So much for my resolution to post twice a week. This week and next are likely to be one-post weeks - because we're going away! A long weekend in Yorkshire beckons. Great news for everything except my diet.
I decided to weigh today - rather than tomorrow which would have been a week - because I was visiting a friend and new baby today and I knew there would be cake. With the exception of two (delicious) cocktails I have had a sensible - verging on austere - week and I didn't want the cake to marr that. 2lbs off. That's pretty damn decent for me. And it's not the first week (when I didn't weigh) so hopefully it's not a one-off blip. I can't help but do the numbers (you know, if I lose x a week then by y I'll be...). I tried to look at the bigger (forgive the pun) picture and just say, okay, I want to be back in my beloved tweed coat by October: I fear this means 3 1/2 stone though and I fear even more that this may be too big (there it is again) an ask.
Talking of blips (or indeed blimps). I'm going to make the best choices I can whilst we're away but it's clearly not going to be the same as eating salads at home (if it is, we're doing something wrong). I intend to choose the most carb-free foods I can (I won't be diving headfirst into a vat of pasta for instance) but I'm anticipating more wine than usual.
Tomorrow night we're staying with friends of P who are great drinkers - I won't (and can't!) try and keep pace but even so, it's likely to be a bit over what I'd normally drink. Then we're off for three nights in a pub - chosen for its links to P's beloved meat supplier in London (The Ginger Pig. No that's the butcher, not me but I'm very much alive to the amusing double meaning, thank you). At least it's not Italian! Food choices ought not to be too difficult. There may be the occasional pudding but, thank the lord, I'm so fussy about pudding that more often than not I don't see anything I fancy.
We hope to do a bit of walking too. Probably better for the soul than the waistline but a fringe benefit is a fringe benefit.
Apart from SoD, I now have another monitoring exercise - taking my blood sugar. I'm getting reasonably blase about whacking a needle in me but the sense of failure if my blood sugar levels aren't low enough is almost as profound as when SoD throws me a curveball. I am keeping a grip because it's early days and it may be that my drugs haven't kicked in. The biggest similarity is my reluctance to engage when I know things won't be good. Today, for example. I know cake is likely to produce a bad result so I don't really want to see it. Today has been a needle free day thus far.
I also went shopping today. I have read that this is supposed to be fun - that some people actually enjoy it. I may even know people who enjoy it - but they mystify me. Nothing is more likely to induce crippling self-loathing than looking at myself in mirrors and coming home empty handed. I gave myself the distraction of accessories (some navy shoe-boots and a new work bag) but failed on all counts. The seemingly inocuous task of a (preferably stripy) long sleeved t-shirt was in fact an impossible quest (who knew?). I tried to steer clear of all other clothes but, sick of the boob-pain, resolved to buy a bra (Reader: I have bottled this twice recently).
I went to Bravissimo as I have proven to myself repeatedly that I have no idea what size I am. This requires military style planning as I know it means standing in front of someone, half-naked. It had to be a skirt for stomach-camoflaging properties - I couldn't display myself in jeans. Luckily the fitter was kind (although appalled that my current bra only contained half of my breasts - the other half being forced to skulk under my arms resentfully) and although the resulting bra is now hurting, I suspect it's just the newness rather than gradual boob bisection. I even bought a patterned hot pink 2nd bra: Reader, I detest pink. Still not sure what happened there but this is it (no, don't worry, not me in it but a pretty, normal lingerie-model type):
http://www.figleaves.com/uk/product/FRA-AA1651/Freya-Tropics-Underwired-Plunge-Bra/?size=&colour=Reds
It says red. It's not red. I was also way out in the size I thought I was - a whole underband size smaller and 2-3 cup sizes bigger. My cup runneth over indeed.
Thursday, 27 February 2014
Friday, 21 February 2014
The SoD debate
Thank
you for your words of support. I’m still
not happy but what can I do? I have to
get on with it.
Of course, this renewal of my dedication to the carb-free life (SOB) needs to be evaluated. I know this. I have ordered a blood sugar monitor but of course, mentally screaming and kicking, I have forced myself to realise that the Scales of Doom will have to once more have a place in my life. A feared, despised, terrified place of disappointment, resentment and dashed hopes. A short period of time each week that I fear and which has the power to destroy not just my week, but my morale too.
Of course (again), I know I’m fatter. The fact that stuff doesn’t fit me makes that abundantly and painfully clear. I have however clung to the fact that at least I am not back at pre LL days. I reckoned I was about a stone off which was bad but at least I hadn’t undone all that pain.
I didn’t want to weigh myself for so many reasons but not least that I’ve been doing this for over a week and therefore wouldn’t see any initial slightly faster loss.
Out came SoD, covered in a film of dust but I could feel a malevolent energy underneath that (I had kinda hoped that the batteries would be dead). I am slightly heavier than before I started LL. Yes, fresh fat but the wrong way.
I believe that it’s customary at this point to make soothing noises about ‘never seeing those numbers again’ but I am living proof that this is not so.
I am assuming I was even heavier last week. Of course, my assumptions have proven to be absolute rubbish so far so who knows? What I will know is what I weigh next week.
But I don’t feel good. I'm struggling. I need a break (although obviously not a Kit Kat)
Of course, this renewal of my dedication to the carb-free life (SOB) needs to be evaluated. I know this. I have ordered a blood sugar monitor but of course, mentally screaming and kicking, I have forced myself to realise that the Scales of Doom will have to once more have a place in my life. A feared, despised, terrified place of disappointment, resentment and dashed hopes. A short period of time each week that I fear and which has the power to destroy not just my week, but my morale too.
Of course (again), I know I’m fatter. The fact that stuff doesn’t fit me makes that abundantly and painfully clear. I have however clung to the fact that at least I am not back at pre LL days. I reckoned I was about a stone off which was bad but at least I hadn’t undone all that pain.
I didn’t want to weigh myself for so many reasons but not least that I’ve been doing this for over a week and therefore wouldn’t see any initial slightly faster loss.
Out came SoD, covered in a film of dust but I could feel a malevolent energy underneath that (I had kinda hoped that the batteries would be dead). I am slightly heavier than before I started LL. Yes, fresh fat but the wrong way.
I believe that it’s customary at this point to make soothing noises about ‘never seeing those numbers again’ but I am living proof that this is not so.
I am assuming I was even heavier last week. Of course, my assumptions have proven to be absolute rubbish so far so who knows? What I will know is what I weigh next week.
But I don’t feel good. I'm struggling. I need a break (although obviously not a Kit Kat)
Monday, 17 February 2014
Sweet enough
It’s
been a long time and I have a lot to say.
You might want to nip off and make a cup of tea – this could take some time.
Work has been appalling. If you’re yawning, I can’t say I blame you. But it’s true. I seem to be in a permanent state of nervous exhaustion. I didn’t have to work over the weekend which was wonderful but the previous Saturday I had to be in for 9am, didn’t leave my desk until 6pm when I went home and started again at 7pm until midnight – and then worked solidly from 6am – 10.30am the following morning. And I think I’ve got out at lunchtime three times since the beginning of December. Sorry to moan, but it’s making life very difficult.
But that’s not the full story.
Do you remember I said I was being tested for my heart (which I was worried about) and diabetes (which I was not)? Well I have my heart tests on Wednesday but I tested positive for diabetes. It was a real shock – I am not thirsty, I do not need the loo a lot (just as well since that’s also something there is no time for in the working day) and I’m not losing weight inexplicably or explicably. Sadly.
It could explain my very, very cold feet. It could explain my scalp psoriasis. It could explain my headaches. But none of these are very mainstream symptoms.
As is typical of my doctor, I just got a note in the post, together with my blood readings and a prescription. I’m not keen on taking things and I strongly suspected that I was borderline and they just react in a mechanical way. I checked my readings online though and they’re pretty damn high; there’s no room for doubt and I can see why they’ve put me on medication immediately.
When I look back, I’ve always had screwy blood sugar. I dieted myself into this in my teens – that’s when I first started getting shaky, sweaty and faint if I’d not eaten and the only thing that helped was something carby and/or sugary. I was the thinnest I’d ever been (or will ever be). This continued with varying levels of frequency and severity for much of my life – definitely exacerbated by eating too much sugar or carbs. Although the low carb diet did not give me the weight loss results I wanted, it definitely made me feel the most well – I never had to worry about getting ‘the shakes’.
I’m not carb-obsessed. Yes, I love cake – but it’s not a frequent part of my diet. I’m not keen on pastry, I like good bread but despise indifferent bread, I like pasta from time to time and I really like rice although don’t eat it more than a couple of times a month. But carbs are easy. When I don’t have time to make lunch to take to work, buying an artisan roll from Pret (mmm) is quick, easy and delicious. Even finding a salad without pasta/rice/couscous in is pretty impossible. But clearly I need to cut my carbs right back down. I’d still like to have a bit at weekends sometimes too so need to be super-strict during the week.
And my tablets are making me feel quite ill – I’d been warned that this is often the case but I thought I’d got away with it by researching to build the dose up and take in the middle of a meal. All was mostly well until last night …. and then it was not. Today I have quite bad stomach ache. It can last a fortnight but apparently it’s worth sticking out if I can. At least I’m not vomiting.
The truth is though that although I’m trying to be positive and empowering myself by reading up lots, I am not at all happy about any of this. I feel a failure. I know it’s certainly not the worst illness to have but I feel ashamed of it. I know people will look at me and think I brought this on myself. As it is, I eat pretty healthily. Yes, I have a sweet tooth which does occasionally get out of hand – but actually not much. I’ve only told P and my mum and sworn them both to secrecy.
Work has been appalling. If you’re yawning, I can’t say I blame you. But it’s true. I seem to be in a permanent state of nervous exhaustion. I didn’t have to work over the weekend which was wonderful but the previous Saturday I had to be in for 9am, didn’t leave my desk until 6pm when I went home and started again at 7pm until midnight – and then worked solidly from 6am – 10.30am the following morning. And I think I’ve got out at lunchtime three times since the beginning of December. Sorry to moan, but it’s making life very difficult.
But that’s not the full story.
Do you remember I said I was being tested for my heart (which I was worried about) and diabetes (which I was not)? Well I have my heart tests on Wednesday but I tested positive for diabetes. It was a real shock – I am not thirsty, I do not need the loo a lot (just as well since that’s also something there is no time for in the working day) and I’m not losing weight inexplicably or explicably. Sadly.
It could explain my very, very cold feet. It could explain my scalp psoriasis. It could explain my headaches. But none of these are very mainstream symptoms.
As is typical of my doctor, I just got a note in the post, together with my blood readings and a prescription. I’m not keen on taking things and I strongly suspected that I was borderline and they just react in a mechanical way. I checked my readings online though and they’re pretty damn high; there’s no room for doubt and I can see why they’ve put me on medication immediately.
When I look back, I’ve always had screwy blood sugar. I dieted myself into this in my teens – that’s when I first started getting shaky, sweaty and faint if I’d not eaten and the only thing that helped was something carby and/or sugary. I was the thinnest I’d ever been (or will ever be). This continued with varying levels of frequency and severity for much of my life – definitely exacerbated by eating too much sugar or carbs. Although the low carb diet did not give me the weight loss results I wanted, it definitely made me feel the most well – I never had to worry about getting ‘the shakes’.
I’m not carb-obsessed. Yes, I love cake – but it’s not a frequent part of my diet. I’m not keen on pastry, I like good bread but despise indifferent bread, I like pasta from time to time and I really like rice although don’t eat it more than a couple of times a month. But carbs are easy. When I don’t have time to make lunch to take to work, buying an artisan roll from Pret (mmm) is quick, easy and delicious. Even finding a salad without pasta/rice/couscous in is pretty impossible. But clearly I need to cut my carbs right back down. I’d still like to have a bit at weekends sometimes too so need to be super-strict during the week.
And my tablets are making me feel quite ill – I’d been warned that this is often the case but I thought I’d got away with it by researching to build the dose up and take in the middle of a meal. All was mostly well until last night …. and then it was not. Today I have quite bad stomach ache. It can last a fortnight but apparently it’s worth sticking out if I can. At least I’m not vomiting.
The truth is though that although I’m trying to be positive and empowering myself by reading up lots, I am not at all happy about any of this. I feel a failure. I know it’s certainly not the worst illness to have but I feel ashamed of it. I know people will look at me and think I brought this on myself. As it is, I eat pretty healthily. Yes, I have a sweet tooth which does occasionally get out of hand – but actually not much. I’ve only told P and my mum and sworn them both to secrecy.
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