Since my last post, I’ve been keeping a low profile as far as weight is concerned. It is as though I’ve become so saturated by the dieting world that I’ve reached a point of feeling completely worn out and disillusioned by it. Everything I’m reading now tells me that only 5% of people diet sucessfully. Do I really want to be among the 95% of failed dieters? Do I really want to be a dieter? I’m not sure I do.
All the common sense and healthy guidelines point firmly away from diets and towards healthy eating. Surely eating healthily can’t be that hard? Surely respecting my body with wholesome foods can’t be that awful? Surely listening to my body isn’t as bad as all that?
I am exhausted- my ME is flaring up as a result of my depression, I’ve been off work all week and am beginning to feel fed up of being at home. And sometimes I stop and look at myself and think- wow, I’m just not looking after myself am I? I’m just not helping myself at all. Since when did crisps and cake become so desirable that I feed myself with them even when I’m not hungry… and, dare I say it, don’t actually want to eat them?
I realise that, as ever, I am in control of what goes into my mouth. And I realise that various behaviour and thought patterns are proving unhelpful right now. I just hope I can value myself enough to make changes.
And the changes have already begun. My desk has a pile of satsumas, plums and nectarines, all looking plump and juicy in their bowls. I have soya yoghurts ready for snack-attacks, plus I made a low fat flapjack this morning which is really filling.
I guess it’s all about being prepared- having the right things readily available so that when the hunger (or cravings) strike, I have the right answers sitting in front of me.
Onwards and upwards, as they say.
