April 2010 – 408lbs
I weighed myself this morning.
The scales said 399.8lbs.
My heart said: “You knew it before you stepped on the scales.”
I’ve been getting winded just by walking up the stairs in the house. There are thirteen stairs in our house. I’ve been getting really, really worried about things like walking short distances. My bras are getting far too tight on me – one of them (the one that’s an F cup from when I got down to that amazing 450lbs, instead of my usual G cups), I’m actually spilling out of the sides – and when I tried to close my purple coat, it was really, really tight on me and it belted up underneath my boobs, and I just.
I’m really really worried about my weight.
I know that I said that I was thinking about doing the 5:2 Diet, and I never got around to doing it, because it, at the time, took too much thinking, and considering Mum does most of my cooking because I’m too effing fat to stand up for long enough to cook for myself without my back breaking in half it’s like… urgh. Too much annoyance.
What I have been doing, instead, is Mindful Eating. I’ve been paying attention to my body. I’ve only been eating when I’m hungry. I’ve been eating until I’m full, and I’ve only been eating until I’m full (with one or two exceptions when I’ve had a binge, but one or two binges in six months is a huge thing for me) and there has been very little in the way of snacking.
I’ve not been dieting. I’ve been eating what I want. And for the most part, my main meals are healthy because it’s Mum doing the cooking, and even when it’s an, “I can’t be bothered cooking,” day, what we throw in the oven isn’t generally that bad. A chicken breast thing, or a fish thing, or something. Chips or a baked potato, or something. Sweetcorn or not. Sometimes it’s just tortellini from ASDA with butter, salt, pepper and a dash of this great stuff I need to review, because it’s an amazing alternative to pasta sauces, and so low in calories and CRAP that I can’t believe it’s real.
I’ve been eating. That’s the important thing here, I think. I’ve been taking care of my body by feeding it. I’ve been eating fruit and I’ve not been starving it, and I’m…
To be honest, I’m completely flummoxed.
If dieting/Weight Watchers doesn’t work, and feeding my body what it wants doesn’t work… what the hell does? I know that South Beach works, and I know that Paleo works, but I don’t, to be perfectly honest, want to spend my life not eating pastry and bread and the like.
But is it possible to do that? To have a Paleo/low carb lifestyle where you can make stuff like that? Because to be perfectly honest, worried isn’t really the word.
I’m fucking terrified.
I’m back up toeing the 400lbs line. I’m looking at that line and a good hearty meal could see me sitting over the other side of it (and tonight’s probably will, especially as our dessert includes a really good-looking ASDA’s hand-decorated Millionaire’s shortcake cheesecake…) and I really don’t want to be back there.
To be honest, I never wanted to ever get back past 380lbs, but I gave up on myself and let it happen, because hell, I’m not fucking worth it, am I? (Dear past, present and future self: yes. Yes, you’re worth it. I’m going to kick you in the vagina if you don’t start loving yourself. Love, yourself.)
But I’m here now, and I’ve really, really got to do something about it, because the whole Mindful Eating thing obviously didn’t work. Paying attention to my body and my food and all obviously didn’t work. So I’ve got to change it up, again.
Because I got out of bed today (late – I stayed up way later than usual last night, talking to old, old friends from way back from my college days to present day. We’ve never stopped being friends; we just stopped talking. Just very little actual in the way of communications.) and I was fine. No sign of any disruption to my back. I felt fine. Went to the bathroom and did my business. It’s That Time Of The Month, and I didn’t even have any bad cramps. Came back to my room, sat down at my desk to take my pills, and when I stood up from my chair to head downstairs, my back seized up, and I thought I was going to fall over/backwards/back onto the bed. I didn’t think I was going to be able to stand up.
It’s been a long, long time now since I’ve had a full-on Back Attack, but this felt like one. This felt like how it felt when I go to sit up from the bed and I can’t. I had to sit back down and take some Methocarbamol before coaxing myself out of the chair using the desk (thankfully, my desk is made of tempered glass, and can take up to about 150kg. I figure that if I lean on the ends that I won’t break it.) as a means to get up, and I was all right-ish.
I just couldn’t lean forward. Or back.
Had to stay standing straight up.
Had to put a heat pad on my lower back, right where the jam has squidged out the donut in my back. (Translation: right where the nerves are the sorest because of the prolapsed disc.)
I’m still in pain.
And I think I can guess why.
“I weighed myself this morning.
The scales said 399.8lbs.
My heart said: ‘You knew it before you stepped on the scales.'”