Category: weight loss

death by dextrose

I’ve got a problem, y’all.

I’ve been reminiscing about last month a lot lately. I have another blog post queued up for later on an October/Halloween subject. But right now, I want to talk about another fascinating facet of Halloween. And that’s all the candy.

I’ve said many times that I’d rather skip the entree and go straight to desert. I have a sweet tooth. I love sweets. I crave sweets all the time. And when I do have a meal, I always have to follow it up with something sweet. If I don’t, I have a mini freak out in my mind. The meal feels unfinished. It’s like getting to the end of a serial killer flick and shutting off the movie with only five minutes left, thus never finding out who the murderer in the mask is.

Since I’ve been dieting this year, I have cut back on a lot of sweets. And it paid off. I lost 50 pounds. And it hurt not to eat candy bars and brownies. Every day was a struggle. The thoughts of sugar and molasses never left my mind. But I pushed through and made it through each day without devouring a cheese danish. But when I woke up the next morning, the struggle slid back in again.

Eventually, I was able to control my cravings to the point where the madness had dulled into an uncomfortable yet controllable nagging. And things went well for a while.

And then October came along. And I was inundated with candy.

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take another little pizza my heart now, baby

I weighed myself this morning. 45 pounds down since January. I’m happy with the results but I’m still pretty miserable because I just want pizza.

I know you’re thinking I should just get a pizza and satisfy those cravings. Well, it’s just not that easy. I’m not new to this whole weight loss game. This will be my third time losing a major amount of weight. I know what works and what doesn’t. And what doesn’t work for me is having cheat days. This is for two reasons: I am a binge eater and one pizza will lead to me cleaning out the nearest Dominos. Also, I am so paranoid about undoing all my progress that I feel I will gain back all 45 pounds from that one pizza. Yes, I know that’s completely illogical. I am aware. But that doesn’t stop me from thinking it.

So, I just don’t eat the pizza and the cravings come and go. The problem is they keep coming back.

And really, I don’t think I’d be happy with just one pizza. I’d want a pizza every week. Because food makes me happy. Or at least it numbs me enough to at least not be as depressed.

And that’s just the truth of the matter. Nothing in my life brings me joy. I have bottomed out happiness wise. Every day is painful. Every day is another reluctant choice to get up and go to work and exist when really I would rather just sleep all day and only wake up to have some ice cream or a chicken sandwich.

I look back on food with fond memories, like it’s a long lost lover. On the occasions when I got a weekend off from work, I made plans to end my Friday shift and start the weekend with a pizza or Japanese takeout and I was so excited to end the work week with some good food. I also got excited when Mom brought back fast food home when she got off work or when she wouldn’t feel like cooking and she’d say, “Hey, why don’t we order something?”

Yes, please.

And now the weekend comes and there’s no pizza or Japanese takeout and I feel like something is missing in my life, as absurd as that sounds. The weekend isn’t as fun anymore.

I wish I could be that jazzed about juicing but the reality of the situation is I equate comfort with butter and sugar, grease and breading. Lard equals love. And there’s no way around it and there’s no changing the past. It’s ingrained in me. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to rewire my head or if I’m too far gone to properly function without fried chicken, which I also miss. I haven’t had it all year. And I live in the South. It’s been tough.

And it will never get easier. I’ll get lighter but the desire for bread dough will always weigh me down.

sore throat diet

I came down with a sore throat about two weeks ago. It was the worst sore throat I’ve had since I can remember. It was hard to swallow, which made eating nearly impossible. Not only did I not want to eat because of the pain, I also had no appetite so not eating didn’t bother me.

But now that I’m feeling better, eating isn’t painful, and my appetite is coming back. But I don’t want it to.

I lost about 6 pounds in 2 weeks. It might not seem like a lot but I’ve been dieting and exercising since January and I usually only lose about 4 pounds every 2 weeks. But I lost those 6 pounds by not eating or exercising. I just slept in bed the whole time. Easiest 6 pounds I ever lost. And while I understand it was probably mostly water weight and muscle, when I finally went back to work and got dressed and could go down another notch on my belt, it felt satisfying.

It was nice not to worry about food for a change, not to have to count calories or wonder how long I’d have to exercise to burn off what I’d just eaten. It was all about my warm sheets, no sleep, and spitting up saliva all night. It was a pleasant trade-off.

The sickness helped me break through the 30lb mark. I’m now down 33lbs since January. While I’m happy with my progress, I wish I had a bit more of a healthier attitude about it all.

That’s not to say I’ve been unhealthy. In fact, this latest bout of weight loss has been, in my opinion, one of the healthiest ways I’ve done it. I have a set number of calories I can have each day and I stick with it. I work out 4-5 days a week, usually a low impact exercise that lasts 30-45 minutes. I still have sweets occasionally. I’ve even had a bit of fast food here and there, as long as it fits into my allotted calories. I don’t feel deprived. I don’t feel I’ve pushed my body to the extreme as far as physical exercise. I’m taking things slow and steady. I’m trying to be sensible and not restrict myself to the point of madness. And so far I think I’ve done a good job.

But this sickness has reminded me that I still desire quick fixes, that I’m not entirely resistant to a weight loss shortcut, no matter how unsustainable. I wanted to keep my restricted diet. I wanted to see how far I could go on a can of chicken noodle soup and a bowl of mashed potatoes, which had basically been my diet over the past 2 weeks. But it was just a thought. I didn’t go through with it, partly because I am tired of chicken noodle soup and partly because I know it’s not healthy. I knew I needed the strength to help me fight this sickness and 500 calories a day wouldn’t help with that. But the thoughts were still there.

On the other end of the spectrum, being sick also reminded me I’m not above overindulging at times. Because I hadn’t eaten very much for several days, when my throat starting feeling better, I overindulged in a few foods. I reasoned that I had a few extra calories I could consume due to my lack of eating in the days prior. And really, it makes sense. I’ve been trying to create balance in my diet. If I eat too much one day, I try to scale it back the next. I even try to do that from meal to meal. Big breakfast? Small dinner. And vice versa. But as much as I enjoyed those extra helpings, I felt guilty.

Despite over 2 months of developing solid eating habits and consistently exercising, it only took 2 weeks to get out of that routine and I’m already dreading getting back into it. I’m still not feeling that great so working out is not on my to-do list right now. But I’m trying to stick to my calories, so at least I have that going for me.

I just feel bad that I have to put so much thought into these types of things. Sneaking in an extra slice of pizza or feeling I can allow myself another cup of ice cream always leads to disaster. Anytime I loosen the reigns, I end up losing control. It takes such an incredible amount of concentration to stay on track and a lot of the time it’s exhausting. And so when I stop exercising or don’t think about calorie counting, it feels good, freeing. But each and every time that happens, I gain all the weight back. So while it sucks, it’s necessary to keep up with what I’m eating and how many times I exercise. The sickness was a break of sorts, but now I’m ready to get back into my old routine. The hard part is gonna be actually doing it.