So, to recap, this month has involved the following:
• The rejoining of my preferred gym
• Attendance at the gym 4 days a week for at least 40 minutes each visit
• The throwing out of my scales
• Visits to the hypnotherapist and engaging in trance work each day
• The partaking of 1 x joint and 2 x half cone
• The eating of 1100, 1300 or 1600 calories each day. There was one day where I lost my rhythm and ate 2000 calories.
I did not abstain completely from alcohol as originally planned. I engaged in the following boozing:
• Barbecue at L’s house – 1 x vodka, lime and soda UDL
• Australia Day – 6 x sugar free cruiser
• Some other day, I don’t remember why, whatevs – 2 x sugar free cruiser
• Drinks out with L – 6 x gin, lime and soda
• N’s going away party – 2 x frozen margarita
• H’s birthday – 6 x sugar free cruiser
• Flood party with N and Br - half a bottle of gin with diet mixers + 2 glasses of mango wine
All of the above was accounted for in my daily calorie limits aside from the flood party drinks. I was taking a bit of an eyes wide shut approach to the calories in alcohol previously. I guess I just assumed that what I was eating was going to be far more problematic. This could have been incredibly naive.
Tomorrow they’ll weigh me and I’ll know.
Earlier in the month I told my hypno that I was feeling guilty that I’d fallen down on my commitment not to drink this month – that I’d essentially promised I wouldn’t drink at all to see if I would lose weight as a result. ‘What will that prove?’, she asked me. Even if I do lose weight by not drinking at all, do I plan on never drinking again? No. Probably not a valuable strategy then.
I have mixed feelings about tomorrow. My jeans feel a little looser. Maybe I’ve lost weight. Maybe.
For 3 weeks I was feeling very positive and it was simple to keep my calories down.
Then they started to creep up again.
a) There is a large backlog at work after Christmas and the floods. The senior solicitor is going on leave and the other solicitor who was going to fill his position is on sick leave for at least another 2 weeks. This leaves only me and another solicitor who works 2 days per week.
b) I have a number of large, grown up, financial demands at the moment – getting the cat desexed, and the car fixed, rego renewal and new glasses.
c) I recently discovered that a number of people have exited the trial due to lack of results. Some of these people are getting sleeves or bypasses done.
d) Weigh in is getting closer and I’m terrified that I won’t have lost.
I’m not sure if I can do much more exercise than this or eat much less than this without forgoing a social life altogether. I’m not sure where there is to go after this without drugs.
A work colleague has suggested going and consulting an outside dietician. That could be a goer.
N says what she’s read says 1100 calories per day is too low. I managed this probably 3 out of 4 days for 3 weeks this month before things got heavy and the cals went up a bit.
So I've been aiming for 1300 per day.
Last time I lost anything substantial I think I was on 300 a day. That’s Portia de Rossi style. It was also drug assisted. I'm ambivalent about going back to this.
Not doing anything but weight loss for 6 months or a year might be possible. It might be something that can be done. But I worry about what would happen to me if I did that.
I read a nice piece by John Birmingham the other day that touched on some issues around fat politics. I made the mistake of reading the comments. I stopped after the first one:
‘...I'll say it, Obesity[sic] is disgusting, unhealthy and almost without exception the result of someone who did not know when to say no. I am 37 and recently looked over some old primary and high school photos, the fatties where a slim (boom tish) minority, now they are everywhere. Sorry, but there has not been some mysterious illness that has stuck[sic] the population in the last 30 years that has lead to the condition, nothing more than idleness and complacency.
Stop whining, eat some vegies, step away from the burger and get some bloody exercise, it is not difficult. When there are millions of people every day not knowing where their next meal is coming from it is revolting and selfish to sit on your fat acre cramming garbage down your neck and moaning about being so fat.
Go on, skip a meal, know what it feels like to be hungry, remember what it feels like to be hungry; it is not something to be feared, once your body looses[sic] the ability to gauge hunger and fullness obesity is luring around the corner. Try not eating until you really feel you need to, then have some veggies and wholegrains and lean protein, walk away before you feel like you want to spew, in fact go for a walk!!!!
Time for the gloves to come off, softly softly isn't working.’
Em - February 01, 2011, 7:01AM
I don’t think this is necessarily a troll because I think this is a relatively widespread belief – that my fat communicates to you in no uncertain terms that I am greedy, lazy, undisciplined. That I am smelly in summer. That I am unattractive. That I am weak. That my sexuality is distasteful. That I have a poor relationship with food and exercise. That I cannot create, pursue and achieve goals.
If hateful, judgmental people on the internet or IRL had the power to shame you thin, there wouldn’t be any obese people in the community.
Shit like this makes me wonder how long I have to eat 1100 calories a day before I can start calling myself the ‘Immaculate Fatty’.
When I was 14, I was 74kg and 165cm tall, placing me 5 kilograms into the ‘overweight’ bracket of the BMI. It was probably a good weight for me at that age – hips, boobs and ass is what my Mother’s side of the family is all about and those things don’t weigh nothing. But that’s hard for you to appreciate when a good chunk of your friends haven’t started developing yet. I felt like a behemoth.
I dated a boy for 3 weeks. It was his idea and I reluctantly agreed. On this basis I can only assume that he quite liked me. He would sing to me. I would have to take my retainer out after class and keep it in my pocket during lunch because he would always wanted to kiss down behind the school swimming pool.
So I felt terrible because I didn’t really like him that much. So I ended it. ‘Let’s be friends’ all the usual garbage. He was quite hurt.
A month or two later, a boy from my grade, a bit of a lad, pulled me aside. He wanted to tell me about a rumour that was going around because he felt like I had a right to know. I guess this meant that he understood it to be unfounded.
In the story we are about to have sex for the first time. I take off my clothes and there are rolls and rolls of fat. They are disgusting and he loses his erection. There is a terrible smell and he realises it is my vagina.
I don’t want to deconstruct this today.
I’ll just show you a photo of me from that time.
I’m skipping dinner tonight, in honour of Em. To her, and her gloves.
You can ask me anything.