Category Archives: In the here & now

Served With A Backhand

Freeform thoughts

compA friend of my mum paid me a compliment today when we bumped into each other as I’d popped in for a visit and I accepted it with good humour, but as I’ve reflected on our conversation I’m starting to feel just a little bit mugged off. When is a compliment not a compliment..? I’d hazard a guess and say when it’s served up immediately before a long silence that contains no spoken words  whatsoever but the implied meaning says more than words ever could.

I can think of a few really obvious examples. When someone says you’ve got such a pretty face, without exception we all know what they really mean is shame about the rest of you, if only you’d lay off the pies, but they’re too polite to come out with it. Whenever I put weight on, it goes to my face first and I’ve always hated that.

I remember reading teenage magazines with make-up tutorials way back in the day and I used to lay on my bed and seethe with resentment that with the best will in the world no matter how much I yearned for a heart-shaped face mine could only ever be described as round. It felt really unfair, like I’d been dealt the joker you know? A little dab of this week’s free blusher here, and a bit of shading there and my face still looked…well, round.

When someone says I like that top, it gives you a really nice shape, it feels like what they really mean is you generally look like a sack of spuds but that pattern hides more of your lumps than the one you wore yesterday. And yes, I get that the way you interpret stuff has got a lot to do with how you see or think or feel about yourself but still, some compliments are framed thoughtlessly and they sting, intentionally or not.

As a fat girl you kind of get used to bumping into comments like that, and whilst not everybody serves them up, you quickly get to know the people who do. If you’re anything like me you’ve probably shrugged them off a lot of the time and beaten yourself up for being oversensitive and maybe that’s even true some of the time. But not all of the time, right?

My mum’s friend wouldn’t have deliberately upset me for the world. I know that. But right after she told me how good I was looking, she followed it up by saying mind you, you’ve always been good at losing weight haven’t you…

Now, is that me, or were the words shame you can’t keep it off said without actually being said? Of course they were. Emphasis on the word losing, then the words just sort of hung there in the silence whilst I studied my feet before the conversation moved on to other things.

The annoying thing is, she’s not wrong. But it’s not her place to point it out you know? Which she didn’t, exactly…except she did, in not so many words. And now I know that she thinks that I can’t help feeling a bit offended, like I’ve been judged and found wanting. What she really means is you just keep on getting fat. You keep on blowing it. You SUCK at being a skinny string bean…I already know all those things and knowing she thinks that too has landed. Bad lands, remember..?

Best thing I can do is prove her wrong I suppose. And I fully intend to. In the meantime I’ve whiled away a good couple of hours fantasising about what I wish I’d said in return. I should’ve said yes, that’s so true but I’d rather keep trying than just accept …you know…whilst throwing a glance at her own not unsubstantial midriff. Pointing out her face looks like a melted welly boot might have taken it a bit too far.

Even though it does 🙂

 

Like it..? Tell your friends!
 

Keeping Off The Grass

Biggest Triumphs

button

Not a chance, right? Have you met me? After having a quick look around to make sure I’m not standing on a trapdoor I’d have to, I’d be all over it. I mean wouldn’t you..?

I often think that I have a surplus of curiosity running through my veins, so not pressing something that says don’t press me isn’t really an option. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not an adrenaline junkie, far from it, especially these days. And I don’t even like breaking the rules, not really. I’m a bit of a fanny in that regard, I guess I don’t like getting told off.

No, the thing that would get me about that button is that I don’t know what would happen, if I pushed it. Not knowing would push my buttons, and I’d start to obsess about it. My desire to conform would be overtaken at some point by my need to know.

I’d drive myself nuts thinking about every possible scenario and what might happen if I pressed it. I’d even wonder whether someone put it there as sort of a double-bluff and maybe there’s a massive reward for the one person who has the balls to press it. As someone who generally keeps off the grass if there’s a sign telling me I should, I find the thought of describing myself as someone who likes to break the rules strangely compelling, because it makes me sound a bit cool, you know? A rebel if you like.

And that’s so not me. But I’d still have to push that button.

Except…if someone switched out the label for one that read ‘self destruct’ that’d be a whole other ball game, kind of like my very own ‘keep off the grass’ sign for buttons. See I know what happens when you push that button. It’s a button I’m familiar with, in fact if you found a self destruct button and dusted it for fingerprints, I guarantee mine would be all over it. I sometimes think that I’ve got so used to standing with my finger on it that I don’t even notice any more.

I’ve thought a lot about this today. I can’t think of a single other example ever of me going up the scale by one pound without blowing my diet off completely out of sheer bloodymindedness because I’ve ruined it so what’s the point of carrying on, really? I was worried yesterday, just for a moment because I know my default reaction to an unexpected gain…it’s not pretty. And that pound would’ve easily turned into five pounds, and then ten, at warp speed.

Which is why I’m so grateful for Sunday’s clean day, long walk and penance on the hurt machine before bed. I’m grateful that yesterday I ate man crisps and pointed them with my battery-powered thingamabob, and still ate a healthy supper. And I’m happy that today I managed to find a 45 minute window in the middle of my working day to go out and walk in the fresh air.

I know where the self-destruct button is, and I walked away. I mean it was there, all red and shiny but I could clearly see ‘self destruct’ etched around the outside of it, and I chose to keep off the grass and carry on doing my thing, and do it better than I did last week. I’m not even rattled, not one little bit. One foot in front of the other, and repeat.

That, my friends is progress.

Like it..? Tell your friends!
 

Giving The Bill To Ron

In the here & now

loan

Hands up who’s ever been tempted to whack something on a credit card because you wanted whatever it was in that moment, and figuring out how you were going to pay for it was a problem for Ron…as in later on…not just me then..? Years and years ago I got myself into a right old pickle doing that very thing, it was a hard lesson to learn. Much time was subsequently spent working my balls off to dig myself clear of the brown stuff, and I’m a bit more careful these days, although my halo has more than a few dinks in it and the odd bit of tarnish, if truth be told.

Yesterday, in discussion with the asshole voice, I found myself agreeing in principle to eating some of my lovely artisan crisp breads with tuna and mayo topping, for which I was planning to use exercise points that I hadn’t earned at that point.

Now, I’m still wearing my shocked face after the bitch in the bathroom delivered her verdict on the last week, and it’s fair to say that everything that passed my lips yesterday was scrutinised, weighed and regarded with suspicion until it had passed muster. I even drank water, which is unheard of given that it’s one of my I know I should but…things. Fortunately, just before I signed for my dieting bank loan I woke up to what I was doing and kicked the asshole voice back into the long grass.

I’ve flirted with that approach on and off over the last few weeks, and generally when I’ve front-loaded points I’ve followed through, you know, settled my debts. On the odd occasion I haven’t, I’ve got away with it which in the overall scheme of things probably hasn’t helped. And I’m not even saying that it’s never okay to do spend your food budget in that way, I mean we’ve got a life to live, right? You’ve got to have a bit of wriggle room to ensure it fits comfortably over the long term. But for me in the here and now, I’m pulling everything back to basics.

That means weighing, measuring and counting every morsel on a battery-powered thingamabob that doesn’t guess, or forget stuff. Earning extra points before I spend them. Re-committing to my hurt machine every single day that I’m home at night and making enough time for me in my busy life so I can do just that.

When the results are coming in on track it’s easy to fall into a bad habit here or there, and it doesn’t seem to matter much, you know? However, the minute you reach that tipping point where they grind to a halt, or worse start rolling backwards, damn straight it’s time to recalibrate.

And you know what, it feels good. It felt good last night to go to bed knowing that I’d stayed true to my goal by trying my very best and giving it one hundred percent effort. Today’s heading in the same direction. Nothing like dodging a bullet to focus the mind, right?

Like it..? Tell your friends!
 

Let’s Look At The Evidence…

Biggest struggles

dog scales

Hello newly gained pound…meet the rest of my body. I’d like to say you’re very welcome but at the risk of being rude, don’t unpack your bags because actually you’re not welcome here, in fact you can just fuck right off. I mean where did you even come from..?

Something tells me I need to do an autopsy on the week because this can’t happen, right? For the first time in six months I am fatter today than I was this time last week. I’m gutted…but having had a quick flick through the week maybe it’s a lesson learned. And to be fair I have to own it. I got complacent.

Last weekend I headed south for a visit with my best buddy, was treated to a lovely Sunday lunch out, and had a handful or two of snacks in the evening which I pointed and counted. When I say pointed and counted I mean sort of guessed. Snacks I hadn’t tried before, with nutritional info on the bag which I didn’t even look at so to my shame I can’t even try and blag an educated guess. Just a plain old common-or-garden guess.

On Monday I had no breakfast, but where I’d normally eat fruit or something mid-morning in the office, I just had a couple of latte coffees during the day whilst we were working and then dinner in my hotel. Sensible choice, chicken caesar salad and I asked for the dressing on the side, which came in a jug…going well so far. Quite a large jug if I’m honest and not only did I pour it all on, I seem to remember scraping out what was left with a piece of lettuce to make sure I didn’t miss any. I don’t imagine the duck pancakes appetiser helped my daily points total either, which for the second day running was a wild guess.

Tuesday, I tucked into a generous breakfast in my hotel, more confidently pointed since it was familiar food. But definitely generous, on the basis that we would be working through lunchtime. I ate a late afternoon snack, a wrap bought from the deli next door…only guessable in terms of points. Then three large glasses of red at the bloggy folk social, oh and let’s not forget two cheese balls.

The rest of the week wasn’t bad in terms of food choices, with the exception of the whole sleeve of Jaffa Cakes which I’ve already ‘fessed up about. Is this a good time to mention that I’ve not been near my hurt machine in over a week..? And yesterday was the first time I’ve been out walking for any real distance with Charlie dog.

It’s been a busy week but that doesn’t make it any different to most of my weeks so I’m not even going to try that excuse. Fact is, I have no excuse, and the days of trying to cobble one together are long gone. I got complacent, cocky, whatever you want to call it, and the bitch in the bathroom has given me a good kicking because of it. I got what I deserved based on the week I put in – sometimes you look at the number on the scale and life feels unfair because you tried so hard, right? Not this week. This week, much as it galls me, the bitch had a point.

I’ve talked before, a lot, about worrying that if I stepped out of the sweet spot I’d be terrified I wouldn’t get back in. That if I wasn’t perfect all the time I’d get jettisoned out into the bad lands of cheese balls and chocolate to fend for myself. But that’s not where I’m at, in fact nowhere near. I didn’t fall off the wagon, I just didn’t pay enough attention that’s all and the short sharp shock which this newly acquired pound of lard has served up today was my come to Jesus moment.

Bitch, I see your pound and raise you…rematch next Sunday and come prepared to eat dirt 🙂

Like it..? Tell your friends!
 

The Odd Rusty Nail

Biggest struggles

nailsI never cease to be amazed by the way that the inner workings of my head conspire sometimes to throw a rusty nail under the wheels of my momentum. It’s ridiculous and it just drives home to me how much of a work in progress I really am.

As the blog continues to grow and new people find us, and as my weight loss slowly becomes a bit more noticeable, I’ve enjoyed more than my fair share of genuine support and compliments lately, you know? But it’s probably fair to say that lovely as they are, they’ve lulled me into a false sense of security. This isn’t easy. And I don’t have it in the bag.

This week is a case in point. I clearly didn’t learn from the last time my subscription notifications were invaded by gremlins – nobody died, and eventually the issue got fixed after winding me right up for a couple of days. It works perfectly maybe three times out of five, so it needs constant attention, and this must be the third or fourth time it’s gone tits up completely but it always gets resolved eventually…nothing to get in a sweat about, right?

So how come last night, during a long and frustrating exchange of emails between me and the technical folk who host my blog, for whom English doesn’t seem to be their first language and who can’t seem to understand what the issue is, I thought that eating an entire sleeve of Jaffa Cakes would somehow help make the situation better?

Twenty four smart points – out of a daily allowance of 38 – spent on crap for no reason other than I was pissed off that I couldn’t get anyone to just bloody fix it. I couldn’t even go back and double-check in my weight watchers thingamabob that I had enough weekly points left to cover my wobble, because this false sense of security has seen me more and more often totting things up in my head instead of using the tools I have to hand.

The tools are there to keep right on top of what I’m eating. My head on the other hand has a very selective memory, ably assisted by the asshole and although I’m quite good at sums, I’m even better at forgetting what’s on the list of stuff I’ve eaten that needs to be added up. So I think I had enough weekly points left to get away with the Jaffa Cakes but it’s really twisting my melon that I won’t know for sure.

Just look at how many my buttons are available for pushing right now. Control, because I can’t make it work. Patience, as in I don’t have any and it’s been broken for three days now. Frustration, because I can’t make the clever blokes understand what’s wrong and they keep asking me the same questions and going round in a loop with the same answers which don’t bloody fix it, and most of all the fact that it’s not perfect is driving me bat-shit crazy.

So it turned me into a basket case and resulted in the unfortunate incident with a sleeve of Jaffa Cakes that I don’t especially even like, I mean they’re chewy and sweet and all that but have never been one of my go to foods. The dog, who was sitting on my knee as I sulked in the armchair and fed my face with one after the other watched closely but he wore a resigned look and didn’t even bother to drool, I mean his doggy intuition told him that none of them had his name on.

They weren’t worth it. And the fact that I’d vaporised a year’s supply just added to my very sour mood. Eating the Jaffa Cakes was never going to resolve the issue, and the sodding thing is indeed still on the blink. Me, I’ve kicked the rusty nail to the side of the path and today I’ll keep on moving forward.

More importantly I’ll keep on doing the work, because times like this show me exactly how far I still have to go 🙁

Like it..? Tell your friends!