good because of it.
I remember once a few of my friends were chatting about eating habits, and saying how because growing up, their mothers had always told them to snack on fruit, that's what they always did now. They would hardly ever have an icecream or chocolate for a treat, because they hardly ever did as kids. Well, my mother always told me to snack on fruit too, but fat lot of good that did me. As soon as I reached adulthood I went crazy with the freedom to choose my own foods. A couple of months ago I went through a Magnum ice-cream phase where I was eating about 3 or 4 a day. How many points in those things, like 10? Jeebus.
Another thought: having lunch with some friends once, and one ordered a salad for her main meal. "That's a pretty abstemious lunch you're having, K" one remarked. K replied that she hadn't done much exercise that week, so something had to give. Sensible indeed. When will I be able to get to that state of mind? That's how I want to live my life.
When the alarm went off this morning I considered staying in bed so I could slink out and straight to WW having not consumed anything, thereby posting a good loss. But I realised this was NOT the correct attitude and I was trying to change my whole lifestyle, not just see the number change on the scale. So I got up, went for a run, had a good breakfast and coffee and felt pretty damn good because of it.
I remember once a few of my friends were chatting about eating habits, and saying how because growing up, their mothers had always told them to snack on fruit, that's what they always did now. They would hardly ever have an icecream or chocolate for a treat, because they hardly ever did as kids. Well, my mother always told me to snack on fruit too, but fat lot of good that did me. As soon as I reached adulthood I went crazy with the freedom to choose my own foods. A couple of months ago I went through a Magnum ice-cream phase where I was eating about 3 or 4 a day. How many points in those things, like 10? Jeebus.
Another thought: having lunch with some friends once, and one ordered a salad for her main meal. "That's a pretty abstemious lunch you're having, K" one remarked. K replied that she hadn't done much exercise that week, so something had to give. Sensible indeed. When will I be able to get to that state of mind? That's how I want to live my life.
Tuesday, 22 September 2009
In the Beginning...
Yes, it's another fat blog.
I am planning to post on here my thoughts, notes, musings, failures (of which I hope there will be few) and triumphs (of which I hope there will be many).
I am 26 years old, 165cm tall, and 85 kilos - in other words, obese. I haven't always been obese (although I have usually thought or felt I am, but that's another story). Towards the end of university, around the time I met my now fiance (5 years ago) I started packing on the pounds. Slowly but surely, from a combination of simple lifestyle change, happiness (I'm in love! Let's eat out! He loves me for me!), and, ironically, depression (I'm worthless! I have no future! There's no point!) the number on the scales crept upwards. I was shocked a couple of years ago to see I weighed 71kgs, and vowed to do something about it. Clearly, that one didn't work out.
A bad bout of depression, a trip through Italy, 6 months living in Northern Europe, and then a period of unemployment in a new city cemented the deal, leaving me 25kgs heavier than I was 5 years ago. Over the past year I have yo-yoed, losing 7 kilos, then putting it back on again. My relationship with food has grown so unhealthy what I previously thought of as a binge looks like a normal eating day by comparison. I finally joined Weight Watchers 2 days ago. 2 days before that, I was spending my days eating 5-6 ice-creams (or a whole family size tub), a whole cake, and a whole pizza and then hiding the evidence in the rubbish before my fiance came home.
Nevermore, quoth the raven, nevermore.
I have tried to lose weight countless, countless times, often thinking "This is it! This is the time it's going to work!" before coming crashing down again. I always thought my wedding would be motivation enough, but I have been engaged for 3 months and actually put on weight. But I am hopeful this will work, finally. First of all, I am going to WW meetings. Secondly, I am going to address the emotional/psychological issues. Thirdly, I hope this blog will provide something of an outlet, and a useful reminder of the changes I am trying to make.
So, to kick things off, I have decided to create a list. I adore lists- I am not very organised, and usually forget or throw away my lists before accomplishing them, but I love the process. Hence:
Reasons to Lose Weight
Wow. I started this blog on a whim, and can't believe how much I want to write. But perhaps this is enough for one day. I should go and do some exercise... sadly, writing and thinking about weight loss isn't a substitute for action- if it were, I would be dangerously underweight by now.
I am planning to post on here my thoughts, notes, musings, failures (of which I hope there will be few) and triumphs (of which I hope there will be many).
I am 26 years old, 165cm tall, and 85 kilos - in other words, obese. I haven't always been obese (although I have usually thought or felt I am, but that's another story). Towards the end of university, around the time I met my now fiance (5 years ago) I started packing on the pounds. Slowly but surely, from a combination of simple lifestyle change, happiness (I'm in love! Let's eat out! He loves me for me!), and, ironically, depression (I'm worthless! I have no future! There's no point!) the number on the scales crept upwards. I was shocked a couple of years ago to see I weighed 71kgs, and vowed to do something about it. Clearly, that one didn't work out.
A bad bout of depression, a trip through Italy, 6 months living in Northern Europe, and then a period of unemployment in a new city cemented the deal, leaving me 25kgs heavier than I was 5 years ago. Over the past year I have yo-yoed, losing 7 kilos, then putting it back on again. My relationship with food has grown so unhealthy what I previously thought of as a binge looks like a normal eating day by comparison. I finally joined Weight Watchers 2 days ago. 2 days before that, I was spending my days eating 5-6 ice-creams (or a whole family size tub), a whole cake, and a whole pizza and then hiding the evidence in the rubbish before my fiance came home.
Nevermore, quoth the raven, nevermore.
I have tried to lose weight countless, countless times, often thinking "This is it! This is the time it's going to work!" before coming crashing down again. I always thought my wedding would be motivation enough, but I have been engaged for 3 months and actually put on weight. But I am hopeful this will work, finally. First of all, I am going to WW meetings. Secondly, I am going to address the emotional/psychological issues. Thirdly, I hope this blog will provide something of an outlet, and a useful reminder of the changes I am trying to make.
So, to kick things off, I have decided to create a list. I adore lists- I am not very organised, and usually forget or throw away my lists before accomplishing them, but I love the process. Hence:
Reasons to Lose Weight
- Health. I am putting myself at risk for all kinds of horrors, like diabetes and heart disease (which runs in my family). And even at the moment, I can see the effects of my weight- I have less energy, physical tasks are harder, and I have horrible acid reflux. I want to be around for a long life with my fiance, I want to have kids.
- Appearance. I know it's not supposed to be the main motivating factor, but the fact is, I look rubbish at this weight. I am lumpy and doughy, my clothes don't fit or flatter (can you really flatter bulbous arms or cascading rolls of tummy fat?) and I literally can't think of a single thing in my wardrobe I like wearing.
- Self esteem and mood. This is tied to appearance, obviously, but the lack of control I have over food is depressing and would be even if I were a normal weight. Eating cr@p makes me feel awful, mentally as well as physically.
- I can keep eating obscene amounts of cr@p.
Wow. I started this blog on a whim, and can't believe how much I want to write. But perhaps this is enough for one day. I should go and do some exercise... sadly, writing and thinking about weight loss isn't a substitute for action- if it were, I would be dangerously underweight by now.
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