Depressed

My lack of focus and my constant eating and continual weight gain…

…has come to a head and I can now see that my weight gain over the past year is a symptom of depression.

I’m getting more and more down, not only about my weight, but about life in general. My recent life has been overpowered by the difficulties of living with a disability, rather than being helped along by a focus on what I can do and enjoy.

I knew my depression of 4 years ago had come back this week, when I found myself crying my eyes out behind my closed bedroom door- seemingly for no reason, and with an increasingly bleak outlook on life. Really sobbing. It saddens me that I have come back to this place, after having done so well over the last few years, and feeling that I’d left the depression behind for good.

It saddens me to think that an illness such as depression can have such an impact on my life and my goals and my ability to focus on what I want and need. But mainly there is a sense of sadness that at the moment, my life is not my own. My life is currently shared with an irrational and self-destructive mindset that sometimes overwhelms me.

Yesterday, I arranged some counselling. I can see that my weight gain is continuing, and I can see that I am getting more and more unhappy with each day that passes. I feel terribly sad that I have put 1 1/2 stone on-21lbs that took so long to lose and that was so hard to lose. I feel sad that I am almost back to where I started.

On Thursday, I see my dietician, and yet again, I will have gained weight. I am beginning to wonder whether I have an overeating disorder. I am beginning to wonder whether my dietician will refer me to an eating disorders clinic. I feel terribly sad about this- it is as though I have let myself down on some level.

I just hope (yet another hope) that once my counselling starts, I will be able to start addressing whatever issues I have that are hindering my weight loss.

I feel sad that my life is reduced to a thousand hopes that are unfulfilled. I feel sad that with all my trying, my life seems to be turning upside down and tangling into an intricate mess of failure and disorder.

I just feel sad.

Really trying

13st11
stayed the same this week
10lbs lost
3st11lbs to go

I was pleased that I stayed the same this week. Wouldn’t that be great if this marked a plateau, a turning point, and that i started to get it together and start to lose again?!

I’m still feeling quite low and quite despondent about my weight. But I’ve realised that comfort eating is a huge factor in this. So I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to try to concentrate on increasing my wellbeing and supporting my emotions rather than be continually beating myself up and thinking of bad foods and good foods and all that stuff.

So I’m making a positive effort to do more of the things I enjoy- such as photography, art and craft, and getting out twise a week for a walk. The walks are great- they really ground me and of course by being more active I’m also burning calories and beginning to build muscle.

Sure, it’s a small start- my ME means I walk very slowly, but I think the sense of wellbeing it produces is definately healing and supportive. I went for a walk yesterday. Only for an hour, and after I was exhausted. But I enjoyed it and felt more engaged and connected than I have done for a while.

The downside of this was that, having spent my day’s energy on a small walk, I didn’t make it to weightwatchers yet again. But I think that right now, with all this beating-up of myself, going to meeting really isn’t particularly affirming or constructive. I would only have felt a failure, sitting there knowing how much weight I’d gained since my last visit.

Instead I was walking round the woods, focussed on making art, and on being good to myself.

We’ll see if this increased activity and focus on my creative side reduces my need to comfort-eat.

 

 

Change of heart

This post comes so soon after my previous one. I wanted to record how I’m feeling now.

After writing the post below I fell apart emotionally, burst into tears and spent a good half hour beating myself up and feeling ashamed of myself. I was quite surprised at my strength of feeling, and at just how quickly I can change from feeling fine to hating myself. But I felt that my feelings should come out. I felt it was necesary to have my cry, to reach out to my friend and on the weightwatchers forum. And I’m glad I did.

Now all the rubbishness has been vented. I still feel low but I don’t hate myself anymore. I recognise that hating myself isn’t constructive. I recognise that I cannot move forwards if I am ashamed and saying hurtful things to myself. I recognise that I am more than an overweight body. I recognise that my weight is just a small part of who I am. Actually I am welling up again, because I am talking about being kind to myself and accepting my limitations. I am upset, but I’ve decided to channel that upset and disapointment into change.

I emailed my weightwatchers leader. I told her how I felt, that I’d lost my way and couldnt see how I could do this. I texted my friend, and got some supportive, understanding and empowering replies. And I posted on the weightwatchers forum. All those actions helped me to regroup and reassess.

Weight loss isn’t impossible. Hard, maybe, but not impossible. I hope I can use this feeling of sadness and disappointment to make a new start. I still feel like crying my eyes out but I know I can be strong and that one day I will overcome the issues that are keeping me overweight.

These knocks and upsets just make me stronger. I don’t give up. And so long as I don’t give up, there is the possibility that I can lose this weight. The people who lose the weight are the ones that don’t give up. I’m going to be one of them, however hard it is, however long it takes.

That’s more like it.

All that fat

Wouldn’t it be great to just click your fingers and be a healthy weight- no more emotionally charged bad food choices, no more cravings for the wrong things, just a slim body and a great attitude to food and life in general?

A friend sent me some photos of a recent get-together and I was totally shocked, and as a result, full of self-loathing, when I saw just how big I am right now. There’s no nice way of saying it- I’m fat. And for some reason fatness equates to self-loathing.

I guess it’s a self esteem thing. I know that I’m responsible for my size, therefore I must be rubbish to have let myself regain so much weight. And for some reason self esteem is inextricably interwoven with how I look.

When I see a photo of myself, it is as though I am looking at myself with new eyes. The me I see in the mirror every day is nothing like the me staring back at me in those photos. And I’m sure the photos tell a much truer story than the self in the mirror.

Oh dear, how can such a small thing as seeing yourself in a photo produce such a sense of self-loathing? I really must either be very vain and place far too much importance on how I look, or I must be so un-vain that I let myself become the fat blob that I am now. I’m not sure which it is, but I no longer feel as though I have the strength to change.

Right now, I’m sat here wondering if I’ll be a fat blob for ever. A rubbish, ugly fat blob. I’m a mess. An un-motivated, stuck-in-a-rut, gluttonous mess.

That’s how I feel.

 

Fruity mush

13st11
3lb gained this week
10lbs lost
3st11lbs to go

My weight wasn’t too bad today. 3lbs lighter than at the beginning of the week. Just goes to show that weighing yourself more than once a week is a disaster waiting to happen!!

I had an ME appointment today so didnt get to WW yet again. If I’m honest, I’m not looking forawrd to going back to WW. There’s going to be a big gain ont he cards and I’m going to feel really rubbish about that. But I know I need the weekely support from somewhere!

I went shopping today. I bought 4 packs of frozen berries and cherries, and some fresh fruit. No crisps or biscuits in sight. I feel quite virtuous!!! The plan is to use the fruit in a daily smoothie which I’ll make mid-afternoon when I usually eat all the rubbish in the house.

In order to make the smoothie idea more of a treat, I’ve bought a pretty tumbler and some straws so I feel like each smoothie is something ultra special. That’s the theory anyway!!!

Papaya and mango smoothie anyone? Or would you rather cherry and apple? Or summer fruits and banana?

All in all, I think I’m in a far more positive mindset today, which can only be a good thing. And I only ate one packet of crisps today too!

 

 

Procrastination and being busy doing nothing

I am just so totally and utterly going NOWHERE at the moment; the only thing I seem to be good at is eating and gaining weight!!!

A week ago, I figured what I needed was some life-coaching. someone to help me get past whatever it is that’s stopping me from successful weight loss. It sounded good, I had a 20 minute free session and I could see that there was a lot of work that could be done to re-frame my mind and get myself out of this situation. But there was a slight snag- the £50 price tag for 45 minutes!

I know that working one-to-one with a professional is never going to be cheap- and also that this would be money well spent. BUT, and it’s a big but, I don’t HAVE £300 knocking around for the average 6 sessions. It’s simply too far out of my price bracket. Having the ME means I’m only working part-time, and the income I get is soon swallowed up with food, bills etc that there really isn’t anything left for expensive therapies.

Shame that. It looks like I’ll have to just keep plodding on in my own dysfunctional way.

I’ve thought that maybe I need to join a new slimming club, you know, try something new, but then I stop and think, well, you hear of the people who have tried ‘every diet going’ and are still overweight, and I don’t want to go down that route of false hopes and ups and downs. One ‘diet’ is enough I reckon. But then, if I no longer have the motivation to stick to that diet… why am I sticking with it? Surely there’s another option just around the corner that will be the answer to all my problems, the thing of dreams?

I also look at my recent attempts to get motivated. I’ve tried SOOOO many different ideas, different avenues, tools, techniques and plans to get my mojo back, and it seems that for every new thing I try, this becomes more of a dieting minefield and less of a weight-loss exercise.

It’s as though I now know TOO much, I know too many rules, I know too many tools and tips and restrictions and good things and bad things- so much so that it overwhelms me and instead of managing to focus on one positive habit change, I end up feeling that this dieting lark is too full of restrictions, that there’s too much writing and recording and reflecting involved. I end up feeling exhausted before I’ve even started. So it’s easier to carry on doing what I’ve always done than it is to work out which forms I ought to be filling out today- it’s as though I’m bogged down with miles of dieting red tape.

I’ve got the food diary, the unplanned eating assessment form, the goalsetting form, the weight-loss graph, the hunger scale, the tool planner… the list goes on and on and in the end it’s easier to not do any of it.

I guess maybe I’ve become a victim of my own motivation. I’ve documented my diet to death.

Maybe I really DO need a new start. Chuck out all the tools, forms and tables and charts and start again. But how?

The big bad one four

14st0lbs

I knew I shouldn’t have stepped on the scales this evening. I knew it was a bad idea before I even did it. Fourteen stone!!! This is ridiculous. This must be the lowest point of my weight-loss journey so far. I’ve put on one and a half stone from my slimmest, and I’m nearly back to square one. I was 14st7lbs at my heaviest. Not so far to go before I’m back to that size!!!

Why am I doing this to myself? Last night I had a binge. A proper binge. 8 biscuits, 4 packets of snack-a-jacks popcorn, two flapjacks, two packs of crisps and a cereal bar. That was after my dinner. I didn’t need any of it, but I still ate it. Why? What on earth is wrong with me? And yesterday morning I’d got up and decided that I would follow a diet for one day. One day only, and I still blew it!

I KNOW it’s self-destructive to binge, I KNOW crisps and cakes are bad for me, I KNOW healthy food makes me feel better and more energised, I KNOW I’m happier when I’m losing weight and getting compliments, I KNOW I’m eating food my body doesn’t need, I KNOW I’m not hungry even when I’m eating that thing I have a compulsion to eat.

It’s all crap. I’m crap, dieting is crap, weight is crap, low self-esteem from being overweight is crap. And yet, I’m responsible for my size. I, I am the one that feeds myself, I am the one that pushes food I don’t need down my throat. I am the one that acknowledges that I’m not enjoying eating the third or fourth biscuit or packet of crisps.

Am I really that rubbish? Am I really that weak-willed and shallow that I give in to every craving I have and lull myself to sleep with mouthfull after mouthfull until I feel sick? Why do I do that? do I really hate myself that much, that I want to punish myself week after week at the scales with a gain? Do I really hate myself enough to overfill my body with junk food? Do I really hate myself that much that I want to carry on looking fat and feeling uncomfortable in too-small clothes, and getting indigestion from eating the wrong things?

Am I really that crap that I can’t respecct my body enough to look after it? I know exactly what I could and should be doing for my health. Believe me, I’ve probably read more dieting magazines and books than 50 people together. I know what foods support my health, and what foods don’t. I know every trick in the book, but I don’t USE the tricks. When it comes to it, I don’t care, I want food and I want unhealthy food.

When did my relationship with food get so warped? When did food become a comfort, a way to switch off, a way to let go and forget? When did food stop being fuel and start being an obsession? Why do I think like a fat person? Why do I prefer the fatty foods and see them as treats, treats to be had numerous times a day? Why can’t I eat only when I’m physically hungry instead of when I’m having cravings?  Why can’t I stop when I’ve had enough rather than eat and eat and eat and eat? Why can’t I make the right food decisions and why on earth can’t I choose foods that are supportive to my heath rather than detrimental to it?

I AM RUBBISH. I AM TOTALLY UTTERLY STUPIDLY RUBBISH. I need to get a grip, but I’ve been trying to get a grip for a year. And I’m failing to get a grip. I’m under a dietician, I go to Weightwatchers when I can. And I still can’t get a grip.

I’m USELESS. Totally USELESS. Utterly USELESS. I hate myself. I can’t even maintain a diet for a single day. What sort of crap is that. I can’t even eat healthily for a single day. I’ve tried dieting, I’ve tried ‘not dieting’, I’ve tried eating healthily, I’ve tried eating diet foods full of chemicals. But my head’s not in the right place.

But I’m panicking. I do NOT want to get back to my heaviest weight. I want to be slim, I want to be the old me, the me with a healthy relationship with food, the me that’s independant, the me that’s healthy, the me I was before I got ME and before I got depression from the frustration of having ME.

I want the motivation I used to have- I want the energy I used to have- I want to be able to get up an hour early each day and go jogging like I used to do before the ME, I want to cut my calories and diet properly without nearly fainting with fatigue like I do now, I want to be full of vitality instead of being constantly trembly and weak (a weakness that makes me want to eat). I want to be able to go to the gym, use the rower, the treadmill, feel the burn, get the endorphin high from being able to exercise and push myself. I want to go out and do things on my days off instead of lying on my bed exhausted and incapacitated. I want so much, and my illness has taken so much away from me.

No wonder I’m unhappy, no wonder I turn to food. Eating is one of the few things I can do. Eating is my way to feel good. My way of ‘treating’ myself. Eating is easy, it gives me energy. Everything else in my life takes my energy away.

Life with ME is hard. Right now, it feels very hard. It’s hard because my health stands in the way of my dreams. It’s hard because I feel ill most of the time, and when I feel ill nothing else matters. Not even losing weight. When I feel nauseous and shaky and my heart is racing and the room is spinning, carbs and sugar seem a very good idea indeed. Carrots and apples just don’t do it.

My heart is bleeding, It’s bleeding for the me I once was, the me that jogged every day, the motivated, energised, can-do me. In fact I guess what I need right now is a good cry. Perhaps I need to sit down and acknowledge that my life is hard. Maybe I need to allow myself to be struggling, maybe it’s ok to be weak and rubbish and a dieting failure, because I have good excuses. Maybe I should realise that I have good excuses. Maybe I should stop trying and maybe I should let myself balloon up into a size 24, and just not care, because I have excuses.

Maybe I should give in to my situation, and acknowledge that losing weight is a rubbish thing to do when you are ill, maybe I need to realise that I am too weak, to ill, too messed-up to be a successful dieter. But the tears running down my face make me think that that would be soul-destroying to give up. I don’t want to give up. It seems like an impossible mountain to climb, it seems like I have a wall of thick concrete to pull down, it seems like my whole life opposes me losing weight. That’s how I feel right now.

But I won’t give up.

Uh-oh!

Following on from my post on Wednesday, I now believe that my weight was wrong, it should have been 13.9. I think the helper read it wrong. Which of course means that I put on 4lbs rather than one.

The big shocker though, came last night when I stepped on the scales at home. I’m heavier at the weekend usually, but I was not at all impressed to see the scales reading 13.12. That is terrible!!

To get this into perspective, I started out at 14.7 and lost half a stone before joining a weightwatchers meeting. That was two years ago and the first weight on my card reads 13.13.5.

Yesterday, I was 13.12.

Two years of weightwatchers, and I have a 1.5lbs loss to show for it? This really, really isn’t at all good.

I know that only one person can change things. And that’s me. I know that I can make excuses, and I know that I can excuse myself because of my ME and low exercise tolerance. But I also know that, in spite of my challenges, I can make a difference to my weight.

I know that I can’t blame my over-eating on my ME, my mood or my lack of exercise. Sure, that’s WHY I overeat, but overeating is something I CAN change. I can’t change the fact that I have a disability, I can’t change the fact that I have challenges to face, but I CAN change what I eat. And I CAN change how much I eat, and when I eat.