Down but not out

Thanks for the support.  Bloody dieting, why isn't it as easy as the women's mags would have you believe?  You know, you stop eating McDonalds for breakfast and lunch and a huge takeaway for supper and give up your daily bars of chocolate and crisps and hey presto, a mere few months later you're a grinning size 10.  Hmm.

Clearly that is not and never has been me.  I eat pretty frugally and get miserly results - if anything.  But given that the option is to carry on carrying on or to eat everything in sight and end up as a Channel 4 documentary narrated by a dour Geordie, carrying on it is.

Not that I've weighed myself recently, nor can I feel any discernable change in my clothes.  In fact I went shopping for a dress to wear to a friend's wedding in a couple of weeks and couldn't find a dress in Coast to fit me.  It was not a nice experience as I'd seen one I'd entertained vague hopes for and I could not find the heart to try anywhere else - I slunk home feeling very sorry for myself.  And what's even more annoying is that I have the savagely sized Vivien of Holloway one which would be perfect but is now too small.  I'm starting to get very nervous about finding suitable clothes for the liner.  I keep counting up on my fingers how many weeks and wondering how much I could lose.  Which is absurd as I don't think I'm achieving anything at the moment.  But you know how it goes as you bargin with the god of maths (who is in collusion with the god of diets).

Still, as that irritating little man said (loftily), there are rules of physics and several studies which show that if I'm doing what I said I am, I must therefore lose weight.  Grrrr.

Funnily enough, I am worried I eat too much on my non-starve days so that's a place to cut down (Seren, I know you sweetly suggested the contrary).  I'm still being exemplary on starve days - hold the gold star, just give me some lardage off please.  I do use fitness pal so I know absolutely that I come in under the 500 calorie mark on starve days.  I try to do 3 of these a week but occasionally it's 2.  Today P asked me not to do a starve day as I'm ill - if ever there were a get out of jail card!  I appreciate his concern but it's starve all the way today.  I can't afford any wavering or deviation if I'm to fully enjoy my honeymoon.  Okay, realistically I know that I'll still be - and feel - fat but I'd like at least to fit into the few dresses I have rather than running round like a lunatic at the last minute and buying stuff I hate and that makes me feel bad.  It's a loose plan.  It's the best I can do at the moment.

Fat and fiction

I’m tired.  Tired of being fat.  Tired of putting in this level of effort and feeling like I’ve been punched every time I get on the scales.  Tired of worrying about social occasions which should be fun but seem traumatic because I cannot work out how to look nice, what to buy and wear.  Tired of shopping trips where having to look at myself in the mirror makes me wince and leaves me demoralised.  Tired of not getting the most out of life because I’m perpetually dieting or worrying about dieting (usually both).
 
I put on two stone from mid November to post Christmas.  Since then I’ve been dieting hard.  Last time I weighed myself I had lost 2lbs – it was over a 10 day period but I was encouraged.  Until I weighed myself this morning after another 10 days and found I’d put 1.5lbs of that back on.  I’ve not been this fat for ages; nothing fits and I absolutely hate myself.  I was uncomfortable and self-conscious 2 stone lighter but now it’s almost unbearable.  And it feels like there’s nothing I can do.
 
I was initially quite pleased that I was going to see my metabolic specialist this morning.  He’s lovely and I thought at the very least, I could find out whether he thought this intermittent fasting was likely to be a good thing.  I’ve worked on the premise that it keeps my rotten metabolism guessing – and since that’s what we have agreed the problem is, it ought to work for me.
 
But he wasn’t there; instead I saw one of his colleagues.  I’m sure he was a nice man but he had no empathy at all and left me feeling absolutely wretched.  Essentially he told me that there was nothing wrong with my metabolism, in fact fat people’s metabolisms were higher (I know this is the norm, I am not that norm).  He told me that “the laws of physics” meant that if I dieted I would lose weight.  He suggested that I am either lying about what I eat or eating without knowing (presumably in my sleep).  I know this is wrong but it makes me feel belittled.  He suggested a few things, all of which I’ve tried in the past with no success.  I can’t realistically see why I’d get a different outcome from the same set of circumstances.  But he thought intermittent fasting was quite a good idea.  So that’s something I suppose.  He’s also suggested Orlistat – again, I’ve tried this (with unpleasant side effects) and it didn’t do anything.  I wanted to leave and go home, get into bed, pull the covers over my head and cry.  Instead I came into work like a good girl (I’m SO tired of that too) and am trying not to cry here.  I also wanted to eat – out of misery and fury – but I’m on a starve day and am sticking to it.
 
My overwhelming feeling – apart from tiredness – is fear.  I know I cannot be happy looking like this; I can’t be happy fat – but if I can’t be slimish, does that mean I can never be happy?  I don’t think I can.

The 500

I have had three very successful (and tough) stave days this week and two moderate days - so a big tick for me.  Now just the slightly more hedonistic weekend days to come - hurrah!

I've done some more research and it seems to be recommended to leave a longer period of fasting - I've decided to go from dinner on a normal day to lunch the following day and then both lunch and dinner (and anything else) needs to add up to no more than 500 calories.  It's no picnic.  Because no self-respecting picnic would come in on so few calories.  And, dear Reader, because it's not a great deal of fun.  But it's bearable and do-able and if I can add succcessful to that, I will be content and stoic.  I kind of feel it ought to work since it operates by tricking my metabolism into perpetual uncertainty.  Let's face it: my metabolism is my enemy.  If it weren't so slothful I would say it's tricksy

Of course the proof of the virtual pudding is in the er, weighing.  No, I've not done that yet.  I keep trying to convince myself that my clothes feel looser.  Not well-fitting, or - nirvana - loose but maybe looser.  Maybe.  I really need to brave SoD tomorrow.

It's been a long week workwise too.  A lot of work and not enough time to do it in.  And that second interview - in which I still didn't determine whether I want the job or not.  Still, that may not be a decision I have to make!