Tomorrow is Hogmanay. (In non-Scots speak: New Year’s Eve.)
This time last year, I was in the exact same place as I am this year, except this year I weigh a lot lot more, so I feel that my use of the phrase “mean cycle” is justified.
So, this is what keeps on happening to me: I did really well in the first two or three weeks of Weight Watchers. Then my weight loss slowed to roughly 1lb loss a week, and I know that a loss is a good thing, no matter how small, but at my size, I should easily be losing 4lb or 5lbs a week, and I don’t. It happens maybe once, and then I go right down.
When I was actually at Weight Watchers in Ireland, there were girls there who weighed roughly 1/3 of what I weighed, and they were still losing 3 and 4lbs a week, and I’m not entirely sure what they were doing that I wasn’t.
I figure that it’s got to do with the PCOS. PCOS is one of those annoying double-edged sword things where it makes it easy to gain weight and makes it really fucking DIFFICULT to lose weight. Exercise and a good diet (and I actually have a book named The PCOS Diet Book, which I should probably get around to actually reading, since I’ve owned it for about 2 years already.
The interesting thing about PCOS, which is mentioned in the Wiki article, is that not all women with PCOS have ovarian cysts, and not all women with ovarian cysts have PCOS. I wonder if I’m one of those women, but anyway.
As I said, it makes it difficult to lose weight, and pretty much anybody who’s ever spoken to me about weight loss – my doctor, my endocrinologist, my psychiatrist – have all told me the same thing, to the point that I told my doctor exactly what a nutritionist would have told me:
5 portions of fruit and veg a day; cut down on fat, especially saturated fats; eat less calories, exercise more so that you’re burning more calories than you’re taking in, overall.
I know how to lose weight. It’s such an easy thing to do, really, when you think about it, but when you’re in this, as I’ve called it, mean cycle, then.
This is what I’m hopefully going to deal with when I go to therapy.
When I’m in this mean cycle, it sort of goes:
1. Oh my god you’re such a fat fuck, you should probably exercise and go on a diet, because you’re absolutely fucking disgusting.
2. I try to exercise and diet – Weight Watcher’s, South Beach, Slim•Fast, whatever – but exercise is really fucking hard when you weigh more than 400lbs, and diet gets boring after a while, because it’s all self-deprivation, and I don’t do self-deprivation too well.
3. Oh my god you’re such a fat fuck, nobody’s ever going to love you anyway because you’re absolutely fucking disgusting, you might as well just eat 3 packs of crisps and a whole tub of ice cream and order take-away, because what the fuck is the point?
Then a month or a week or a year or whatever after 3. has come and is still happening, 1. will kick in.
And, in case you’re wondering, #1 is no better than #3. It’s really not. It’s as full of self-loathing – you’re absolutely fucking disgusting – as #3.
So I’m hoping that I get a referral to see a therapist soon, because I think that the self-loathing thing is a huge thing for me.
I shouldn’t hate myself that much. Nobody should hate themselves that much.
Never mind that the PCOS makes it so much fucking harder to lose weight. Oy.
And in case anybody’s wondering, yes, this does mean that the diet “before Christmas” didn’t quite work out. I actually binged on Slim•Fast treats, and clementines and apples.
You can all join me in a collective face-palming session now, if you wish.
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