Weekly Weigh-In Disaster

Well, it probably isn't a disaster, but it feels like it to me.

I weighed in today at the exact same weight as last week.  I was heart broken.  I had worked as hard as I could to eat as clean and healthy as I could and the scale refused to budge.  I can't blame it on my cycle or stress, or even lack of sleep since I slept well last night.  I don't want to think "oh, well at least I didn't gain" because that wasn't my goal.  I worked for my goal and failed.

I think this week, even with my husband in town, I need to start fresh.  Tracking everything religiously.  Keeping consistent and honest.

Actually, having my husband in town will help with that.  He watches what I eat like a hawk.  Sometimes, and I know he doesn't do this, but in my head he does, I feel like he is judging everything I put in my mouth.  That for each bite I'm taking, he doesn't understand why I'm eating it.  His judgement and misunderstanding over how my body doesn't like going 4-5 hours without water or food is an example to me, in my head.

Now, his actions aren't controlling in any way.  He never says a single word about what I eat or when I eat in a negative light.  He honestly is trying to support me.  But with never having struggled with his weight and having a completely normal relationship with food, he doesn't understand my struggle at all.  Because of that, I know that I can't count on him to truly be able to support me.  It isn't that he doesn't want to, it is that he doesn't know how to.  Our numerous conversations have attested to that.

So this morning, when he was up with me and saw my sadness after I weighed myself, as much as he was trying to help, asking what he could do etc.  All I could think in my head is "great, now he is going to be watching everything I eat even more."  I know it is all in my head.  I know it is me and not him, but part of me is so frustrated with it.  Why oh why did I have to marry a husband with a completely normal relationship to food AND a super fast metabolism so he can eat whatever he wants, when he wants????  ARRGGGHHH.

But I'll get through this plateau.  There is only one way that scale it going to move and that is down.  And the only way that is going to happen is by me being consistent.  And that is what I'm going to do.  I've gotten my frustration out (thank you all for listening) and now I am only going to go forward.  That is the only thing to do.  I am going to try really hard to not let my mind wrap around the whole notion that fat girls shouldn't eat and starving myself.  I'm going to focus on eating right, not stressing and constantly reminding myself that healthy habits = healthy bodies at any weight.

Stupid freaking weigh-in this morning.

Oops, I did it again....

That would be not get out of bed in time to do the 7 am bootcamp.  *sigh*  I sometimes think that if the classes weren't free, even if there was just a $5 charge, I'd be more likely to go!

 Now just to make me (and hopefully others) smile:

photo credit

That poor dog... so scary, yet so so funny.  My husband refuses to let me do anything fun to our white dog's hair!  We're afraid to cut it since the part of this tail fur he burned off in a campfire hasn't grown back (No, we did not torture I dog.  He backed into a campfire while trying to jump into a chair ~ he has a long tail and part of the fire caught a flame - he wasn't hurt, more concerned over why everyone was yelling at him!)

And in other disappointing news, my tenants just gave notice for the end of May.  This gives me 5 weeks to sell my condo or else end up further in debt.  We only rented it out and moved since we couldn't afford to keep living there after being hit with a huge leaky condo levy.  They introduced new bylaws last year where if your tenant moves out, you move back to the bottom of the rental wait list.  In our strata we are only allowed 7 rental units at a time and those spots are all taken and I know there are at least 4 - 5 people on the wait list.  So now I have to sell.  It is about a year before I was planning to do it and throws everything into a loop.  Change means stress to me.  Stress means my body goes into conservation mode and makes it nearly impossible for me to lose weight.  This means I'm going to have to be extra vigilant in my workouts and eating.  Man, I'm nauseous just thinking about it; heart is racing, mind is racing, beginning to sweat ~ yup the stress has started. 

That means that this:

wed afternoon individual cardio session

isn't going to cut it anymore.

I've never been so happy in my life that my husband is coming home.  I need that support right now.  Heck, we have 2 condos to sell so I might as well get used to it!

Well, on the positive side, it will accomplish one more item on my 101 things to do list.

Now... where was I?

Oh... yeah, the not waking up in the morning.  I think I'm going to leave that challenge for another day. 

+4.5lbs *Sigh* I'm a tub of lard

The weigh-in this morning was depressing.  I was up almost 5 lbs.  Now I can try to justify it by saying it is water retention or muscle gain or lactic build up from the really hard workouts.  But I won't.  I'll take it as 4.5 pounds of fat and as a wake up call that I have to get my eating under control.

I've eaten poorly the last 2 weeks.  My breakfast and lunches are great, but when I get home, I go into overeating mode.  Part of it is boredom, a huge part is loneliness, and the other part is the pure self-destructive behaviour of punishment.  I got in to the mindset that I'm a loser and didn't deserve to be happy or thin or healthy.  That I will never be, and don't deserve to be, pretty or attractive or liked.  I reached a very dark place on Saturday night after I had convinced myself how much of a horrible person I am and how much I deserve to be a fat loser.  This downward spiral usually happens about once every couple of months and can take a few weeks to break.  To get through it, to punish myself, I eat.  I hit T&T (a local asian supermarket) and the Maxim's Bakery next door on Saturday and stocked up on congee, bbq pork, rice noodles, egg tarts, mini apple pastries and pineapple bbq pork buns.  I then came home, sat on the couch and proceeded to stuff my face till I cried.

Did it make me feel better? No.

I still felt like a lonely fat loser.  I was still alone on Saturday night, following the trend from the previous weekends of spending them alone.  I don't have many friends and out of the few, most are married with kids and aren't interested in hanging out on a Friday or Saturday night.   Eating crap didn't help me overcome my loneliness, but it did make me momentarily feel better ~ man did all that food taste good.

I sometimes fear that if it wasn't for the Saturday morning circuit class, I wouldn't have any human interaction between Friday night and Monday morning.

I am also loathe to tell any of my friends of these feelings for fear they would find me a bigger loser and not want to hang out with me at all.

I miss my husband.

I hate my body and I hate my lack of willpower.  I am a fat loser.  I am a fat loser with no friends.  I am a fat loser with no friends and zero self-esteem.