So, just a quick post to say...
Goodbye, 2011! We've had our ups and downs, let's be honest. We started off pretty damn shittily, and it took us a while to get over that, but then some amazing things started to happen, and then we got off our arse and started to make amazing things happen. So all in all, 2011, you've taught me a hell of a lot about myself and what I can do, and I just wanted to say... thanks.
Give my regards to 2010, 2009, 2008, 2007, 2006, 2005, 2004, 2003, and every other year that I've spent still overweight, still pessimistic, still hating myself. Tell them you'll be the last one joining them.
2012 is the year in which I become healthy.
But more about that tomorrow. Right now I'm off to see the new year in with one of my beat school-friends. Life is good.
Happy New Year to you all! If you bother to read my posts, I love you dearly, I really do. :)
Saturday 31 December 2011
Thursday 29 December 2011
Positivity and Porridge
I fucking love porridge. It's warm and soft and creamy, and you can whack whatever you want into it to make it taste awesome, and it's got masses of fibre to keep you full. Porridge is fantastic. I intend to eat more porridge, and also to make more random, experimental flavours. My breakfasts will be phenomenal porridgy wonders.
In less happy news, my thoughts have been pretty negative lately. This is due to a couple of reasons, which I am stepping on right now, because I'd rather be happy, thank you very much. So, from now on, positive thoughts only, please brain. Life's too short to spend worrying and beating yourself up. So you make mistakes; you're only human. Get up, forgive yourself, and move on. Be better today.
In less happy news, my thoughts have been pretty negative lately. This is due to a couple of reasons, which I am stepping on right now, because I'd rather be happy, thank you very much. So, from now on, positive thoughts only, please brain. Life's too short to spend worrying and beating yourself up. So you make mistakes; you're only human. Get up, forgive yourself, and move on. Be better today.
Wednesday 28 December 2011
A list of feeling listless
Assorted thoughts from my brain:
1. I feel sick, physically sick, from my complete lack of self control at the moment. Therefore, I am not touching one single crumb of chocolate today.
2. This house is depressing me. It's far too filled with food I shouldn't eat, and I don't fucking trust the scales.
3. My parents. Have issues. I hate the way they treat each other.
4. I hope I won't be alone for New Year. This time last year was a serious low for me, and I am terrified of feeling the same way again.
5. I wish my friends would let me know when we can meet up. There are three of them I want to see, before I go back to uni in a week, and I worry I won't be able to. Long-standing anxieties about 'what if they don't want to see me?', 'what if our friendship is slowly ebbing away?' are also rearing their ugly little heads. Yes, I have abandonment issues.
6. Today I am not allowed to eat more than 1000 calories. I've already managed to burn half my breakfast onto the pan, so we're off to a good start.
7. Last night I had a mini break-down, curled up in my room, quietly crying to myself. I still haven't learned to bloody reach out to people when I'm upset. But who would I tell? And what would I tell them? When even I don't know why I'm suddenly miserable.
8. I'd think I was hormonal, if not for the fact that I haven't had a period in months. Maybe the hormones run around causing havoc anyway?
9. I just want to smash things. Last night I had a vivid vision of smashing a picture on my wall and setting the broken glass to the skin on my arm. Fuck. It's been almost five years since I last cut... am I going to get these triggers forever?
10. I want to be happy again. I desperately want to go back to uni now and get my control back, but I desperately want to stay here and see my friends. I want to get rid of all my fucking anxieties and fears, I want to be that confident person who doesn't dissolve into self doubt as soon as her friends take a while to text back. I hate being the way I am.
11. There is no thought number 11.
12. I'm going for a run now. I will run for 20 minutes without stopping. I will.
ETA: Ran for 25 minutes. Fuck you, self-doubt.
1. I feel sick, physically sick, from my complete lack of self control at the moment. Therefore, I am not touching one single crumb of chocolate today.
2. This house is depressing me. It's far too filled with food I shouldn't eat, and I don't fucking trust the scales.
3. My parents. Have issues. I hate the way they treat each other.
4. I hope I won't be alone for New Year. This time last year was a serious low for me, and I am terrified of feeling the same way again.
5. I wish my friends would let me know when we can meet up. There are three of them I want to see, before I go back to uni in a week, and I worry I won't be able to. Long-standing anxieties about 'what if they don't want to see me?', 'what if our friendship is slowly ebbing away?' are also rearing their ugly little heads. Yes, I have abandonment issues.
6. Today I am not allowed to eat more than 1000 calories. I've already managed to burn half my breakfast onto the pan, so we're off to a good start.
7. Last night I had a mini break-down, curled up in my room, quietly crying to myself. I still haven't learned to bloody reach out to people when I'm upset. But who would I tell? And what would I tell them? When even I don't know why I'm suddenly miserable.
8. I'd think I was hormonal, if not for the fact that I haven't had a period in months. Maybe the hormones run around causing havoc anyway?
9. I just want to smash things. Last night I had a vivid vision of smashing a picture on my wall and setting the broken glass to the skin on my arm. Fuck. It's been almost five years since I last cut... am I going to get these triggers forever?
10. I want to be happy again. I desperately want to go back to uni now and get my control back, but I desperately want to stay here and see my friends. I want to get rid of all my fucking anxieties and fears, I want to be that confident person who doesn't dissolve into self doubt as soon as her friends take a while to text back. I hate being the way I am.
11. There is no thought number 11.
12. I'm going for a run now. I will run for 20 minutes without stopping. I will.
ETA: Ran for 25 minutes. Fuck you, self-doubt.
Monday 26 December 2011
On the feast of Stephen...
When the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even?
Maybe not, given that it's 13 degrees outside and I'm lounging about in pj bottoms and a shirt. Hurray for not being freezing at Christmas!
In other news - warning, smugness ahead - I had a brilliant run this morning. The new plan for running over the holidays was going to be to do a big circuit around where I live, following a pattern of 5 minutes brisk walking and 5 minutes jogging, for as long as I wanted. This morning, I walked for 5 mins, then jogged for 10, then walked for 5, then jogged for 15. Because I'm a boss.
This may not sound like much (and, objectively, it isn't), but this time last year, hell, even last summer, I was struggling to run for 5 minutes straight. Now I'm within striking distance of running for 30 minutes non-stop. That is my new goal.
And if you'd told me last year that I would purposefully wake up early on Boxing Day, go for a run, and feel fantastic about it... I'd have told you to jog on.
Admittedly, I've been being a bit naughty with food the past few days. I don't really care. I'm not binge-ing insanely, I'm just relaxing a bit. And I know full well that once I head back to uni in a week's time, I'll be right back on the straight and narrow. I'm still calorie counting and exercising and all, but it's nice for a little while to just relax.
The other factor in my slightly relaxed attitude is that coming back to my parents' house has sort of woken me up to how much weight I've lost. Not just because my family have noticed (which I was actually pretty surprised by... oh hello, body dysmorphia, nice to see you're hanging around...), but because I'm looking at myself in different mirrors, wearing old clothes I haven't fitted into in years, and just remembering that the last time I was here, in September, I was a good two and half stone heavier. Now I'm lighter than I've ever been in my life (excepting childhood), and I'm only a stone away from being a 'normal BMI'. This takes some getting-my-head-around.
Moreover (this is a weirdly structured post, sorry!), the bathroom scales here seem to think I'm a good number of pounds lighter than my ones at uni. I don't believe them about this, but it's rather put pay to my fear that as soon as I weighed in on different scales it would transpire that I hadn't lost weight at all and my uni scales were just lying to me. Yes this was something that preyed on my mind. Rather a lot. But no more!
I hope you all are having a wonderful Christmas and, though the weather is hardly being appropriate, I thought I'd share my favourite Christmas carol:
Maybe not, given that it's 13 degrees outside and I'm lounging about in pj bottoms and a shirt. Hurray for not being freezing at Christmas!
In other news - warning, smugness ahead - I had a brilliant run this morning. The new plan for running over the holidays was going to be to do a big circuit around where I live, following a pattern of 5 minutes brisk walking and 5 minutes jogging, for as long as I wanted. This morning, I walked for 5 mins, then jogged for 10, then walked for 5, then jogged for 15. Because I'm a boss.
This may not sound like much (and, objectively, it isn't), but this time last year, hell, even last summer, I was struggling to run for 5 minutes straight. Now I'm within striking distance of running for 30 minutes non-stop. That is my new goal.
And if you'd told me last year that I would purposefully wake up early on Boxing Day, go for a run, and feel fantastic about it... I'd have told you to jog on.
Admittedly, I've been being a bit naughty with food the past few days. I don't really care. I'm not binge-ing insanely, I'm just relaxing a bit. And I know full well that once I head back to uni in a week's time, I'll be right back on the straight and narrow. I'm still calorie counting and exercising and all, but it's nice for a little while to just relax.
The other factor in my slightly relaxed attitude is that coming back to my parents' house has sort of woken me up to how much weight I've lost. Not just because my family have noticed (which I was actually pretty surprised by... oh hello, body dysmorphia, nice to see you're hanging around...), but because I'm looking at myself in different mirrors, wearing old clothes I haven't fitted into in years, and just remembering that the last time I was here, in September, I was a good two and half stone heavier. Now I'm lighter than I've ever been in my life (excepting childhood), and I'm only a stone away from being a 'normal BMI'. This takes some getting-my-head-around.
Moreover (this is a weirdly structured post, sorry!), the bathroom scales here seem to think I'm a good number of pounds lighter than my ones at uni. I don't believe them about this, but it's rather put pay to my fear that as soon as I weighed in on different scales it would transpire that I hadn't lost weight at all and my uni scales were just lying to me. Yes this was something that preyed on my mind. Rather a lot. But no more!
I hope you all are having a wonderful Christmas and, though the weather is hardly being appropriate, I thought I'd share my favourite Christmas carol:
"In the bleak midwinter
Frosty wind made moan
Earth stood hard as iron
Water like a stone
Snow had fallen
Snow on snow
Snow on snow
In the bleak midwinter
Long ago."
Christina Rossetti
Saturday 17 December 2011
If only for one day, let me try...
My absolute favourite Christmas song of all time is:
I think we all reach that stage in life when Christmas... just doesn't feel like Christmas anymore. It ceases to be that amazing, out-of-this-world, go-mad-with-excitement, best day of the year... and becomes more about praying all your relatives will be nice to each other and hoping to get the festivities done with the minimal amount of stress, tension and argument.
Nevertheless, I love Christmas. I love seeing my family, and the traditions, and, of course, the food.
Christmas food. Well, it's been weighing a lot on my mind since I discovered the calorie count of a mince pie. I think Christmas is a bit of a worry for anyone trying to lose weight, and I know a common fear is that one you 'fall off the wagon' over Christmas and New Year, you'll never get back on.
Bollocks to that.
Here are my Christmas plans:
1. Enjoy being with my family. This is the most important thing. No one will enjoy spending Christmas with the person who constantly refuses food and obsessively attempts to calculate calorie counts in their head. Family takes priority over weight-loss, any day.
2. Treat myself. This doesn't mean eat mince pies and brandy butter for a week. This doesn't mean eat a box of chocolates in an afternoon. This means, quite simply, if I fancy a mince pie, I can have one. If I'm offered a chocolate, I can have one. One. What I notice about treating myself is that after the first few bites of a food, you aren't really tasting it anymore, you're just eating it. So, treats! But, small treats.
3. Relax. Do not obsess or feel guilty about calories. I've already pre-logged what I'm likely to eat in my family's turkey dinner tomorrow (our biggest Christmas fest with all the family is a week early), and it's already come to about 1300 calories (blame the Christmas pudding!). Now, this is more than I would aim to eat on a normal day, and this is one meal. I also anticipate perhaps eating some fruit in the morning, and probably a couple of canapes (though I'm making them so I can control exactly what goes into them, as well as not feel obligated to eat them to be polite to the chef), and perhaps a chocolate or two and a drink in the evening. I will end up over my calorie goal. This is a fact. This is not something I am going to stress about.
4. Remember the maths. A pound of fat is 3500 calories. My BMR is 1500 calories. From daily activity, I probably burn no less than 1800 calories. I plan on brisk walking/jogging in the morning to burn at least 200 calories. So, any way I look at it, I can eat about 2000 calories and maintain. Hell, most people do that every day! 2000 calories is not masses. On the other hand, to gain even one pound of fat tomorrow, I would have to eat 5500 calories. I'm not sure I could do that even if I ate the whole damn Christmas pudding. I need to remember this. I'd be the first to admit that my thoughts about eating, food, and calories are not entirely without disorder. And to be honest, after aiming for and 99% of the time sticking to a goal of 1200 for three months... I've sort of got used to it. Anything more feels like over-eating. But it isn't. In fact, my body would probably quite like me to eat a bit over for one day. My body needs a break just as much as my mind does. I need to reassure my body that I'm not going to deny it food forever, and I need to reassure myself that I haven't got myself into such a mental state that I freak out about simply enjoying a special meal with my family.
So, that's it.
I read a lot of people saying things like "my goals don't take a break at Christmas, so neither does my diet", and "it's just a day like any other", and "I'm not going to undo all my work by eating like a pig for one day."
I say again, bollocks to that.
My goal is 'happy and healthy', and that includes enjoying Christmas with my family.
I hope you all enjoy your holidays, however you celebrate them. And remember that they're not something to be feared or dreaded or painstakingly overcome... they're something to be enjoyed, and celebrated, and spent having fun with the people you love.
I think we all reach that stage in life when Christmas... just doesn't feel like Christmas anymore. It ceases to be that amazing, out-of-this-world, go-mad-with-excitement, best day of the year... and becomes more about praying all your relatives will be nice to each other and hoping to get the festivities done with the minimal amount of stress, tension and argument.
Nevertheless, I love Christmas. I love seeing my family, and the traditions, and, of course, the food.
Christmas food. Well, it's been weighing a lot on my mind since I discovered the calorie count of a mince pie. I think Christmas is a bit of a worry for anyone trying to lose weight, and I know a common fear is that one you 'fall off the wagon' over Christmas and New Year, you'll never get back on.
Bollocks to that.
Here are my Christmas plans:
1. Enjoy being with my family. This is the most important thing. No one will enjoy spending Christmas with the person who constantly refuses food and obsessively attempts to calculate calorie counts in their head. Family takes priority over weight-loss, any day.
2. Treat myself. This doesn't mean eat mince pies and brandy butter for a week. This doesn't mean eat a box of chocolates in an afternoon. This means, quite simply, if I fancy a mince pie, I can have one. If I'm offered a chocolate, I can have one. One. What I notice about treating myself is that after the first few bites of a food, you aren't really tasting it anymore, you're just eating it. So, treats! But, small treats.
3. Relax. Do not obsess or feel guilty about calories. I've already pre-logged what I'm likely to eat in my family's turkey dinner tomorrow (our biggest Christmas fest with all the family is a week early), and it's already come to about 1300 calories (blame the Christmas pudding!). Now, this is more than I would aim to eat on a normal day, and this is one meal. I also anticipate perhaps eating some fruit in the morning, and probably a couple of canapes (though I'm making them so I can control exactly what goes into them, as well as not feel obligated to eat them to be polite to the chef), and perhaps a chocolate or two and a drink in the evening. I will end up over my calorie goal. This is a fact. This is not something I am going to stress about.
4. Remember the maths. A pound of fat is 3500 calories. My BMR is 1500 calories. From daily activity, I probably burn no less than 1800 calories. I plan on brisk walking/jogging in the morning to burn at least 200 calories. So, any way I look at it, I can eat about 2000 calories and maintain. Hell, most people do that every day! 2000 calories is not masses. On the other hand, to gain even one pound of fat tomorrow, I would have to eat 5500 calories. I'm not sure I could do that even if I ate the whole damn Christmas pudding. I need to remember this. I'd be the first to admit that my thoughts about eating, food, and calories are not entirely without disorder. And to be honest, after aiming for and 99% of the time sticking to a goal of 1200 for three months... I've sort of got used to it. Anything more feels like over-eating. But it isn't. In fact, my body would probably quite like me to eat a bit over for one day. My body needs a break just as much as my mind does. I need to reassure my body that I'm not going to deny it food forever, and I need to reassure myself that I haven't got myself into such a mental state that I freak out about simply enjoying a special meal with my family.
So, that's it.
I read a lot of people saying things like "my goals don't take a break at Christmas, so neither does my diet", and "it's just a day like any other", and "I'm not going to undo all my work by eating like a pig for one day."
I say again, bollocks to that.
My goal is 'happy and healthy', and that includes enjoying Christmas with my family.
I hope you all enjoy your holidays, however you celebrate them. And remember that they're not something to be feared or dreaded or painstakingly overcome... they're something to be enjoyed, and celebrated, and spent having fun with the people you love.
"Give me one more chance to dream again,
One more chance to feel again
Through your young heart.
If only for one day, let me try...
I want to see Christmas through your eyes
I want everything to be
The way it used to be
Back to being a child again
Thinking the world was mine
I want to see Christmas
Christmas through your eyes."
Tuesday 13 December 2011
And time will make fools of us all
Like ships in the night
You keep passing me by
There's you and me
And all other people
And I don't know why
I can't keep my eyes off of you.
Help
I have done it again
I have been here so many times, before.
Hurt
Myself again, today
And the worst part is
There's no one else to blame
Be my friend.
Hold me.
Wrap me up.
Unfold me.
I am small, and needy
Warm me up
And breathe me.
I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming your name
Like a fool
At the top of my lungs
You'll try to hit me
Just to hurt me
So you leave me feeling dirty
'Cause you can't understand.
How I need to hear you
Hear you so softly
Hear you say anything...
Every single tear you shed
Well it kills me.
I've said it so many times
I would change my ways
No, never mind
God knows I've tried.
I'm not perfect
But I keep trying
'Cause that's what I said I would do
From the start
I'm not alive if I'm lonely
So please tell me
Was it something I said
Or just my personality?
And I can't find my breath
Can we just say the rest with no sound?
The tears are coming down
They're mixing with the rain
I know I love you
If that's all we can take.
May I hold you
As you fall asleep
When the world is closing in
And you can't breathe.
May I love you?
What about now?
What about today?
What if you're making me all that I was meant to be?
Why are you looking for love?
Why are you still searching
As if I'm not enough?
What hurts the most
Was being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
When the tears fall away
And there's no conversation.
There's nothing left to break
That's not already broken.
Call me a sinner
Call me a saint
Tell me it's over
I'll still love you the same.
This is life without you
Learning how to miss you
I guess I'll need to know
How it feels like
This is life without you
I told myself I won't miss you
But I remember
What it feels like beside you.
I've looked at love
From both sides now
From up and down
But still somehow
It's
Love's illusions
I recall
I really don't know love at all
I thought I saw a sign, somewhere between the lines
But maybe it's me,
Maybe I only see what I want
Well I still have your letter
Just got caught between
Someone I just invented, who I really am, and who I've become
So lately
Been wondering
Who will be there to take my place?
I heard that your dreams came true
Guess she gave you things
I couldn't give to you.
Now they're going to bed
And my stomach is sick
And it's all in my head but she's touching his chest now
He takes off her dress
Now
Let me go.
It's just a drop in the ocean
A change in the weather
I was
Praying that you and me might
End up together
It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert.
And I think you should know this:
You deserve much better than me.
It's a quarter after one
I'm all alone
And I need you now.
If I could find the years that went away
I must believe that love will find a way
Tonight.
Lonely, finds me, one day
You will come.
And I'll wait, for love's sake
One day
To be
Loved.
Please, please, please
Let me
Let me
Let me
Get what I want
I find peace when I'm confused
And I find hope when I'm let down
Not in me
In you
It's in you.
I meant what I said when I said "till my dying day"
I'm holding onto you
Holding onto me
Maybe it's all gone black but you're all I see.
And I'll be at your side
Wherever you're falling
Dead of night
Whenever you're calling
So please don't fight these hands that are holding you.
I do want you to know
I hold you up above everyone
And I do want you to know
I think
You'd be good to me
I'd be so good to you.
Time won't ever steal my soul
We're not broken
So please come home.
If the world has
Worn you down
I'll be waiting
So please come home.
Yeah, all the things that you are
Beautifully broken
Alive in my heart
Know that you are everything
Let your heart sing and
Tonight, we'll light up the stars.
I hate to turn up out of the blue
Uninvited, but I
Couldn't stay away
I couldn't fight it, I
Hoped you'd see my face
And that you'd be reminded that for me
It isn't over.
It's easier to be broken
It's easier to hide.
Looking at you
Holding my breath, for
Once in my life
I'm scared to death
I'm taking a chance
Letting you inside.
If I could
Then I would
I'll go wherever you will go
Way up high
Or down low
I'll go wherever you will go.
If I could
Turn
Back
Time
I'll go wherever you will go.
My dear,
We're
Slow dancing
In a burning room
It is you I have loved
All along.
It was five years ago today.
A lot has changed since then.
But what I realised then, how I feel about you... that hasn't.
I know you'll never see me that way.
I know you're happy.
I know one day I will watch you get married, and live and love and treasure your life.
And I want that for you will all my heart.
But for now just let me say:
I love you.
And, I'm yours.
Monday 12 December 2011
Plato, eat your heart out!
So the mind-body problem has provided philosophers with fodder for rambling since... well, they began to ramble. Plato (with whom I have a somewhat difficult relationship) favoured the elevation of the rational mind over the sensory body, very roughly speaking. Most philosophers, with the exception of hedonists (who are fun, if you're in that sort of mood), tend to take a similar line. Listen to the mind, not the body.
However, this tends to create issues when your mind is as fucked up a place as mine happens to be. Hence the new strategy: listen to the body, because the mind has no idea what it's on about.
Take this afternoon, for instance.
Body: I'm hungry. Feed me.
Mind: What? You've had breakfast and lunch and a snack and even a naughty sweet. I can't feed you now, we need to save calories for later or we'll go over!
Body: But I'm hungry!
Mind: You just ate!
Body: But you only gave me a hundred and fifty calories. Zoom, it's gone.
Mind: Where? Why has it gone? Get a grip. If I feed you now, you'll be starving later when I'm trying to sleep and then neither of us will be happy. You don't need more calories, you've had plenty.
Body: I've had seven hundred. And you took me swimming for an hour this morning. And then walked me for three miles. And you want to take me dancing all this evening. I. Need. More. Food.
Mind: Why??
Body: Because you're starving me with your stubborn numerical obsession. Now shut up.
Mind: But-
Body: No. Really. Shut up. Go and buy me a sandwich.
So it turns out I should listen to my body more often. It talks more sense than I give it credit for.
However, this tends to create issues when your mind is as fucked up a place as mine happens to be. Hence the new strategy: listen to the body, because the mind has no idea what it's on about.
Take this afternoon, for instance.
Body: I'm hungry. Feed me.
Mind: What? You've had breakfast and lunch and a snack and even a naughty sweet. I can't feed you now, we need to save calories for later or we'll go over!
Body: But I'm hungry!
Mind: You just ate!
Body: But you only gave me a hundred and fifty calories. Zoom, it's gone.
Mind: Where? Why has it gone? Get a grip. If I feed you now, you'll be starving later when I'm trying to sleep and then neither of us will be happy. You don't need more calories, you've had plenty.
Body: I've had seven hundred. And you took me swimming for an hour this morning. And then walked me for three miles. And you want to take me dancing all this evening. I. Need. More. Food.
Mind: Why??
Body: Because you're starving me with your stubborn numerical obsession. Now shut up.
Mind: But-
Body: No. Really. Shut up. Go and buy me a sandwich.
So it turns out I should listen to my body more often. It talks more sense than I give it credit for.
Sunday 11 December 2011
I'll keep you my dirty little secret.
My thighs seriously hurt. I started doing some deeper lunges and stuff as part of my circuit training workout a couple of days ago, and man... You probably know what I mean.
In addition, I'm seriously ready for it to be Christmas already, forget all this still having to work business. I want to curl up in front of a fire and drink gallons of hot chocolate. Not helped by the house being full of bad bad foods at the moment since my housemate had a Christmas party last night. I'm trying to summon the will power to leave her to eat the way through the half chocolate cake, mini stollens, cupcakes, and plate of mince pies that are lying so temptingly in our kitchen. We'll see.
So to sum up, my thighs hurt and I'm feeling guilty over the two mini stollen I stole (Christmas puns ftw) today. My blog is so interesting, innit? Full of crap that no one needs to know! Oh well.
In the spirit of being more interesting, and perhaps entertaining you all, dear internet people, let me present you with ten facts you don't need to know that absolutely no one else knows about me.
You excited yet? I know. Here goes...
1. I will sing along loudly and enthusiastically to Disney songs if left in the house alone.
2. I am extremely skittish, to the point that if my phone beeps in my pocket, I noticeably jump and let out a small yelp, and I unconsciously tense up when people I don't know come near me.
3. I was spanked in a fetish club by a lovely domme named Fiona. I felt gorgeous and had bruises for two weeks.
4. I talk to myself, often, and when I do I refer to myself as 'kid'. Or occasionally, 'lass'.
5. I think rats are beautiful.
6. I was once offered a job as a prostitute.
7. I'm desperately in love with someone who will never see me in the same way.
8. I'm afraid of jellyfish, anger, taxis, and hares.
9. When I have seriously bad spells of nightmares, I set alarms for every hour and a half during the night so I wake up before I get deep enough asleep for dreaming. I perfected this technique when I was thirteen.
10. There are seven people in the world for whom I would glady give my life. Without a second's hesitation. In absolute, honest sincerity.
In addition, I'm seriously ready for it to be Christmas already, forget all this still having to work business. I want to curl up in front of a fire and drink gallons of hot chocolate. Not helped by the house being full of bad bad foods at the moment since my housemate had a Christmas party last night. I'm trying to summon the will power to leave her to eat the way through the half chocolate cake, mini stollens, cupcakes, and plate of mince pies that are lying so temptingly in our kitchen. We'll see.
So to sum up, my thighs hurt and I'm feeling guilty over the two mini stollen I stole (Christmas puns ftw) today. My blog is so interesting, innit? Full of crap that no one needs to know! Oh well.
In the spirit of being more interesting, and perhaps entertaining you all, dear internet people, let me present you with ten facts you don't need to know that absolutely no one else knows about me.
You excited yet? I know. Here goes...
1. I will sing along loudly and enthusiastically to Disney songs if left in the house alone.
2. I am extremely skittish, to the point that if my phone beeps in my pocket, I noticeably jump and let out a small yelp, and I unconsciously tense up when people I don't know come near me.
3. I was spanked in a fetish club by a lovely domme named Fiona. I felt gorgeous and had bruises for two weeks.
4. I talk to myself, often, and when I do I refer to myself as 'kid'. Or occasionally, 'lass'.
5. I think rats are beautiful.
6. I was once offered a job as a prostitute.
7. I'm desperately in love with someone who will never see me in the same way.
8. I'm afraid of jellyfish, anger, taxis, and hares.
9. When I have seriously bad spells of nightmares, I set alarms for every hour and a half during the night so I wake up before I get deep enough asleep for dreaming. I perfected this technique when I was thirteen.
10. There are seven people in the world for whom I would glady give my life. Without a second's hesitation. In absolute, honest sincerity.
Saturday 3 December 2011
Wherein I tell the history of matters most weighty
This past week has been full of (very enjoyable) potential pitfalls, such as lunch with friends and my flatmate cooking me dinner, but I either circumvented them more adeptly than I thought or else massively overcompensated, because the scales this morning told me I'd lost 3 pounds. Who am I to argue? (In actual fact, I got on and off the scales several times, because I didn't quite believe it.)
So I'm now officially more than two stones down since September. Somewhat in a daze, I went for my run this morning, and the sky was completely clear and blue and it was lovely and cold (yes, I'm odd, I love running in the cold), and I saw a heron, two pheasants, three rabbits, a squirrel, and a robin, and everything was just so peaceful and calm. The world is beautiful, sometimes. And it always takes me by surprise.
So Tempest was lovely enough to leave a comment on my last post about my positive attitude. This really touched me, since it brought home just how positive my attitude has actually been since I've been losing. And actually, being so positive is pretty damn unusual for me.
I've been overweight for as long as I remember. Up until I was about 12, I never thought I could change it, 'fat' was just part of what I was. But with teenage-ery came, as you might expect, experiments in dieting, along with a fair dosage of angst-taken-to-extremes. The time between when I was 13 and 16 was mostly made up of yo-yo weight loss and gain between around 180-210 lb, self-injury (although this stopped shortly before I turned 15), rock-bottom self-esteem, and a lack of interest in caring for myself that I would do things like go over a week without showering, not brush my teeth in months, and miscellaneous other seemingly-random ways I subconsciously found to sabotage my own health and happiness.
When I lost weight back then, it was because I restricted as much as I could force myself to. I didn't count calories actually, though. Never really been sure why. But anyway, when I was severely restricting, I ate maybe half a cheese or tuna sandwich and a couple of pieces of fruit in a day. Now, with my newly-acquired and increasingly-encyclopedic calorie counting knowledge, I guess I must have been eating about 300 cals. So it's no wonder I lost weight. And it's no bloody wonder I could never keep it up for very long! But when I was motivated, I was pretty darn motivated (well, you have to be), but my motivation was overwhelmingly negative. When I was hungry, I'd tell myself: "You deserve this. You deserve for it to hurt." and "You don't need to eat. Look at all the fat on you!". And when I ate, I'd tell myself: "You're pathetic. You're weak. You can't even control what you shove into your face." and "You're a failure." And when the weight began to creep back on again, I'd tell myself: "You're always going to be fat. Fat and ugly. You'd better get used to it." and "You were an idiot for thinking you could change."
Working against those kinds of thoughts is an up-hill struggle, and I doubt that I'll ever quite reach the top of the hill. Or maybe I will. I can hope. I'm certainly a lot higher up the slope than ever before. I've heard it said often than losing weight doesn't solve your emotional issues, and, no, it doesn't. I still have those thoughts, and I still have moments that make me feel like I haven't progressed at all from the girl I was six years ago.
But I'm learning to tell those thoughts to fuck right off. Because hating yourself isn't fun, and it's cast such a pall over what could have been even more amazing years of my life, and it's seriously screwed up the way I think and the way I approach other people, and it's made me miss so many opportunities.
So when I decided I was going to sort my life out, following a number of happenstances this past year that I might write about at some point but now is not the time, I actually sat down and swore to myself that if, at any point, for any reason, or in any way, attempting to lose weight began to negatively impact my physical, mental, or emotional health, I would stop, or at least alter what I was doing. Because I want to be healthy here and I want to be happy, and, furthermore, I'm trying to study for a degree- which I'm not going to be able to do with any measure of success if I'm exhausted, run-down, ill, irritable, unable to concentrate, self-harmful or depressed.
So I've practically built it into a contract with myself that I'm going to have a positive attitude. And actually, it's been working! I mean, most of the time, at least! And obviously it's helped by the fact that I've been pretty successful at losing weight: almost 30 pounds since the end of September isn't bad, after all! And it's helped by me keeping busy and making myself be more social and outgoing. And it's helped by just eating more healthily, actually keeping hydrated, and trying to get outside to exercise every day.
But the really central thing to it, I know, is just this: whenever my negative attitudes rear their ugly heads, I beat them with metaphorical sticks.
I have hope.
I can change my life, and I can change my appearance, and one day I will look at myself in the mirror and smile, not only because I like the way I look, but because I will be just damn happy to be me.
And in the words of poet, Derek Walcott:
So I'm now officially more than two stones down since September. Somewhat in a daze, I went for my run this morning, and the sky was completely clear and blue and it was lovely and cold (yes, I'm odd, I love running in the cold), and I saw a heron, two pheasants, three rabbits, a squirrel, and a robin, and everything was just so peaceful and calm. The world is beautiful, sometimes. And it always takes me by surprise.
So Tempest was lovely enough to leave a comment on my last post about my positive attitude. This really touched me, since it brought home just how positive my attitude has actually been since I've been losing. And actually, being so positive is pretty damn unusual for me.
I've been overweight for as long as I remember. Up until I was about 12, I never thought I could change it, 'fat' was just part of what I was. But with teenage-ery came, as you might expect, experiments in dieting, along with a fair dosage of angst-taken-to-extremes. The time between when I was 13 and 16 was mostly made up of yo-yo weight loss and gain between around 180-210 lb, self-injury (although this stopped shortly before I turned 15), rock-bottom self-esteem, and a lack of interest in caring for myself that I would do things like go over a week without showering, not brush my teeth in months, and miscellaneous other seemingly-random ways I subconsciously found to sabotage my own health and happiness.
When I lost weight back then, it was because I restricted as much as I could force myself to. I didn't count calories actually, though. Never really been sure why. But anyway, when I was severely restricting, I ate maybe half a cheese or tuna sandwich and a couple of pieces of fruit in a day. Now, with my newly-acquired and increasingly-encyclopedic calorie counting knowledge, I guess I must have been eating about 300 cals. So it's no wonder I lost weight. And it's no bloody wonder I could never keep it up for very long! But when I was motivated, I was pretty darn motivated (well, you have to be), but my motivation was overwhelmingly negative. When I was hungry, I'd tell myself: "You deserve this. You deserve for it to hurt." and "You don't need to eat. Look at all the fat on you!". And when I ate, I'd tell myself: "You're pathetic. You're weak. You can't even control what you shove into your face." and "You're a failure." And when the weight began to creep back on again, I'd tell myself: "You're always going to be fat. Fat and ugly. You'd better get used to it." and "You were an idiot for thinking you could change."
Working against those kinds of thoughts is an up-hill struggle, and I doubt that I'll ever quite reach the top of the hill. Or maybe I will. I can hope. I'm certainly a lot higher up the slope than ever before. I've heard it said often than losing weight doesn't solve your emotional issues, and, no, it doesn't. I still have those thoughts, and I still have moments that make me feel like I haven't progressed at all from the girl I was six years ago.
But I'm learning to tell those thoughts to fuck right off. Because hating yourself isn't fun, and it's cast such a pall over what could have been even more amazing years of my life, and it's seriously screwed up the way I think and the way I approach other people, and it's made me miss so many opportunities.
So when I decided I was going to sort my life out, following a number of happenstances this past year that I might write about at some point but now is not the time, I actually sat down and swore to myself that if, at any point, for any reason, or in any way, attempting to lose weight began to negatively impact my physical, mental, or emotional health, I would stop, or at least alter what I was doing. Because I want to be healthy here and I want to be happy, and, furthermore, I'm trying to study for a degree- which I'm not going to be able to do with any measure of success if I'm exhausted, run-down, ill, irritable, unable to concentrate, self-harmful or depressed.
So I've practically built it into a contract with myself that I'm going to have a positive attitude. And actually, it's been working! I mean, most of the time, at least! And obviously it's helped by the fact that I've been pretty successful at losing weight: almost 30 pounds since the end of September isn't bad, after all! And it's helped by me keeping busy and making myself be more social and outgoing. And it's helped by just eating more healthily, actually keeping hydrated, and trying to get outside to exercise every day.
But the really central thing to it, I know, is just this: whenever my negative attitudes rear their ugly heads, I beat them with metaphorical sticks.
I have hope.
I can change my life, and I can change my appearance, and one day I will look at myself in the mirror and smile, not only because I like the way I look, but because I will be just damn happy to be me.
And in the words of poet, Derek Walcott:
The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was yourself.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life,
whom you ignored for another,
who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
Friday 25 November 2011
And... breathe.
Wow. Okay, so this week has been a bit of a rollercoaster. It started on a major high, sunk to the lowest low I've had in months and months, and now I'm riding upwards to optimism again. Just goes to show, I should take everything more slowly and just breathe a bit more and just stop and think, and I think I should go a bit easier on myself too. I need to allow myself a little bit of failure, a little bit of lost willpower, a little leeway to be weak.
I don't have to be perfect.
But I do have to keep trying.
Weight loss is a slow thing. And the more weight you lose, the slower it goes.
That's fine. That's good.
In the end, it doesn't matter one bit how slow it goes, so long as it goes! So long as I'm not gaining, I am one happy cat.
(That's a happy cat.)
Heee...
I don't have to be perfect.
But I do have to keep trying.
Weight loss is a slow thing. And the more weight you lose, the slower it goes.
That's fine. That's good.
In the end, it doesn't matter one bit how slow it goes, so long as it goes! So long as I'm not gaining, I am one happy cat.
(That's a happy cat.)
Heee...
Wednesday 23 November 2011
Fuck.
So... this evening has not gone well.
It started with hunger. So I ate, and then ate a bit more, then nibbled a bit more, then snacked, and ate and ate and ate, and by Christ I feel sick... what in seven hells did I do that for?
Fuck, I knew it wasn't natural for me to go so long without fucking up, and now it's just been one short spiral down into fully fucking breaking down. I was getting self-harm urges half an hour ago, that's how low I've gone. I haven't cut in years, but I don't think the urges ever go away. They get rarer, sure, but when they come back, suddenly I'm that pathetic 13 year old again, hating herself enough to rip her body apart. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck.
Now I'm crying. I'm curled up in my bed listening to songs that I know will make me cry, letting my thoughts go all the places they're not meant to go- to her, and her, and him, and them, and me and me and me, and that time, and those days, and that place, and fuck fuck fuck fuck
And so on and so forth. (You can imagine an interval about now while I hyperventilate a bit and sob into my hands.)
What if I can't actually do this? What if I'm always going to be this way? It all felt a bit like a dream, all this progress... how quickly might it reverse? Christ, I'm tired, I'm so tired of being me, I'm so fucking sick of my little idiosyncracies, my little issues, my bloody fucked up mind, how did I get this way? What made me this way? Why am I so fucking unnatural?
Ugh.
I need you, where are you? Where are you? Why don't you need me too? Please. Please. Help me. I need you. I need you.
It started with hunger. So I ate, and then ate a bit more, then nibbled a bit more, then snacked, and ate and ate and ate, and by Christ I feel sick... what in seven hells did I do that for?
Fuck, I knew it wasn't natural for me to go so long without fucking up, and now it's just been one short spiral down into fully fucking breaking down. I was getting self-harm urges half an hour ago, that's how low I've gone. I haven't cut in years, but I don't think the urges ever go away. They get rarer, sure, but when they come back, suddenly I'm that pathetic 13 year old again, hating herself enough to rip her body apart. Fuck. Fuck.
Fuck.
Now I'm crying. I'm curled up in my bed listening to songs that I know will make me cry, letting my thoughts go all the places they're not meant to go- to her, and her, and him, and them, and me and me and me, and that time, and those days, and that place, and fuck fuck fuck fuck
And so on and so forth. (You can imagine an interval about now while I hyperventilate a bit and sob into my hands.)
What if I can't actually do this? What if I'm always going to be this way? It all felt a bit like a dream, all this progress... how quickly might it reverse? Christ, I'm tired, I'm so tired of being me, I'm so fucking sick of my little idiosyncracies, my little issues, my bloody fucked up mind, how did I get this way? What made me this way? Why am I so fucking unnatural?
Ugh.
I need you, where are you? Where are you? Why don't you need me too? Please. Please. Help me. I need you. I need you.
Eh?
What on earth is going on? I've been eating as usual (in fact a little more than I was eating last week) for the past few days, and my stomach won't shut up with rumbling. No matter what I put into it- fibre, wholegrains, protein, starchy carbs, etc. etc... an hour later it's growling at me again! I exercised quite a bit yesterday, but I've spent most of today in the library, and I've eaten three square meals along with snacks.
What the hell, stomach? Shut up and stop pestering me.
Miffed.
What the hell, stomach? Shut up and stop pestering me.
Miffed.
Saturday 19 November 2011
Will wonders never cease?
So this morning was my weigh-in, and I'm down three pounds. Woot!
And as if this wasn't enough to brighten my day, I decided to look for a long jumper/dress type thing whilst I was in town, and found some really nice ones. So since the sizes looked pretty big and chunky, I thought I'd start with a 14 (since I tried a size 14 jacket last week and, amazingly, it fit). And then, being in a gleeful mood from my weigh-in, I thought: "What the hell, I'll try a 12 too, just for laughs."
The 14 was a bit big, the 12 fit well, but it wasn't exactly tight! So after a few moments of obsessively checking the labels to make sure they were actually those sizes, I thought "Well the world has clearly gone insane, so why not throw all sense to the wind and try a 10?"
10. I have never worn a size 10. I went straight from children's clothes to size 12, and then very quickly to 14, 16, 18, and so forth. In fact, when I was younger I didn't even understand how clothes sizing worked. At first, I thought size 12 was for 12 year-olds. (I also remember when I stopped thinking this: I was buying a skirt from a chap at a market stall and I picked a size 12 and he looked at it and looked at me and laughed and said 'you sure you have the right size?' I bought it anyway and it fit, just about. Silly man...) After that I just ignored sizes and picked up whatever hanger was at the back of the rail since the largest were always at the back. And I figured this was because the ugly clothes for ugly people were kept at the back out of sight. I have clothes somewhere that are sizes 20, 22, and 24, although I've never actually been that size, simply because I used to think that I must be the fattest size available, so I just picked the biggest clothes, was so relieved when they fit (not really seeing that they were far too big!), and bought them anyway.
But long story short... me in a size 10? That's a crazy idea.
Crazy.
And as if this wasn't enough to brighten my day, I decided to look for a long jumper/dress type thing whilst I was in town, and found some really nice ones. So since the sizes looked pretty big and chunky, I thought I'd start with a 14 (since I tried a size 14 jacket last week and, amazingly, it fit). And then, being in a gleeful mood from my weigh-in, I thought: "What the hell, I'll try a 12 too, just for laughs."
The 14 was a bit big, the 12 fit well, but it wasn't exactly tight! So after a few moments of obsessively checking the labels to make sure they were actually those sizes, I thought "Well the world has clearly gone insane, so why not throw all sense to the wind and try a 10?"
10. I have never worn a size 10. I went straight from children's clothes to size 12, and then very quickly to 14, 16, 18, and so forth. In fact, when I was younger I didn't even understand how clothes sizing worked. At first, I thought size 12 was for 12 year-olds. (I also remember when I stopped thinking this: I was buying a skirt from a chap at a market stall and I picked a size 12 and he looked at it and looked at me and laughed and said 'you sure you have the right size?' I bought it anyway and it fit, just about. Silly man...) After that I just ignored sizes and picked up whatever hanger was at the back of the rail since the largest were always at the back. And I figured this was because the ugly clothes for ugly people were kept at the back out of sight. I have clothes somewhere that are sizes 20, 22, and 24, although I've never actually been that size, simply because I used to think that I must be the fattest size available, so I just picked the biggest clothes, was so relieved when they fit (not really seeing that they were far too big!), and bought them anyway.
But long story short... me in a size 10? That's a crazy idea.
Now, I know it's a little small on me at the moment, and it's a jumper, and it's a chunky style, and sizes vary wildly, so it's probably way bigger than a 'normal' size 10, but still...
Crazy.
Wednesday 16 November 2011
Bacon!
So, I just had a bacon and egg sandwich, and it cost me no more than 250 calories. What is up with the universe?
When I started restricting, there were some things that I cut out of my diet without even bothering to check their calorie count: pizza, cheesecake, biscuits, and bacon, to name but a few.
And all was well and dandy (apart from the cheesecake cravings...) until I casually picked up a pack of back bacon in a supermarket and looked at the nutritional info.
"70 calories a rasher," I read.
Intrigued, I put it down, and picked up some bacon medallions (like normal bacon, but without the weird extension with the annoying fat that I always cut of anyway... wow, bacon is hard to explain without sounding like a lunatic), and read...
"31 calories a rasher."
Holy shit. When did the world turn upside down?? Suffice to say, they were deposited in my basket in a somewhat dazed state. (As in, I was dazed, not the bacon.)
So I fried two rashers and an egg in a spray or two of FryLight, and had then with two slices of Weightwatchers Malted Danish bread (I don't use Weightwatchers, and frankly I don't even understand them - what is god's name are 'points', I ask you? We already have units for measuring food, more than enough in fact, chiefly grams and calories. So be off without your 'points'. Crazy people. But anyway, the bread - it's 51 calories a slice. What's not to like?), and for less than 250 calories and a full 22g of protein, I seem to have made a bacon and egg sandwich healthy...
Win.
Apologies for slightly random post, and also for strange frequency of parentheses- (apparently I have lots to say today).
When I started restricting, there were some things that I cut out of my diet without even bothering to check their calorie count: pizza, cheesecake, biscuits, and bacon, to name but a few.
And all was well and dandy (apart from the cheesecake cravings...) until I casually picked up a pack of back bacon in a supermarket and looked at the nutritional info.
"70 calories a rasher," I read.
Intrigued, I put it down, and picked up some bacon medallions (like normal bacon, but without the weird extension with the annoying fat that I always cut of anyway... wow, bacon is hard to explain without sounding like a lunatic), and read...
"31 calories a rasher."
Holy shit. When did the world turn upside down?? Suffice to say, they were deposited in my basket in a somewhat dazed state. (As in, I was dazed, not the bacon.)
So I fried two rashers and an egg in a spray or two of FryLight, and had then with two slices of Weightwatchers Malted Danish bread (I don't use Weightwatchers, and frankly I don't even understand them - what is god's name are 'points', I ask you? We already have units for measuring food, more than enough in fact, chiefly grams and calories. So be off without your 'points'. Crazy people. But anyway, the bread - it's 51 calories a slice. What's not to like?), and for less than 250 calories and a full 22g of protein, I seem to have made a bacon and egg sandwich healthy...
Win.
Apologies for slightly random post, and also for strange frequency of parentheses- (apparently I have lots to say today).
Friday 4 November 2011
Baby steps
So, I just weighed in where I hoped I would, and YAY!! for three reasons:
1. I am now officially (well, BMI official) no longer obese! I'm now merely overweight. Yay for small achievements!
2. I've now lost a stone and a half in total, and since I've got three more to lose to meet my current goal, that means I'm a third of the way there.
3. I'm now down to roughly my lowest weight since I entered teenage-ery. The last time I weighed about this much was Winter 2007, which was one of the most anxiously happy times of my life. This time, I'm going lower, and happier.
So this coming week, I'm not going to be obsessing over calories. Hopefully if I eat up to my maintenance for a little while, it'll surprise my metabolism and shake things up again. My loss has definitely been slowing the more my body adjusts to eating less.
So excited for this week, it'll be so nice to get away for a bit and de-stress. Determined not to ruin it through panic over food. Anyway, I'd have to eat 10500 calories over my BMR to gain back those 3 pounds I just lost. And even that wouldn't be disasterous. Whatever is gained can be lost again.
In that spirit, here's some pretty relaxing music:
1. I am now officially (well, BMI official) no longer obese! I'm now merely overweight. Yay for small achievements!
2. I've now lost a stone and a half in total, and since I've got three more to lose to meet my current goal, that means I'm a third of the way there.
3. I'm now down to roughly my lowest weight since I entered teenage-ery. The last time I weighed about this much was Winter 2007, which was one of the most anxiously happy times of my life. This time, I'm going lower, and happier.
So this coming week, I'm not going to be obsessing over calories. Hopefully if I eat up to my maintenance for a little while, it'll surprise my metabolism and shake things up again. My loss has definitely been slowing the more my body adjusts to eating less.
So excited for this week, it'll be so nice to get away for a bit and de-stress. Determined not to ruin it through panic over food. Anyway, I'd have to eat 10500 calories over my BMR to gain back those 3 pounds I just lost. And even that wouldn't be disasterous. Whatever is gained can be lost again.
In that spirit, here's some pretty relaxing music:
Monday 31 October 2011
Calm down, love, it's only a dream!
So the insomnia seems to have wandered off, but I had a pretty weird and fairly horrible dream last night concerning a certain male whom I may tell you more of another time. What he was doing in the dream apparently means I'm 'feeling an emotional burned from this person' or 'low self-worth'. No kidding. At least in the dream I was running away from him. No matter, I'll take dreams over insomnia, I'm more used to them.
In good news, I did swimming and dancing today and ate pretty well, so I'm feeling good! And the two essays I wrote over the weekend have turned out, on re-reading, to not be utter shit. Woot! Only three more days of work to do and then I get a whole week off... bliss. Although it will probably be a week of not eating so little or moving so much, so I'm writing it off as maintence now. Had a STS with this week's weigh in, which was slightly disappointing, but I was a bit bad last week... and it's my TOTM... or it would be, if I were having one, but it appears nature is giving me a miss this month. Hardly surprising, I suppose.
I've had a pretty fun couple of days actually, odd things aside. I love how positive my mindset is these days. Yesterday I was walking down the street and a van pulled up beside me and a guy leaned out and shouted 'Hey you! Hey! You're ugly!', and then looked really bemused when I smiled at him. And I smiled because I was thinking: "Of course I am, mate, but not so much as I used to be. Whereas you, evidently, are just as much of a prick as you've always been."
So life is good. And so long as I manage to lose something by the end of this week, I'll be at my first goal thing. More on that when I get there.
And now, because life can always use a bit more Tim Minchin...
In good news, I did swimming and dancing today and ate pretty well, so I'm feeling good! And the two essays I wrote over the weekend have turned out, on re-reading, to not be utter shit. Woot! Only three more days of work to do and then I get a whole week off... bliss. Although it will probably be a week of not eating so little or moving so much, so I'm writing it off as maintence now. Had a STS with this week's weigh in, which was slightly disappointing, but I was a bit bad last week... and it's my TOTM... or it would be, if I were having one, but it appears nature is giving me a miss this month. Hardly surprising, I suppose.
I've had a pretty fun couple of days actually, odd things aside. I love how positive my mindset is these days. Yesterday I was walking down the street and a van pulled up beside me and a guy leaned out and shouted 'Hey you! Hey! You're ugly!', and then looked really bemused when I smiled at him. And I smiled because I was thinking: "Of course I am, mate, but not so much as I used to be. Whereas you, evidently, are just as much of a prick as you've always been."
So life is good. And so long as I manage to lose something by the end of this week, I'll be at my first goal thing. More on that when I get there.
And now, because life can always use a bit more Tim Minchin...
Thursday 27 October 2011
This is a bit weird...
So today I went over my calorie goal for the first time in five weeks. I kinda knew I would and also I intentionally didn't obsess over calories today because a) I had to give a presentation in one of my tutorials that has been seriously stressing me out for weeks anfd consequently was a thinly-disguised nervous wreck all morning, b) my inconvenient insomnia is rearing its head again and I just need food for energy, and c) my brother is visiting so I took him out for a meal for lunch, and promptly pounced on the breaded brie.
So partly I went over my goal intentionally, and I kinda feel good about allowing myself a treat day and proving that I can brazenly order fried cheese without any particularly crippling guilt. This is good because I really want to maintain a healthy attitude to food, even though I'm restricting, and I don't want to be an obsessive calorie counter all the rest of my life.
But once I'd worked out exactly how many calories I'd had, I did just start feeling pretty edgy and nervous, and started working out how much walking I'd done today and then went and did 500 star jumps just to get my heartbeat up for a bit. And I keep telling myself that I haven't even eaten over my BMR, so it's almost impossible for me to gain any weight as a result of today's calories, but I still feel just a little fat and lazy because of it.
Still mostly I feel okay, and I'm really trying to force myself to be okay, because it's not a disaster. It's really not. It's not even really worth a blog post, but I've made this the place I put random thoughts, and today has had plenty of random thoughts. It's not like anyone reads this anyway, so it doesn't really matter what I say. But writing about it has reinforced my knowledge that my slightly panicky reaction was unwarranted.
Everything is fine. I'll do better tomorrow.
And hopefully the insomnia will wander away again.
Let's have some Edward Thomas:
So partly I went over my goal intentionally, and I kinda feel good about allowing myself a treat day and proving that I can brazenly order fried cheese without any particularly crippling guilt. This is good because I really want to maintain a healthy attitude to food, even though I'm restricting, and I don't want to be an obsessive calorie counter all the rest of my life.
But once I'd worked out exactly how many calories I'd had, I did just start feeling pretty edgy and nervous, and started working out how much walking I'd done today and then went and did 500 star jumps just to get my heartbeat up for a bit. And I keep telling myself that I haven't even eaten over my BMR, so it's almost impossible for me to gain any weight as a result of today's calories, but I still feel just a little fat and lazy because of it.
Still mostly I feel okay, and I'm really trying to force myself to be okay, because it's not a disaster. It's really not. It's not even really worth a blog post, but I've made this the place I put random thoughts, and today has had plenty of random thoughts. It's not like anyone reads this anyway, so it doesn't really matter what I say. But writing about it has reinforced my knowledge that my slightly panicky reaction was unwarranted.
Everything is fine. I'll do better tomorrow.
And hopefully the insomnia will wander away again.
Let's have some Edward Thomas:
"I have come to the borders of sleep,
The unfathomable deep
Forest where all must lose
Their way, however straight,
Or winding, soon or late;
They cannot choose.
Many a road and track
That, since the dawn's first crack,
Up to the forest brink,
Deceived the travellers,
Suddenly now blurs,
And in they sink.
Here love ends,
Despair, ambition ends,
All pleasure and all trouble,
Although most sweet or bitter,
Here ends in sleep that is sweeter
Than tasks most noble.
There is not any book
Or face of dearest look
That I would not turn from now
To go into the unknown
I must enter and leave alone
I know not how.
The tall forest towers;
Its cloudy foliage lowers
Ahead, shelf above shelf;
Its silence I hear and obey
That I may lose my way
And myself."
The unfathomable deep
Forest where all must lose
Their way, however straight,
Or winding, soon or late;
They cannot choose.
Many a road and track
That, since the dawn's first crack,
Up to the forest brink,
Deceived the travellers,
Suddenly now blurs,
And in they sink.
Here love ends,
Despair, ambition ends,
All pleasure and all trouble,
Although most sweet or bitter,
Here ends in sleep that is sweeter
Than tasks most noble.
There is not any book
Or face of dearest look
That I would not turn from now
To go into the unknown
I must enter and leave alone
I know not how.
The tall forest towers;
Its cloudy foliage lowers
Ahead, shelf above shelf;
Its silence I hear and obey
That I may lose my way
And myself."
Saturday 22 October 2011
Happy feet!
So, good news, I did a wee bit of prancing around and dancing this even, and as yet- no foot pain! Yay! Been taking it easy all week and only doing walking and swimming, so hopefully whatever was up with my feet has had time to recover.
It does mean I've had a bit of a lazy week though, since I've been cutting down by exercise, work is piling up, and a succumbed to the comfort of macaroni cheese. Low fat cheese (which is an abomination, by the way), it admittedly way... but it still felt pretty indulgent. Weigh in is tomorrow morning, and I'm a little nervous about it. Really hope I'll see a little progress. But making sure my feet are okay is more important- if I bugger them up seriously, I won't be able to exercise at all!
So essay deadlines are running up to me with tennis rackets and whacking me over the head at the moment. Luckily I have two titles I'm pretty interested in, but everything I read only seems to prompt further books I really need to read, and I only have two weeks to fit everything in. Not to mention, I have the terrifying prospect of having to give a presentation in one of my tutorials this week. Me and public speaking... we don't go so well together.
In other random news, I made amazing tuna burgers this week - just lightly softened onions, garlic, tinned tuna, plenty of soy and sweet chilli sauce, and an egg to bind it all together, and hey presto! Yummy and simple and proteiny. It's all good.
Over and out for now.
ETA: Shouldn't have worried. Weighed in, and I've lost 4lb! Happy times! Happy feet! I worry too much.
It does mean I've had a bit of a lazy week though, since I've been cutting down by exercise, work is piling up, and a succumbed to the comfort of macaroni cheese. Low fat cheese (which is an abomination, by the way), it admittedly way... but it still felt pretty indulgent. Weigh in is tomorrow morning, and I'm a little nervous about it. Really hope I'll see a little progress. But making sure my feet are okay is more important- if I bugger them up seriously, I won't be able to exercise at all!
So essay deadlines are running up to me with tennis rackets and whacking me over the head at the moment. Luckily I have two titles I'm pretty interested in, but everything I read only seems to prompt further books I really need to read, and I only have two weeks to fit everything in. Not to mention, I have the terrifying prospect of having to give a presentation in one of my tutorials this week. Me and public speaking... we don't go so well together.
In other random news, I made amazing tuna burgers this week - just lightly softened onions, garlic, tinned tuna, plenty of soy and sweet chilli sauce, and an egg to bind it all together, and hey presto! Yummy and simple and proteiny. It's all good.
Over and out for now.
ETA: Shouldn't have worried. Weighed in, and I've lost 4lb! Happy times! Happy feet! I worry too much.
Saturday 15 October 2011
Saturday mornings!
So Saturday mornings are my weigh-in times, and I can now officially say that after a moderate drop this week, I have now lost one stone in total. This is a very good thing. Of course I'm still a good three and a half stone from my goal, but progress is progress!
My housemate is away for the weekend so I have the house to myself. I expect plenty of dancing insanely around to Lady Gaga, which is my own little way of squeezing exercise in when I'm too busy or the weather is too lousy to do anything proper. I'm having to be careful of my feet at the moment too since I'm getting pain along the tops of them and really don't want to bugger up my tendons, so running is outlawed for the time being. (Which, remarkably, I'm quite disappointed by. Who would have thought I'd miss running!) I may test to see if cycling feels okay though, or else just a lot of walking this weekend and swimming again during the week.
Apologies, this has turned into a really boring summary of my exercise plans. Onto more exciting things...
The weather! (I'm so British...) I think it's turning properly autumnal now. People are even (Shock! Horror!) starting to mention Christmas, and the lights have gone up in town, though won't be switched on for a while yet. I'm not someone who gets depressed at the oncoming of winter. Winter is actually probably my favourite season; I really like it when it's all cold and crisp, I guess the world sort of seems quieter.
Everyday I see Vs of birds fleeing south, who knows where they're off to? They're quite dramatic though, black against the white-cloud sky. Tell you what, I wish some of the seagulls would get off out of here. One properly the size of a small chicken came pecking around my lunch the other day. Vicious little gits.
Time is flying and winter is coming and my weight is falling, and I'm happy.
My housemate is away for the weekend so I have the house to myself. I expect plenty of dancing insanely around to Lady Gaga, which is my own little way of squeezing exercise in when I'm too busy or the weather is too lousy to do anything proper. I'm having to be careful of my feet at the moment too since I'm getting pain along the tops of them and really don't want to bugger up my tendons, so running is outlawed for the time being. (Which, remarkably, I'm quite disappointed by. Who would have thought I'd miss running!) I may test to see if cycling feels okay though, or else just a lot of walking this weekend and swimming again during the week.
Apologies, this has turned into a really boring summary of my exercise plans. Onto more exciting things...
The weather! (I'm so British...) I think it's turning properly autumnal now. People are even (Shock! Horror!) starting to mention Christmas, and the lights have gone up in town, though won't be switched on for a while yet. I'm not someone who gets depressed at the oncoming of winter. Winter is actually probably my favourite season; I really like it when it's all cold and crisp, I guess the world sort of seems quieter.
Everyday I see Vs of birds fleeing south, who knows where they're off to? They're quite dramatic though, black against the white-cloud sky. Tell you what, I wish some of the seagulls would get off out of here. One properly the size of a small chicken came pecking around my lunch the other day. Vicious little gits.
Time is flying and winter is coming and my weight is falling, and I'm happy.
"Sparrows were feeding in a freezing drizzle
That while you watched turned to pieces of snow
Riding a gradient invisible
From silver asland to random, white and slow.
There came a moment that you couldn't tell.
And then they clearly flew instead of fell."
Howard Nemerov
Wednesday 12 October 2011
Greetings one and greetings all!
"Moonlit llamas
sunflower seeds
chinese checkers
covered with weeds
I wake from a slumber
to croquet at dawn
played with black hippos
on snow-covered lawn."
sunflower seeds
chinese checkers
covered with weeds
I wake from a slumber
to croquet at dawn
played with black hippos
on snow-covered lawn."
Ken Ward
My tastes in poetry vary from deep and meaningful (like this one) all the way to light hearted little ditties (Paradise Lost, for example). Poetry can make people sound very snobbish, and engenders a dreadful kind of pretention to superiority. "Oh, you like those words, do you? You like that writer, who wrote those words? You are clearly an uncultured, illiterate heathen." The thing I love most about poetry is that sometimes you like it in spite of the fact that it's strange, or clunky, or incomprehensible. Sometimes it doesn't matter if it's 'good' or if critics fawn over it or if they dismiss it as drivel, it's about what it means to you. 'Moonlit llamas' has very little literary meaning (or, you might argue, merit), but it reminds me (in ways I couldn't explain) separately but simultaneously of someone I love, of a fantastic month of my life, of an amazing day, of a season, of a photo-memory from when I was very young, of the place I grew up, and of the random wierdness that underlies all my closest friendships.
So, hello. I won't tell you my name, you don't have to tell me yours. Feel free to carry on and read some little snapshots into my crazy little life. Also feel free to click the back button- yet another anonymous blogger rambling on about their world holds limited appeal I know.
What am I up to here? You may well ask.
Well, for starters, and to be totally unoriginal, I'm trying to lose weight at the moment and am planning to use this blog as a little record of my progress. I don't remember a time when I wasn't overweight; ever since I've been aware of what I look like, I've disliked it. But that's going to change! (She says, optimistically!) This time I'm doing it. I'm going to drop to a healthy weight and stay there. And you can all throw tomatoes at me if I don't.
Deal? Deal.
Secondly, this blog will provide an outpouring for the crazy thoughts, bits and bobs, and bits of fluff that bounce around in my brain. I can hear the stampede as you all race for the back button. Oh well... it's your loss! So, random poetry, musings, recipes, books, quotes, crazy things. We'll see what comes, shall we?
Is there anyone still here?
You're brave people. Or bored. Probably very bored.
Well, I think that's enough introductory rambling for now.
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