I have gone on a bender.
I was going so well. Happy with the food choices I was making, feeling confident that what I was doing was helping me achieve my goals.
I was disappointed between the scale readings in week 2 and week 3 - only 500 grams down. In truth, three weeks of strong work and only down 2.1 kilos was disappointing me. That is slow progress in my book -and it certainly doesn't keep me on track to be successful in my challenge.
But on Feb 7, I had a sneak preview. And you cannot conceive my horror. I had gone up. It wasn't much in the grand scheme of things. 300 grams. But, I was eating clean and exercising my little heart out. I was even contemplating entering an effing fun run.
If I am doing all this, and I can't expect to lose weight, what is the point?
That was when the first chocolate bar went down my throat. I planned it too. Going to the shop and so on. I was so upset, and then just so angry. Truly angry to be betrayed by my body like that. To put on weight. So, I flipped the birdy and bought a chocolate bar. I didn't even taste it.
The following day, I was even more angry. It didn't matter that the reading for my weigh in day was steady at 89.6kgs - the same number as the week before. I hadn't gone down. My tactics to help me were not helping me. Oh, and no personal training. I cancelled it - by this time I was emotionally all over the place and had a pretty nasty headache.
I remained angry, brooding all day. Three chocolate bars slipped down this time.
Yesterday, anger is still the dominant emotion. I ate out twice - breakfast and lunch. No bread at brekky, and chose sashimi at lunch. In one corner of my mind I am not ready to throw in the towel completely.
But, yesterday I am still struggling. I want to curl up and cry. I want to scream and yell at everyone I meet. And of course, I now think there is no point to the challenge, no point to keep trying. I have screwed this up. And the anger hasn't gone away. Chocolate cake from the cafe at the base of my building. This cake is likely still motivated by anger, by despair that this neutral weekly weigh in has become so big an obstacle. But also prompted by the now insatiable need I have for sugar by 2pm every afternoon.
I am still angry. Last night I couldn't get to sleep, tossing and turning, getting out of bed, thinking over and over and over again about all the things I have and haven't done (work, eating, exercise). I have woken up early. I want to cancel training this morning - anger "What's the point", shame "what have I done?, pride "I don't want to admit this to anyone."
I am still angry. I hopped on the scales. I have put on 1.1kgs. I am up to 90.7kg. I feel fat and bloated. I feel constipated. And I really really really want to eat cereal this morning. and I really, really, really don't want to go to personal training.
I can't understand why I went up in the first place. But I can understand my reaction. I am still devastated, both by going up and by the binge that has followed.
I feel like I have been slapped in the face.
"You don't deserve to lose weight."
I feel like I have been laughed at.
"You think these pathetic attempts will work?"
I feel worthless.
"You deserve to be obese. Your plans will never work. You are kidding yourself. You will never do enough to succeed. You are not good enough to be slim."
My reality now is that in three days I have put on 1.1kilograms.
In other words? I have lost one kilogram over three weeks. And when I think that, I am ready to cry again. I have lost all perspective. But I have lost so much more: self worth, motivation, a sense of progress.
No comments:
Post a Comment