Three guesses for what’s happened – what I have done after three weeks of being strict.
It’s my fault, no-one else’s. I take responsibility for falling off it (gosh, given the game away, there) and it is in my gift to get back on.
Here’s how it happened. This weekend I’ve been really on edge. Moody, irritable, chilled to the core by the insidious, unrelenting cold and pissed off due to lack of sleep. My insomnia-laden mind has been churning on things that I really shouldn’t worry about. And I think I’m hormonal. For a PCOS gal, this is good news – I might, just might ovulate. For everyone else it’s having to deal with the traditional frothy-mouthed, raging nut-job female whose sole aim is to eviscerate anyone that doesn’t do her bidding and keep away. My knickers have been getting in a twist over a load of wasted energy.
Waste of Energy #1
I had a whole section here repeating emails verbatim while venting my incensed, pulsating spleen at a colleague of equal standing. However, in the spirit of getting hold of myself and not digging out a 12-gauge, going to his desk and blasting everything on it, including his feet, to smithereens, I hereby will try to act like a grown up and not air this linen in public – unlike him.
Waste of Energy #2
Lending someone a valued object that you fear will A) not come back in the same condition and/or B) will not come back at all. It’s not my object to control, so back off sludgebelly. I just don’t want my husband to be disappointed.
Waste of Energy #3
This house is freezing. It’s Victorian and our predecessors’ work did not bring anything up to code. The kitchen roof holds onto snow really well, but then it would if it’s the same temperature as outside. It has been bitterly cold for some weeks. The cats are eating more, the husband’s eating more, all are perpetually hungry – and I was staving it off. Until now. Now, I feel it. I long for pasta, carbs, toast, hot food, crunch and just, food, dagnammit; get those jaws moving.
Result of All This:
I fell off the waggon. My existing weight requires c3000 Calories per day to be maintained. According to Fitday.com, in order to lose 2lbs per week I need to cut my calorie intake to c2100 Calories per day.
For two days in a row, while I stew over stupid things that are not in my control, I have relaxed my vigil.
As a confessional post-mortem I calculated that my intake has been hitting 3k per day, with wine being the greatest contributor to my intake.
Stress makes me comfort eat, it always has. Lack of control makes me comfort eat as it’s the only thing I can control, though the irony is that it controls me. It’s a hard cycle to break, even if one does acknowledge it. And sometimes, a girl just needs a drink after work, y’know?
I don’t consider the diet as ‘over’. Far from it. It’s a blip, a blimp-blip, if you like. Life throws variables at us, many of which we have to roll with whether we want to or not. Some we can choose to stand and fight for. Either way, we have to take responsibility for our decisions – and decide how we will move forward. Me? I’m getting back on that wagon.