A bad day

**Usually I write in a very controlled way. I write on my good days, and although I access sadness and badness and evil, I do it in a way that I can manage easily without things getting out of control. Yesterday things were out of control. I was having a bad day and a bad moment of despair and crying into my pillow and thoughts just exploding all over the room and I thought, you know what? I need to write this down. If I can’t write down the darkness and disorganised-ness what am I really showing you of the “real” diseased me? So this is raw and I apologise if it’s too much of anything. By the time I am writing this, things have been sorted out and we’re back on track. There’s still the diet thing, I’ll get to that another day, but for now here is the thoughts as they spilled out of my head in my crying despair**

Stayingquiet

I’m the Monster. The one under your bed. The one that jumps out and scares small children and large adults alike. The obese monster, morbidly obese by the books. The one who side on, at a glance, could be confused with a large tree trunk or concrete pylon! Who has been asked TWICE this week if she’s too far into her pregnancy to fly! And another two times in that same week if she’s pregnant, once before a massage and once before a dress fitting. Cos that’s relaxing!

I’m the Destroyer. I start with memory foam beds and crush the memory and the foam out of them. I move onto brand new leather couches and triple my husband’s imprint in the first 3 months. Time to change sides! Then I grind the life out of said husband until he doesn’t care, or hurts so much from caring that he leaves. Well that’s my mental image of how this goes, in any case, and I’ve had a couple physical images to assist with the mental image; that’s the extent of his distress.

I break laptops, drop mobile phones, spill anything remotely liquid, trip over power cords ruining plug connections, slip down inclines, fall over pebbles, draw ink on bedspreads, stretch clothes in the wash,  wrench roof racks and bikes off the car roof bending the metal and stripping paint off bikes and car alike!

I’m fat, so fat, so very very fat and it’s ruining everything. I’m told. It’s hard to see from the inside. I’m ruining my marriage by being fat. I lost my job from the consequences of being fat. I’m slow, I’m too slow, I need to lose weight, I need to speed up, I need to change, change, change change, stop being me, be someone else. Someone not fat and not slow who isn’t ruining everything.

My husband is fed up. And why wouldn’t he be? 3 years of me being sick, 16months of being off work before, 9 months in a job and here we are, back at the beginning. And if I just lost weight it would fix everything. I wouldn’t be ruining the couch, wrecking the bed, sitting at home doing nothing. If only I would lose weight. Because it’s difficult for him, me being fat. Every day it’s hard for him, me being fat, he tells me. It’s hard on him. I’m fat and it’s hard. He says we can’t do things, be things because of it. It’s fair for him to ask me to lose weight, because he has to deal with it too. And me not losing weight makes him think I’m not trying, I’m not trying for us. Can’t I do it for him? Can’t I lose weight for him? If I won’t do it for myself. It’s been 6 weeks. 6 weeks since I saw the dietician and starting a food diary. And I haven’t lose any weight. Why? Because I’ve been snacking. Why? Because I eat in emotional situations. So instead I’m meant to be dealing with my emotion. Here you are, here is my emotion. I’m dealing with it.

thunder inside

I hate to cry. Crying is weak. I know, I know; I shouldn’t say that. Especially me, advocating for mental health. But to me it’s weak, I hate it, and I avoid it. But here it comes, crying, because of my diet. If I cry, I don’t store and if I don’t store, I don’t eat because of the store. Apparently. So I’ve cried twice since starting my diet.

I want to see that you’re putting in an effort. But you won’t see it; change is gradual and you don’t see weight loss for a while, a good long while. So what do you want to see? It’s such a lot of pressure, proving something. Proving you did, defending that you didn’t; proof. I’m trying. But I want to see that you’re trying. Well I am trying. Well how can I see that you’re trying? It goes round and round.

And now, one in the bed and the other one said I can’t stand this anymore. Is it cold? How cold? Who cares, I’m storming out. And I’m crying my tears because I have to put in an effort and one can’t bear it and the other can’t wear it, and it’s a mess. Royally a mess. What to a fix? I promise sincerely I will truly really do what I’m told, and I will make the numbers go down, and I will make them keep going down. And then we will live happily ever after because I’ll be able to energetically walk everywhere that I’m asked to walk, and I’ll enjoy physical activity and my fatness won’t slow me down and make me sluggish and I’ll be fixed. And if my condition and cures continue to prevent that from ever being realized? Well at least I’ll be skinny. Life is better when you’re skinny. Time for my daily walk and my diet jelly. Adieu.

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“Are you…?”

Today it happened.

Someone patted my stomach, raised their eyebrows, smiled suggestively and asked, “so, are you…?”

“Oh no”, I laughed, “it’s all fat”.

“Oh, too bad, I had my fingers crossed”.

Well it is too bad, too bad that I give the impression of a fairly pregnant lady! My husband told me so last week, and I know it. I’ve known it for a while.

In my life up until a few years ago any weight I put on was fairly evenly distributed over my body so that I never got the fat belly look, but maybe I’ve filled up all the other spaces because now it seems to go onto my belly really easily!

As a kid I could always eat as much as I liked and not put on weight. As a teenager and adult it took me a while to work out that this system no longer worked!

I’ve put on a lot of weight over the last while. There’s a few factors to blame but of course at the end of the day the only real cause to be found is food entering the body in excessive quantities. Something that I’m good at!

I love food. I’ve always loved food. I love looking at food, touching food, eating food. I love buying food, cooking food and I sometimes dream about food! I am a food person. A foodie.

I’ve always been this way, apparently right back to when I was a toddler and was easy to feed because I just liked food. As a little prep student, when the other kids were ordering 2 or 3 party pies for lunch on lunch order days (Mondays and Thursdays) I would order two full size pies and eat the lot.

But it’s more than just liking to eat and liking food.

I have a bit of a ‘thing’ about food. When we were little there was no “junk food” in our house. No lollies, chips, soft drinks, salty sugary high energy low nutrition lovely tasty food. We would have takeaway sometimes, KFC, charcoal chicken, fish and chips on a Friday night. I loved takeaway nights and hoed right in with gusto! Had to make the most of it.

We would go to the local agricultural show every year and get a show bag, the “quality” Search and Rescue for-a-good-cause type not the junky ones with lots of lollies. Still they had a few lollies and usually a Whiz Fizz. I would go home and immediately eat everything out of my bag til it was all gone.

I remember a school friend’s 7th birthday party clearly. There were Cheezels, chips, snakes and sausage rolls. I always got right in close by the table and ate as much as I could; you never know when you’re going to see Cheezels and snakes again! So I would eat mouthful after mouthful enjoying the luxury treats. Then a game was organised and everyone ran off to the next room to start it; but I stayed to cram in a few more mouthfuls so I made the most of it!

I  remember eating calf milk powder because it tasted like skim milk powder. I would take a cup full into the garden and eat it dry by the teaspoon, so it would form thick slabs on the roof of my mouth.

Then there’s my Uncle’s 30th birthday. Instead of hanging out with my cousins I hung out by the table glorying in the rare and amazing foods: cheese, fruits, lollies, chips, and one fabulous honeycomb! I stayed and ate and ate and ate. That night we drove back to the hotel where we were staying and on the way I started to have stomach pains. Stabbing, burning, hard hot pains. I had gorged myself til my stomach was literally stretching to bursting point! I rolled in agony for a couple of hours before enough food passed out of my belly to release the pressure and ease the pain. Not a great moment.

I remember stealing sweets at home on the occasion that they made in into the house. The art of finding the hidden stash, removing some of the loot and rearranging the rest of the food (dehydrated apples or apricots, fruit cakes, fruit chew bars, chocolate etc) to look as though nothing has been removed.

I remember eating frozen pastry sheets, sneaking cups of ice cream after work and eating them with a teaspoon; I loved teaspoons! Making soy and sweet chilli stir fries after work. Eating cups of cranberries and white choc chips.

Next vivid food memory: moving out of home. Getting my licence, a car and living a couple of minutes from the local supermarket. A quick drive, park and browse. I had my own money from scholarships and school holiday work and a whole supermarket. I developed some favourites and tried some new things. Twiggy sticks, brie, Shapes, Cadbury chocolate, sour straps, other lollies, chocolates, chips and drinks. And I could buy what I liked! No rules! No forbidden food. I could just go nuts!!

One favourite was Cadbury’s Peppermint Chip flavour, sadly no longer available. A fabulous combination of milky sweet chocolate with the crisp menthol tang in crunchy mini-chips. Ahhh. I would smuggle these past my chef of a Grandma and eat them in secret seclusion in my room where no one knew and no one could tell me no. Then, when tea was announced, I of course was already full but made myself eat the meal so I wouldn’t have to tell anyone that I’d already eaten, and also as a punishment for eating “naughty” food. A weird system.

So it’s been a battle of the “junk food” ever since. I read this week that 1 million Australians have an eating disorder. And I don’t think it’s only anorexia and bulimia; I think there are many over-eating disorders as well. But over-eating disorders are easily blamed on a person, calling them lazy or greedy. I’m not saying that I have an eating disorder, but I do have a certain amount of disordered thinking and eating  about food.

So that’s one factor, kind of a big one.

Second: anxiety/depression/bipolar. Lack of motivation, feeling down, feeling strung out, no energy, unable to enjoy anything. Comfort eating, eating to get energy, binge eating so that my body feels as bad as my mind, eating to enjoy at least one thing when I can’t get enjoyment out of anything. Many reasons and combined with absolutely no motivation to improve myself or keep fit at the time, make a fateful combination. Plus boredom eating.

So here I am.

9 months after I finished a 10kg weight loss over 12 months to get down to 76.7kg, my lowest weight since high school, I have put on 16kg!! I have a weekly weigh-in which is a non-negotiable thing; the theory being that at least I keep track of my weight. Yeah, that’s working! But it all happened pretty fast, with the binge eating, the medicines and the sitting/laying around the house.

So my current weight is 93.2kg. The heaviest I’ve ever been. Actually, not true – the heaviest I’ve ever been was last week, 93.75kg. Yes, I have lost 500g over the last week. It’s a good start. And I’m determined: right now I have energy, motiviation, I can get up in the morning and so it’s on!! Watching my food and exercising, here we go!!

I’ve always loved using the MyFitnessPal calorie counter. It used to work really well for me. It was a challenge, and I loved it. But now, as soon as I see the calories go into the red I just bust and go nuts! It’s not giving me the right psychology right now.

I used to love training myself. I did a three month Madison magazine fitness program where I watched my food, did 3 couch-to-5km training sessions per week, 3 strength training exercises per week and 3 stretch sessions per week. I lost weight, learned to jog and run and it was awesome. But now I just don’t have the motivation and energy. So now I need the gym – and I have an awesome trainer and a great bunch of girls at Urban Fitness doing the fab Fit Chicks program. I’ve just gotta get myself up and going and get there and it’s all on!

Third: medication. Both my antidepressant and mood stabilisers change my hunger sensors so that half an hour after a meal I can be salivating and my stomach can be rumbling even though I KNOW that I’m not hungry. Annoying, but something I can manage if I have the motivation and mental energy. Which I do now, but didn’t before.

So despite being confused for being halfway through a pregnancy, I’m pretty positive. In fact, I’m gunna go hit the gym now!! I’m psyched, I’m pumped and I love it!! I feel like a regular girl 🙂 I feel like I’m back to my old self 🙂 It’s awesome!!