The dieting blues

Somehow two WIs have passed since I last put pen to paper (or at least, fingers to keyboard).  I am trying to take from this that the time spent in this period of hard dieting will pass more quickly than it currently feels.  I find dieting to be lonely, relentless and myopic.

Lonely: maybe it’s because I don’t belong to a ‘club’.  Maybe if I were to take my weekly communions with Scales of Doom in public, I’d not feel like this.  But I doubt it.  I’ve been to a couple in the past and found them to be soul-sapping and irritation-raising.  I’m quite sure that one was the model for the Little Britain sketch.  One day the leader – in tones that implied extreme excitement – asked us to name as many different types of lettuce that we could think of.  There was a long, painful silence and the sort of facial expressions that lets you know a small child has just pooed its nappy.  Finally I could stand it no more: “iceburglollorossolamb’slettucefriseecosrocketspinachoakchicorywatercress”.  I did not, dear Reader, say peashoots as there was no such thing then.  And I love peashoots: life’s improved.  Anyway, I never went back – and I dare say they were relieved.  Other clubs I’ve attended have been largely about pushing chemical products and talking to me in the third person as if I were simple.  So loneliness is better, I guess.  The blogging world has stepped into this breach though – to be able to find people going through the same thing is immensely comforting. 

Relentless: it really is as Mad Eyed Moody said in Harry Potter: “Constant Vigilance”.  But it’s exhausting to keep your guard up against food all the time.  There are times when you’re tired, when you’re hungry and haven’t planned ahead, when you want to just see what you ‘feel like’ eating (always a mistake in my case), when you’re up against 10 deadlines at once and want to mainstream sugar, when you just want a day off.  And you can of course do all or any of those things – but you know what the result will be.  It can be depressing – although not as depressing as trying to find things to wear that don’t cause you to look in the mirror and feel the sort of pain and shame that causes your very soul to shrink in horror.  There is no such thing as dieting time out – if you’re not losing, then, chances are (if you’re me) you’re gaining.  And then you’re going to have to get on with losing that.

Myopic: I’ve talked about this before – when your entire world contracts in on you.  The secret relief when social arrangements fall through as you know it will throw you off dieting course.  The way that your mood for the week is dictated by that one encounter with SoD.  The way that you wish the time away from WI to WI because you.  Just.  Want.  Rid.  Of.  It.  The Diet becomes all-consuming.  Somewhat ironically.  Again, the blogging world helps as otherwise my only yardstick is the dieting world portrayed by the media.  And none of THOSE women take 3 months to lose a stone.  Oh no.  THEY lose weight at a dizzying rate.  I am pleased for them and I hate them.  Shameful, I know.  If I could have any super power it would be to eat what I want without putting on any weight.  Yes, above flying, invisibility, super-strength – above ANYTHING.  Okay, radiant beauty would be beguiling, but for me, that’s the same as being slim.  Radiant beauty and a permanent diet or me and able to eat anything?  It’s a toughie.  As it is I strongly suspect I will have to settle for me and a permanent diet.

Last week I lost – as predicted – 1lb.  This week I STS.  I am not unduly surprised as I didn’t have a good week and my period is overdue (nope, not pregnant – in case that’s where your thoughts went).  I panic ate some pretzels and sweets at work during a stressful time and then we went out for dinner on Saturday.  Yes, I tried to rein back apart from that but I’m still not surprised.  This means I have 13 weeks to lose 18lbs.  I know in my heart of hearts I can’t do it (especially as my birthday is in there) but it’s very difficult not to hope and agonise.  Maybe it’s more that my head knows it’s impossible but my stupid heart is too stubborn to believe it.

Fatloss Forecast:

This week (all 2 days so far) has been scrupulously good.  Let’s see what the WI brings (whilst crossing every appendage, obviously).  I may be seeing one of my best friends on Tuesday and next week is looking like a stressful (ie very busy) work week but I’m hanging out for a reasonable loss.  I’ve had a lot of small ones recently – I’d like 2lbs+ please (okay, I’d like 4lbs+ but even I have to be reasonable).  The following week is looking more tricksy with a short work trip to Preston (yes, I know, I live a life of international level glamour) and, more excitingly, a long-booked themed evening at our local restaurant focussing on lobster and scallops.  6 courses.  With wine.  I’m not at all convinced by their wine choices but ready to be converted.  More on this, I suspect, next week – if I get time to write.

May your SoDs be kind.