Tag Archives: food fuckery

And So It Continues…Just One More Day

In the here & now, ,

I’m still trying to find the loose end that’s making my whole self unravel. Maybe I ate it thinking it was spaghetti, I mean there’s so much food sneaking past my lips it wouldn’t be too hard to miss the fact that I’m actually eating myself.

We did a team building day in the office yesterday and we kind of had to draw out our life in ten minutes on a flip chart. The brief was to be completely honest…oh fuck. That’s never going to end well is it, for a girl with no filter?

I drew a heartbeat right the way across the page, kind of like a heart monitor. I put all the things that make me happy on the peaks of my heartbeat and all the things that make me sad at the lows. All my happy things were friends and family, and handbags and holidays…writing my blog and hanging out in these pages. The lows were jobs I’d hated, and general life bleurgh.

I’m so used to being freakishly honest with you lot, it felt like the most normal thing in the world to talk about food too, and how come it was riding the peaks but also lurking in the depths of the lows. The best of times and the worst of times. How it makes me happy but also very sad. How when I’m over-eating I’m happy because I’m eating, but sad at the same time because I’m not in control. And when I’m not eating I’m sad because I’m not eating but I’m happy at the same time because I am in control.

Then I looked around and realised that every other flipchart life story on the wall had life events and career paths. Mine was the only one with cake. And reading all that back doesn’t make me feel any less of a fucking basket case. I was at work, for fuck’s sake. Not here. Here I can say shit like that…probably not so much so in the office, right? Bet they’ll all be locking up their emergency biscuits from now on.

Anyway, that’s kind of how my week’s shaping up.

I’m at the gin festival on tomorrow with my boy…I’m going to make that my last day of fuckery. I bought him the tickets as part of his Christmas present and we’ll have a really good laugh and hopefully try some artisan gins and specialist tonics. I have no doubt that we’ll stagger home on the train feeling three sheets to the wind and food will definitely be consumed so there’s not even any point in pretending that today will go according to plan.

But Sunday, with you lot chomping at my heels and making me listen to good sense…well. I’m going for a reboot. I so want to pull it off and get back to a world where my every waking thought doesn’t involve food. Or even if it does, a world where I can stick my fingers in my ears and ignore the Asshole voice.

Not before time, in fact way overdue…

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Fat, But Optimistic

In the here & now, ,

So, Wednesday was it, right? I’d planned to take Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day off the diet but I’d made a firm commitment to myself that Wednesday 27th was the cut-off point after which normal sensible non-Christmas eating would resume. Quid pro quo, if you like. Dear Gods of Skinny, you give me three days off and I’ll give you four days on, and I mean on it like a car bonnet. I’ll be all over it. I’ll net out even-stevens next weigh-day and it’ll be like Christmas never happened.

It was a good plan, as plans go. The only problem was, my head didn’t want to get on board with it. At all. I went to bed on Tuesday night feeling as determined as it’s possible to be the night before you start a diet, when your belly’s still full and fat. Trouble is, I woke up on Wednesday panicking about all the nice things that I hadn’t eaten yet and I was sunk before I even got out of bed.

And I found myself pulling that all or nothing shit too. I’m not going swimming today because really, what’s the point? I’ll go tomorrow when I’m back on my food plan, today’s a write-off…

I settled down to write a blog post, and no words came. I’d kind of thought I might ‘fess up about my indiscretions, and talk about moving past them so we could all look forward to the New Year and how we were going to get this skinny shit down once and for all. Except I was still chewing and it felt all wrong, and in the end no words came anyway so I put my laptop away and carried on eating Christmas, plus a bit more for good measure.

Then I cleaned out the fridge, took some chicken out of the freezer to defrost overnight and went to bed hoping for an overnight miracle. In my heart of hearts I was expecting yet another epic battle when I opened my eyes yesterday, you know? Getting day one under my belt is a psychological minefield and it never comes without a fight.

However. Do you know what I got? Nothing. I got nothing. No rebellion, no tantrums and no demands to start my day with a bacon sandwich. Just a quiet acceptance that the diet riot was over, and it was time to behave. And yesterday was flawless. Granted, a day later than planned but the point is, it happened.

I hadn’t been logging food on my off-piste days, so there was a half-hearted whoop whoop from the Asshole voice when I logged in mid way through the week and my app told me I had all my weekly points left plus some rollovers…the actual fuck I do, I’ve probably used up all the weeklies due to me as far as halfway through next year. So I wiped them off and closed down that avenue of food fuckery and he didn’t even put up a fight.

It seems I weathered the storm…I feel good. Fat, but optimistic. I’m ready for the New Year, and the new start, hell I’ve even kick-started things early in the spirit of damage limitation. Read my lips, this is OUR year…we’re heading to Skinny Town, people! 🙂

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Woman Vs Nature: The Stand-Off

In the here & now, ,

So, my apologies to those of you who diligently follow the Shitbird chronicles on a Sunday, all our updates were late yesterday and it was my fault. Kayleigh and Nic both weighed in first thing, and sent me their pictures, but I buggered the system up by insisting that I couldn’t possibly get weighed until I’d had a poo.

Except it didn’t happen. It’s been a few days to be honest, and I feel like crap if you’ll pardon the pun. Really sluggish and bloated, you know? It’s my own fault, my menu choices continue with one foot in sensible and the other in la-la-la not listening…and I know I’m not drinking enough water.

If you’re squeamish about poo stories you might want to give this post a wide berth. I did try my very best, first thing yesterday. I sat and contemplated life for a good half an hour but nice as it was to shut myself in the bathroom with just Charlie-dog for company (he refuses to wait outside and likes to jump in the bath and drink from the tap whilst I’m otherwise engaged) it was a fruitless exercise.

I tried drinking three coffees in quick succession – that normally helps. I was wired, but still nothing. I ate a decent breakfast, on the basis that if everything’s already backed up, more food coming in might result in a bit of exit action, right? Nope.

So then I figured I’d practise a bit of reverse psychology with my own nether regions. Instead of trying everything in my repertoire to persuade my body to give up…well, you know, I made an heroic attempt to ignore the fact that it needed to. Pottered around with everything clenched and refused to try. Well that backfired a bit because even the urge went away and the net result was no news to report.

So I had to hop aboard the Shitbird Scale last night with what feels like a belly full of concrete. Under the circumstances, I was relieved at only a pound and a half on. I don’t think it’s really on, as such…for whatever reason, I think my body’s holding onto everything  I’ve eaten since probably last Wednesday or Thursday. But be fair, that’s more than a bit.

I had a great weekend with my friends, despite having to cut our girly time short by a day on account of the snow which Mother Nature kindly dumped on the doorstep of where we were staying. Foxy Lodge is in the middle of nowhere, and watching the news today it was definitely the right decision to head home, we would’ve been stranded there until at least midweek otherwise.

Whilst we were away I ate good stuff and naughty stuff. We had cocktails at breakfast time on Friday, followed by lots of prosecco in the hot tub surrounded by snow but there was really only one day of utter carnage on account of us coming home earlier than planned. It could’ve been worse. And I had an absolute ball, relaxing and chilling out with my besties and laughing my ass off. It’s done me the world of good and you know what, at the end of the day that’s what matters.

I’ve decided to go back to Weight Watchers…they’ve brought a new plan out and everyone’s raving about it. I often find trying something new helps me tune out the asshole voice when he’s spending way too much time in the driving seat. In the past, switching it up has really helped me to re-focus. Lord only knows I need to. I didn’t get my shit together yesterday, so I’m starting it today.

Two weeks before Christmas. Yeah, I know…that’s what I thought too. But I refuse to hand over the next two weeks to food fuckery without a fight, you know? I could take seven pounds off before the holidays with a strong wind behind me and if it’s not coming off, it’s likely to be going on, and I’m not sitting back and letting that happen. I can’t.

For those of you who follow Weight Watchers I’d be interested to know what you think of the new freestyle programme…? 🙂

 

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