….But I cheated. I cheated on my diet for the nth time, but probably made the best progress I’ve made after repeated attempts, to be consistent.
Mark and I had a nice day together, shopping and generally doing things he hates (jokes), went for a walk with Millie and got productive stuff done and caught up on some TV shows we’re resuming now that U.S. TV is back on track (you guys are the best entertainers). We were shopping and I had temptation everywhere, from processed chain store takeaway to the yummiest and crispiest pork crackling I feel I’ve ever seen… but I resisted! I had a caesar salad for lunch (better than the KFC I was eyeing off) and snacked on fruit and general kept my text book promise to stay disciplined the whole day, which is nearly impossible for me.
All was going well even until dinner time (I’ve normally failed by lunch) when I was cooking a healthy salmon and steamed veggies, when all of a sudden Mark’s brother comes over for a board game session and brings 3 large chocolate sundaes and 2 large fries over… I couldn’t be rude and refuse…
Sigh. It seems so trivial but it’s so hard for be to be consistent, even during the course of a day which is only a mere few hours compared to the years I’ve been struggling with weight and the negative consequences of being overweight. I have many photos around the house of me in younger and healthier days where I WASN’T 30kg overweight, but I remember even back then that I had body issue problems. I thought I was FAT at 58kg. Well, if I only knew back then what was going to be staring back at me on the scales nowadays, I would have been happily content with 58kg. How deluded we are in our youth and even as I got older and fatter and less active I still thought I was ok. I wish it wasn’t so…trivial… to have a body issue problem, I wish it was as serious as having a mental illness or cancer so that people wouldn’t fob it off as some phase or rite of passage or just some minor hangup, because it’s not. It’s a pervasive, all consuming obsession that can fracture or completely break people and entire families and relationships.
Mark is trying to be very supportive. I have a whole bunch of photos around the house that had been taken at a wedding recently that I was incredibly ashamed of… I’ve since put them all on the spots that I look at like my calendar, the fridge, cupboards, etc, to remind me to face what I’ve been avoiding over the last, I’d say, 5 years, and to correct the delusion that all is ok and I’m fine the way I am, because I’m not.
Because of my weight I:
- Feel ashamed daily
- Go out less
- Can’t buy the clothes I used to
- Eat more than I should
- Am less motivated to do anything for myself
- Am incredibly unfit
- Won’t be able to conceive easily when the time comes
- Have worse endometriosis than I possibly should (although that’s debatable)
- Cope with daily depression that’s treated medically
- can’t sleep in the same bed as my fiance because I snore too loudly
- Feel otherwise not who I could or should be
There is a more extensive list, but I fear this post will just spiral into a dark and moody place that no one wants to really go to, acknowledge or talk about.
Fun. Happy. Places.