Sense, absence and uncertainty

Hello world - the fat lass is back.

Hmmm, I guess there's been a reason I've been absent and haven't posted for a couple of weeks. It's quite simple. I've been hiding... mostly from myself.

Looking back through the posts made over the last few months (back to the beginning of the year, really), they clearly show that things haven't been right for quite a while. It really hasn't been a great year at all, so far, although I still can't really identify why things have affected me so badly - they just have. Whatever the causes, I've struggled and, oh so often, found myself taking two steps backward for every one step forward.

And the results? My weight has see-sawed in response to my lack of focus. Currently, it's back to being just a shade over 70kg. At my worst point my weight sailed way back up to 74kg and stayed there for a couple of days. You can probably imagine how that made me feel - my self-esteem has had a pretty bumpy ride too.

Sure, the scales have hit the 69kg mark once or twice but that's been for just a few brief moments in time - it has never really dipped below that. Way back in April I moaned about hovering around at a bit over/under 70kg for rather too long. Here we are, nearly July already and I don't feel much has changed. Since I last saw my dietician in March my weight has not reduced significantly, if at all, and that isn't good. Maybe but maybe I can improve on that by the time I see her next, in September?

I think some of my inertia comes down to laziness (cunningly disguised as lack of time) and some from a willingness to take on board comments like 'you look great' and 'you don't want to lose any more weight'. These are well intended, but are not very helpful as inspiration to keep at it.

And I still find it strange/odd/puzzling that on two consecutive days I can feel so utterly different, despite occupying exactly the same body. One day I'll feel relatively slim and 'normal' and be quite pleased with the reflection I catch a glimpse of in shop windows; other days I take one look at myself and want to hide away from the world and put on my baggiest clothes. This has to be mind games, not reality, so how do I get past it and move forward?

I think it would also help if I focus on where I really do want to get to. You see, I've already pretty much surpassed the 'size 14' target which seemed so pie-in-the-sky when I first began. Trouble is, that target never really got replaced by a new one. The 'normal' BMI one is great in words, but my head just can't seem to visualise it.

I guess I know what I should do if I'm serious about losing the additional lbs. That is eat less, exercise more. The big question is... am I serious. I haven't shown many indications of this for some time so how do I make myself actually put my money where my mouth is. I've been trying... but regularly failing.

It might help to examine the pros and cons of where I find myself right now. In no particular order...

Pros:

• c.5 stone down on where I first started, two years ago
• healthier (definitely!) than when I first started
• improved eating habits (fruit/veg = in, chocolate/crisps = out)
• no reversion to steady weight gain
• holding at something like a UK size 12-14 (not too bad from size 24!)
• I can (and sometimes do) wear pretty girly dresses
  
• BMI no longer 'obese' or worse
• still rowing for c.15 minutes each morning
• no more physio visits (although the daily exercises are still ongoing)
• no more inhalers needed

Cons:

• no overall weight loss since c. February/March
• not exercising as much as I should (still no gym or Chi Kung)
• still at an 'overweight' BMI
• that 'orrible belly remains!
• too fat to wear my new Wrangler jeans without a flabby muffin-top
• still prone to the 'under stress = eat food' reaction, even if the type of food's improved

Is this the point where I should kick my butt into action, or just relax and start singing Monty Python's 'Always look on the bright side of life'? Only the fat lass can decide.

Disaster!

... but maybe a few small signs of recovery?

Oh well, I can't put it off any longer... it's high time that my confession comes out. To be honest, with what I'm about to put down in black and white, I'm cringing.

I have recently let my inner 'fat lass' get completely out of control and, looking back, seem to have been pretty determined to de-rail myself. OK, I was ill for a few days, I'm still stressed at work, still feeling tired as I'm not sleeping too well and, for no apparent reason, am rather down - but that does not excuse this type of 'bad old days' behaviour. I'll say it again - it is no excuse! This is exactly what led to me becoming the fat lass in the first place.

The confession follows a week and a half of feeling grotty on all fronts, doing no exercise and stuffing myself with all the wrong things... and apparently not giving a damn. The result? My trousers are no longer looking to be taken in at the waist, my weight shot right back up to a whopping 72kg and I'm not pleased. Also, because I ate such a lot meat and passed on the veggies, my digestive system has played up over the last couple of days. Not good.

Worse still, although Monday brought me the short, sharp, shock when I got on the scales, I don't think even that really stopped the rot. Sure, I got back on the rower, but only did 250 strokes - come on, you need to make the effort, fat lass!

The rest of Monday wasn't fantastic. I did restrain myself to eating relatively healthily with a salad and fruit. Apart, that is, from the breadsticks which disappeared out of the box without my really being aware of it. Things didn't improve either. I went out for dinner with a friend Monday night and even though I didn't even like my meal, I ate it... all of it! Even more shocking is that I hit the whisky and munched on poppadums and full-fat soft goat cheese when I got home, because my meal had been rubbish. Dear heavens, what were you thinking?

Tuesday was slightly better, no actually a lot better, and by this morning I feel like I'm getting back on a safe track again. The scales tell me that the weight has dropped back down to 71kg. Still too high but at least heading in the right direction.

But, I'm really, really, very annoyed with myself indeed. In fact, I'm so damned angry I could cry. I just have not been taking care of myself in any way at all and I should have learned by now that not caring is a short cut to gaining flab and feeling like a dismal failure.

I know that everyone hits obstacles at times, and I know that I shouldn't be too hard on myself for the fact that I let myself fall off the wagon. What worries me is that I haven't quite figured out why it happened this time, and I fear that similar circumstances could de-rail me again.

Oh well, a day at a time.

Bitten

Ah, that explains it then, the mutt was a precursor - looks like the black dog may have had cause to join me. Once he'd arrived, hot on his tail came one of those pesky summer bugs, leaving me shivering in yesterday afternoon's 25 degree heat with the rest of the world sweating in the glorious sunshine. Starting with a mild feeling of 'not being quite right', it came on fast until pretty much everything ached, right down to my eyeballs.

Just about managed to make it home, couldn't eat my dinner (nice healthy baked fish with steamed veggies too, dammit!) but hit the paracetamol and went slinking off to my bed. Even the touch of bedclothes hurt!

Still, my body appeared to know exactly what it needed. Alternating sweats and shivers, I slept and drank, slept and drank, slept and drank (with the expected consequence of an odd pee break) right through to this morning's alarm. Sadly, had to get up for a morning meeting with the boss or I'd probably be there now!

Still drinking gallons of water. Tea does not taste right at all and food is anathema. I've just managed to force some natural yoghurt down (chased by paracetamol) but what I really want is to sleep some more. I can stagger on until home-time but then I'm for my bed again. What a great start to my course this'll be.

Rowing this morning? Don't make me laugh!

Beware! 'Black Dog' on the loose

...and with the consequences I would prefer to have avoided.

I had a bad day yesterday. After quite a sleepless night I was so strung up about getting the results for my mum's scan and x-ray that I felt like I was barely functioning. Work did not go well at all (no point going over the details) and I resorted to old bad habits - that is, nibbling.

Good stuff, to begin with. My fresh fruit, a couple of Ryvita and my lunch, so not too bad... even if more than I should have eaten and way too fast. But the afternoon brought more worries and problems. Stupidly, I took a £1 coin with me to get some tea. And of course bought a (large) slice of coconut and cherry cake to eat with it.

Then met my lovely hubby on my way home and we foolishly picked up pre-prepared couscous and cooked chicken bits (and some barely recognisable sausage things) for our evening meal. Oh boy, we are both as bad as each other - will we never learn! Thanks, Tesco - they were fatty, tasteless and disgusting so we threw a good half of dinner in the bin. But the damage had already been done and we consoled ourselves with yoghurt (and in my case a chunk of olive bread too).

Well, finally got to hear the news. Mum's results were good, in that both reported clear. But, those results just leave so many questions unanswered. I should be dancing with joy that nothing of significance was found, but I'm not and just I can't make myself do it. So, of course, I'm now also kicking myself over that very lack of delight.

You see, I'm now worrying that maybe we don't have all the information we should. I suppose that comes from not understanding why our poor mum should keep losing yet more weight (when she is already so tiny and fragile) and why she should be getting so very much more frail so quickly and inexorably. She is really not doing very well at all and I'm worried about her. My sister feels similarly that there must be some root cause, but not knowing what it is makes dealing with it and planning for the future quite a challenge. And we both hate living so damn far away!

In consequence I had another poor night last night, with nightmares and sleepless chunks again. So I'm tired, unsurprisingly short on patience and not having the best of days again today. I even felt sluggish on the rower this morning. Although I still managed my 400 it was a fair bit slower and didn't leave me with my usual buzz. I am really not looking forward to embarking on my management course, which starts this week. Don't feel I have the energy to handle it. Yep, that damned black dog is sitting heavily on me once again

And, to cap it all, today I've been back at the nibbling. Yes, mostly good stuff but that still isn't a sensible way to deal with worries.

Right, let's look for some positives:

• Mum's results are good - they are not what we feared!
• She isn't in pain... or in hospital... or unable to see to her own basic needs
• We 'can' make it to see her with just a few hours travelling if she needs us quickly

and...

• I'm exercising every day (even if it's for a relatively short period, it's daily)
• It's summer, so the sun is shining (it is a whole lot nastier feeling low when it's gloomy outside)
• I'm still eating healthy food... mostly (OK, I've been comfort eating but at least it's mainly good stuff, not chocolate and crisps)

and...

• I've managed to call a halt to the nibbling today - just drinking LOTS of water!

What do I weigh? Don't know, although I can guess, but am not inclined to get on the scales to make myself feel even worse until I get a serious grip on my emotions. C'mon fat lass!