No surprise there then...

Remained at same weight. Blah. Although given I have lived off nothing but milkshakes apart from one indiscretion, many would be amazed, but such is life on a VLCD. (Very Low Calorie Diet. Keep up, people!) I am still one point away from the top end of "Normal" weight. But if I am a good girl, I'll get there by next week.

Renewed, reinvigorated, I return from my "cult" having watched my inspiring video. (Honestly, they should update them. There is no humour, it has the aura of a cheap, cable channel mid morning programme, and given the amount of cash they must be making each week, surely they could be more, well, zippy?) And despite the clunky school video, I feel inspired to move on. The girls who have done this with me are brilliant. A troupe of winners. How we can go from munching constantly to surviving on pastel coloured liquid, four times a day, would be beyond most sane people. It is week 10. (Less for me, I know, if you are pedantically following this blog.) We are survivors. Will us to stay on this path, because it is a damn sight better than being obese and miserable, I can tell you.

The true struggle will be to maintain. I realise this, and yet, I found this stage so hard. ALL the way through. Perhaps I am weakwilled. But if nothing else, I have realised through this, that it is all MY choice, what happens to my body, and I need to take control. I can no longer blame other factors or say I am powerless. I can CHOOSE what happens to my bodyweight. It may be hard, but at least I'm in control. I worry about society at the moment, everyone is so used to someone else to blame or in control. Everyone blames the government, the media, education, etc. for obesity, as if obesity was some kind of faceless beast that they cannot fend off themselves. It IS A PERSONAL BATTLE. And one which every person can take control of. For good or for ill.

Two stone lighter...

...(and a couple of pounds)

Remarkably. I lapsed on Saturday. I dropped in on a next door neighbour and the naughty minx pressed wine on me. Oh bend my rubber arm, why don't you! It was lovely, sitting in the september afternoon sun (yes, the sun came out for my lapse), sipping and gossiping, while the children played, and flooded her bathroom. (This we didn't discover until later. Serve us right for drinking on the job!) So I rolled home, pissed, which was quite an achievement for someone who would need a couple of bottles to feel tipsy before, and dialled a pizza.

:(

FOOL!

Anyway, I ate about two slices and then felt so disgusting, I spat out what was in my mouth and chucked the remainder in the bin. The only person I was fooling was myself.

Despite this, I weighed myself earlier that morning (i.e. before the lapse), and without clothes I was 10stone and 3lbs, which gives me a BMI of 25, i.e. NORMAL! My scales come up lighter than that in my lighter life session, which I put down to having clothing, and getting weighed later in the day. I am hoping that this naughtiness has not thrown me too much. I felt wretched the following day, like I had a hangover.

My LLC asked when I wanted to start Route to Management, i.e. when I wanted to start introducting food again. She thinks I am going to hit my 10 stone very shortly. Truth is, I am naturally supposed to be smaller than 10 stone, I am very small.. only 5 foot 2, and small boned. I would probably be better at about 9 stone. But I don't want to over do it either. It is bad enough that you need to be food obsessed on this diet, but you don't want to develop eating disorders on top of that. (Not that I anticipate any food disorder except that which I already have, i.e. obsession with pizza and cheese etc.!) It is hard to know. I am actually quite scared that it will all pile on again very quickly as soon as I start eating food again. That I won't know how to stop.

Food Porn, breasts and cheese.

The bloke came home at lunchtime with a large freshly baked crusty loaf and some very ripe camembert. I nearly cried. Genuninely. After perving over watching him eat some and sticking my nose into both bread and cheese, I went off an cooked my sad little lemon bar into lemon "cookies". It didn't make me feel much better. He had better eat it all by tomorrow. I know for a fact that cheese and bread are going to be my "trigger" foods. My big no-no. I can't see me ever getting to grips with it. Put me in front of a pizza or a plate of cheese sandwiches, and they will already be working their way down my gut. I have no sense of where to stop.

BUT going shopping for clothes yesterday sure did make me feel good. I am about 2 stone lighter than I was this time 2 months ago, and it shows. I'm no Kate or Keira (thank God), but I am able to ask for size 10 trousers/skirts in some shops. (N.B. Fat Face and Hobbs are very generously sized in the bottoms, but I find not as generously sized in the tops.) It is weird how I am small down below and big up top. I have a tummy, don't get me wrong, but small hips and bum. It makes buying things like pyjamas or dresses very difficult. I can be a size 10 below and an 18 up top. It's a wonder I don't keel over. My boobs have shrunk a bit, but thankfully not too much (so far.) Having had two kids and breastfed for a considerable time, I expect it to all head south sometime soon. My back size is down to 34 from 36, so now I'm a respectable 34 E. Jordan eat your heart out. I'll bet she doesn't perv over camembert. I suppose she has Peter Andre. He's cheesy enough.

Crack open the fizz!

I passed the test. Yeah, baby! And I'm celebrating with a glass of San Pellegrino fizzy water and a savoury vegetable drink. Rock n' Roll. I'm watching Notes on a Scandal, thankful that my life is much simpler. Nowt wrong with the simple life sometimes. God, I would gnaw my arm off for a cheese toastie though.

Driven to succeed.

I have my driving test next week, which is exciting and terrifying in equal measure. I used to be terrified of driving, like being physically ill before lessons and pulling out of courses. But this time, I have to admit that I am looking forward to the freedom of being able to drive. There is a glimmer of recognition that driving may actually be enjoyable. An asset to my life. I actually feel like I could pass this. But I will need something else, some other focus once it's over. I must have a look at some kind of physical classes or rethink joining a gym. The boy is in a gym, just for the swimming pool really, so it would be logical to join as a "family" ticket thing. So roll on the driving test, because the gym in question is a good 15 minute drive away. Running out of excuses to remove one's ample arse from the sofa! Not sure if the bank will lend me anything to buy a car once I have the test though. Would love a 1960s/70s VW camper, so if anyone has one spare to donate, preferably with cream leather seats with red piping...

I must upload some photos of myself, to prove that I am a real person and not makebelieve! I am always full of great enthusiasm at the very end of the day, but by the next morning, I feel "Oh blah!" about it all. Reading some posts in the lighterlife community forum, I realise that I have very little to complain about really. My kids are in good health. Okay, I'm in debt, and feeling a bit of credit crunch, but the bailiffs have not been called in yet. There are some people out there who are coping with this diet with some very big problems; sick kids, sick parents, sick selves etc. So I have no reason to whinge. But I could murder a sarnie. Oh blah. I'm also worried that my loss this week won't be huge, as an after effect of my lapse last week. I certainly don't feel any lighter.

We had some friends to stay last night, with their new baby girl. (Set off my broody hormones, she was cute as a button.) I fed them a delicious curry platter. The full works - Veg pilau rice, prawn korma, chicken jalfrezi, garlic nans, copious bottles of wine. I sat there with my fizzy water, claiming to have a tummy ache. I also had to decline a thank you lunch the next day on the basis that I wanted to clear my system of this "bug". I felt quite guilty fibbing like this. I am not a good liar, and am convinced that people see right through me when I tell porkies, so I tend not to. But I really don't want to tell people about my diet until later. Lots of my friends and family just would not understand, and would consider this dangerous quackery. I know I would, if I wasn't doing it myself and had researched it first. I don't understand how people can tell all and sundry. So brave!

Ooops! Celebrating without beverages and refreshments: Can it be done?

Well then, well then. I cheated at the wedding. Hardly surprising really. Despite intending to act like a saint, I felt really weak willed and hit the wine. Also, my rebellious child was shouting in my ear "WHAT THE HELL! ONE NIGHT WON'T HURT!" throughout the day. It was most distracting, and I gave in to it. Weigh in yesterday, and I had still lost one and a half pounds. Truly relieved that I hadn't gained to be honest, and am feeling a renewed energy and really want to go for it. This brings my total weight loss so far to 20 pounds, or, if you like, one stone and six pounds, which is fantastic for just 5 weeks. Onwards and downwards!

It's mine and the boy's birthday, in a fortnight, and we would usually, babysitters permitting, go out and have a slap up meal and lots of posh wine. That is the only time I feel apprehensive about. I will try and forestall that feeling by planning something non-foody for the day or evening. Ideas on a postcard please!

Meanwhile, I am finding the foodpacks REALLY BORING. I have abandoned the savoury ones altogether because they are totally bleurgh. I tried to make "crisps" out of the vegetable pack, and they were so salty and horrible, I had to bin them. So I am sticking to making biscuits. This I do as follows:

Recipe 1: Ingredients: One foodpack, or half of two packs. 2 teaspoons of water.

Mix vigourously to make a paste. Add some water flavouring if you want it sweeter. Add more water if necessary. Spread to as thin as possible on a plate. It should cover a whole dinner plate. Nuke in a microwave for 2 minutes and 30 seconds. Remove from plate with a fish-slice and place on a cooling rack or on another cold plate and leave to cool. Hey presto, a big crunchy biscuit. okay, it ain't Nigella, but I'm gonna be slimmer than her so nya.

Recipe two: Chop up a lemon, toffee or fruit bar into one centimetre widths and spread out on a plate. Nuke for one minute 40 seconds in a microwave. Scrape off with fish slice and put somewhere to cool. Result: Crunchy sweet biscuits, markedly more edible than the original gunk.

Recipe three: Thanks to one of my LL group members for this revelation. I find coffee without milk quite difficult, so making up a hot fairly dilute half a packet of vanilla or caramel, and mixing with two mugs worth of cafetiere coffee makes a sweet, milky coffee like I used to have for breakfast in France. (Without a slab of yesterday's stale baguette, natch.) This I had for the first time this morning, and I suspect it will be my staple breakfast from now on. Or at least until I get sick of that too.

Well here I am, 19 days into my lighter life journey. (See, I’m getting into the lingo now!) I feel lighter, and I look lighter. I tried on a few outfits from my dusty wardrobe for this wedding we are going to in a fortnight. I was pleasantly surprised. Outfit one was a size 16 black and white Coast prom-dress that I wore just over a year ago for a wedding. I thought I looked okay at the time, but when I saw the photos, my face and shoulders were round, my backfat and my boobs were spilling out all over the place. I *think* I am slimmer now than I was then, but it is hard to know, perhaps I am about the same. It looked better on today than I remember in any case. It ties directly under the boobs and then flares out, so is quite flattering over the tum. I am undecided whether to wear a hat with it or not. Outfit two was a ¾ length sleeved Kaliko size 18 beige and black chiffon dress over a satin slip. It flows nicely over the tummy, and gathers together under the boobs. However, it looks a tad frumpy, a bit grandmother of the bride-ish. (Not saying that the lovely bride’s grandmother is frumpy, if she is still around, but you know what I mean!) Outfit three was the big surprise. I bought it as a fall back for the last wedding, but realised that I was far too plump to pull it off, and slipped it back into wardrobe, labels still attached. It’s a simple sleeveless dress of brown lace and sequins over satin slip. I just tried it on, and lo and behold, it actually is very nice on. I am clearly losing a bit around my tummy and getting a bit of a waist back. That I didn’t want to puke my guts up on seeing my flesh adorned with a dress is a welcome development. I have dreaded weddings, and the seemingly pointless effort in trying to look like one has put a bit of effort into one’s appearance, for the last few years. This one will be a bit blah, because it will be populated with “beautiful people”, but I won’t be wishing the ground would swallow me up because I look like a sack of potatoes, because, in fact, I will look okay. Not Nicole, not Kate, but not “out of place”. Hoorah! I haven’t a clue what to do with my hair, it is a good bit shorter than it was the last time I went to a wedding. I don’t really want to fork out 40 quid or so for someone to move it around and spray it. Hmmm.

I am so sodding fed up with internet service providers! I have now been offline for over a month. Virgin media are useless. I don’t know how many hours I have spent on the phone trying to sort out my connection, but it is too long for a short life. Despite having washed my hands of them, I am still finding myself on the phone to them begging them to disconnect me, and no doubt I will be in touch with them again, demanding that they stop billing me. Or that they haven’t refunded me for the time I was without service. And now the new ISP is getting all muddled up too. I have a stress headache from being on the phone so long, and I want to chuck the telephone across the room. Apparently it will be another week before I even receive my new wireless router, let alone get connected, and here was I thinking I would be set up by now. It is so frustrating. These telephone operators seem to work in complete isolation from each other, so when you are assured by one person that your order has gone through and everything is in order, it takes waiting for the goods not to turn up, a couple of irate phone calls, and burst blood vessels later to work out that, no, they had not processed such and such piece of information, and that it will be yet another five working days, etc. etc. ad nauseum. I was supposed to be sorting out our holidays online, sending a load of photos and videos to our overseas rellies in time for a Grandad’s birthday, and loads of other things, and it just ain’t gonna happen now. Gaaahh!! And the boy just phoned me to tell me to organise a trip to the cinema online and book some tickets. I can’t even work out what’s on, at what time. Hell, I can’t even book tickets, because everything these days is done online. Fed up, I am. Fed up! And to cap it all, the youngest is having a whine attack. He has just spent the last half an hour gurning and refuses to stop. He can’t speak, so he can’t tell me what he wants. My head is splitting. Thank goodness my daughter is at holiday club, because if she was here and kicking off too, I would probably just pull on some shoes and walk out the door and leave them to it.

Have just spent the day out shopping, and am pleasantly knackered. Clearly have not been drinking enough fluid, as when I got home and was rushing around trying to get the kids dinner, I had a whitey and nearly passed out. Have got almost all of my daughter’s uniform sorted for next year, and a few little bits and pieces for weekends. Just one top from M&S for me. A size 18. I could have got the 16, but it was a little clingy around the back, and I figured even if I go down a size, it drapes nicely.

I also got a new pair of trainers, as my old ones are rotting off my feet, they are about 5 years old! Still managed to spend a fortune. Would love to spend every day shopping, but it is so dangerous, particularly when I am already up to my earlobes in debt.

CHOICE!

I reached a bit of an epiphany last night. I decided, consciously that I was going to cheat. I even told the boy to bring home some wine, as I had every intention of having a glass. He did, and I did. I had two whole glasses. And it was good, but you know? It wasn’t great. But something happened. For the last two weeks I have been feeling deprived and hard done by, like I was really missing out on my wine, my cake, my sandwiches, my cheese. But by taking the choice to cheat, I realised that the choice is mine, it is not inflicted on me by the diet, or by the food, or anything or anyone else. I am choosing to abstain from conventional food, and I am doing it for my own good. It is like a weight lifted off actually. It may have thrown off my ketosis, I don’t know, and will find out next Sunday if it has affected my weight loss. But even if it has, at least I know that I am the one in control. I am not being deprived of anything, I am not even depriving myself, I am consciously abstaining from conventional food in a bid to improve my health.

Will I ever be able to stop at one?

Went to the shops yesterday and bought some new tops. I am still very overweight, obviously, but I do look better. My tummy isn’t as swollen. I look about five months pregnant, as opposed to 9 months. The problem is knowing when to stop spending! I already want to throw a load of my old clothes into the charity shop bag, but it is probably wise to hold off until I lose a bit more!

I seem to go into a big dip between about 2pm and putting the kids to bed at about 8pm. That is six hours. A long time to feel pissed off with a diet. Yesterday I got it really bad. The boy had a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge from when we had friends visiting last week, and it took all my will power not to pull it out and pop out the cork.

I find it hard to imagine that I will ever be able to stop at one slice of pizza and one glass of wine. In fact, I would go as far as to say that at this present time, it seems impossible. That alone should indicate that I have a long way to go just yet. One of the things that irks me however, is how the magazines and blurb suggests that the “hunger” pangs subside. And the feedback from the other girls in the class suggests that they are finding it “alright”. Alright? Alright? I am drowning in self pity come Sunday. How on earth can they find it alright? I lower my tone and in a muffled voice say “Um, I’m finding it quite hard actually…”

Interesting that I found it so hard last night. The boy was out at a work do, and I was on my own. Funny that I really wanted to crack open a bottle on my own.

Mmmm. Cheese Scones.

Inexplicable craving for a cheese scone today. How peculiar. The first couple of weeks it was fruit I was craving, now stodgy cheese scones!

One week in!

I found Saturday quite hard. Only a week in, and I am already fed up and bored with the food packs. On Sunday, I prepared a meal for my friends from Oz, and opened some wine for them. It smelt delicious. I did tell them about my diet, and they were very supportive, and not remotely judgmental. My friend has had problems with her own weight, but she has always been fit despite it, having been in the army and being a member of a gym. So they didn’t mind me disappearing for a couple of hours and leaving the boy and kids with them to eat their dinner. I weighed in and have lost 7lbs! Quite pleased, although I secretly hoped it would be more. I also discovered LL savoury drinks, which may be my salvation, as the prospect of surviving on veg soup and shakes is scaring me a bit. I want to have lost a stone in three weeks, so fingers crossed. The boy said he notices that my tummy isn’t as swollen, which is nice. He has really been supportive, more than I thought he would be. He actually told me that I should stick to it for the 14 weeks last night when I was moaning a bit and muttering about coming off it, which was a great relief. He is behind me! That said, he can unwittingly tempt me. He brandished a glass of burgundy under my nose last night and begged me to taste it “Surely you can taste a little bit? Stick your finger in!” He wasn’t deliberately teasing me, but I don’t think he fully gets that it is an “abstinence” diet. I have to laugh when he comes in “Starving” at 6.30, having not had anything since 2pm. I’m bad at grazing, but blimey, he takes the biscuit, pun not withstanding.

I am worried about this week. My interest is seriously waning. The novelty has totally worn off. I KNOW I need to crack the psychology of this if it is to have any effect, but I am just so bored with the food/lack of food. And it seems to preoccupy me constantly. I have found that silly gossip mags are actually a good way to distract, because unlike books, which I never have time to read, they are something I can pick up and put down when one of the children screech for attention, or if I have to jump up and do something. So, much to my shame, I have taken to buying magazines. If I had my internet access it wouldn’t be so bad, but the bloody thing has been down for over two weeks now.

Day 4. Feeling hungover... bizarrely.

Day 4. I’m feeling a bit scheiße. Like I’m hungover, or my muscles are wasted or something. I hugely craved a banana for breakfast, but had to make do with a LL banana milkshake. When I felt like my arms couldn’t hold up my straighteners, I came down and ate a cranberry and raspberry bar. This leaves me with only two food portions for the rest of the day. Bummer. This malaise could be partly due to lack of sleep. We were out late last night, (well late for us, okay?) and I didn’t nod off until 1.30. Within about an hour, my little one started howling. He had a dirty nappy and a sore bottom. I took him with me into the big bed in his room. Poor mite wriggled and mooched all night. I have bags the size of rucksacks under my eyes.

Luckily for me, my daughter is in holiday club today and my son is in nursery. I am supposed to be working today, but the project has wound down until later this year, so I have my kids booked into childcare, and a couple of free days every week. The bliss! However, of course this means I am short of pocket, and much as I would love to distract myself with shopping, I dare not chance it. I am struggling to keep regular payments to my credit cards as it is. The reception on the TV is dreadful, and has been for weeks. I haven’t had the internet for over a week, which is really irritating. Not least because I am missing Big Brother and depend on 4 on demand to catch up on what is happening!

We went to the movies last night. The boy was starving having not had anything since lunch. Poor baby, Ha ha. So, we queued for about 20 minutes at the Ben and Jerry’s counter. A narrow lane with metres of floor to ceiling of all of my favourite pick ‘n ‘mix at either side. I won’t list them, but imagine all the faves from your childhood. Even the nasty ones looked appealing. And at the end of it, like an altar, the Ben and Jerry’s icecream counter, with supersized posters of icecream sundaes. It was an exquisite form of torture. But it was funny, and I felt rather smug about being able to withstand it. It was a bit galling to see a girl, as lithe as a whippet, fill a bag to the brim with this gunge and join the queue. Perhaps she doesn’t eat anything else all week. Or perhaps she does, but it doesn’t adhere to her body in lumps of fat. But hold on, that girl used to be me! Maybe she will have weight issues later on too?
We arrived home to our babysitter at about 12.30, and she was heading out to see a friend. [i]At half midnight![/i] I was vaguely shocked, as she is only 16. The boy laughed at me saying that I needed to cast my mind back to what we got up to at that age. But it just seems so far away compared to our own babies and those of our friends. We’ve known this girl since she was a tot. If in ten years time my own daughter wants to slip out to see a friend in the local park at 12.30, I suspect I will have grave misgivings about it. This comes from a person who at the same age used to shimmy down the drainpipes at all hours of the night, and skip school to visit an older boyfriend in the city. I am getting so old, not just in body, but in mind too. It’s like my body is old, and my mind has adjusted to get into sync with it. I think when I look at myself that my excess weight really ages me, and I hope that when I lose three stone I will look younger. Most of the people in the blurb and the magazines look much younger when they lose weight. Will I [i]feel[/i] younger too?

Day three in the lighter life house. 1.34pm. I wouldn’t call what I feel as being “flu like”, but I am feeling very tired and a tad fed up. I am so used to grazing on fruit and fruit juice throughout the day that I have had to physically stop myself from snatching a blueberry or a peach from the fruit bowl.

Yesterday I bought some chicken, peppers and noodles for a stir-fry for the boy, and he whipped up a lovely smelling concoction that looked delicious. I don’t even eat chicken!

That said, I can see increasingly how my life seems to focus constantly on food. How, this time last week I would have had a big bowl of cereal, some fruit, lots of juice, possibly followed by a large cappuccino and either cake or a toastie at the café, and I would now be tucking into a large lunch, followed by snacks, most probably sugary, throughout the afternoon. It just cannot be healthy. And much as I feel I am suffering a little now, it bears little resemblance to how I would suffer having had a heart attack or a stroke, or some sort of obesity related cancer. I have to snap out of this way of living, for my own good, and for the good of my kids. I miss the fistful of jelly beans, that delicious sugar rush, the sugary tanginess on the tongue. But blimey, how long does that feeling last for? Is it worth it? If it was once every so often, fine. But every day? Can I really be enjoying that toasted sarnie so much? (Okay, maybe day two into the diet, I am inclined to say “YES YES YES!”, but there is something wrong with the connection between my brain and my stomach if I am able to wolf down so much in such a short amount of time. If I am “enjoying” it, what am I enjoying exactly? The taste? I don’t think so. The cheese in our local café is pretty tasteless. The carb rush? What is food doing to me when I eat it in such large quantities, and finish still wanting more? It occurs to me how little I know about the basic biology of food and the body. I never did biology in school beyond O Level, but that is no excuse. It’s my body, and it’s up to me to know how it works, so I don’t break the bloody thing before it’s warranty runs out.

Another issue is booze. I really like wine. Lots of. And apart from when I was pregnant and breastfeeding this is the first time in uncountable years that I will have gone for more than three days or so without even having a glass of something. I suspect this is an issue that will only raise its ugly head in about a week. Some old friends are coming to stay for the night at the weekend having moved to Oz about a year ago. No doubt the corks will be popping, glasses overflowing, and the banter running free. I don’t think they will have ever seen me [i]without[/i] a glass of booze in my hand. I will also be absent for a couple of hours of the evening at my “meeting”. I don’t know whether to tell them about Lighter Life, or whether to lie and say that I have to nip out to the out of hours surgery because I am sick (and hence can’t eat) to get some antibiotics (and hence I can’t drink.) and had to queue (hence the rude unexplained absence for a couple of hours). The latter sounds implausible, and will involve a convoluted web of lies about my health, lots of “poor me”s, and will also entail having to get the boy to lie too. Neither of us are any good at fibs, we always get things muddled. They will probably think that I have joined Alcoholics Anonymous and am being coy about it. Gah, I don’t know what to do. I think I’ll probably have to come clean about my secret club, and hope that they understand that by having to leave them for a couple of hours it shows that it is important to me. I was hoping to keep schtum about it for a while yet. At least until I looked a bit slimmer if nothing else.

I had a dream last night that I was out somewhere with the boy, and he was spreading some creamy butter on some hot toast, and I had a slice, and a few glasses of wine. (Obviously a very classy restaurant!) Suddenly I remember that I am on a strict diet prohibiting all food apart from my foodpacks, and go into a panic, because I have sent boy to the supermarket to get more wine. I am then stuffing my locker full with the bread with the intent to hide the key, but I am still worried about what will happen because I have “lapsed”. But I have lost the key, and I can’t lock the locker!! Panic! It all felt so real, and then I woke up, realised it was a dream and had a banana milkshake. It is clearly getting to me. :D

Day One!

I haven’t had much sleep. I have one of those persistent cough things, and didn’t want to do what I usually do, which is keep sucking on lozenges all night. So I hardly got any sleep. Now I have a stinker of a headache. Great. Apparently you get headaches because of the drop in carb intake, but I suspect my headache is more to do with lack of sleep. I was surprised how tasty the banana shake was, but then I was always a sucker for those artificial tasting banana chewits sweets. The difficulty this morning was remembering not to eat anything. I almost downed one of those probiotic drinks before I remembered that it was out. And my first cup of tea went down the sink before passing my lips because I had made it in my half awake state with milk.
I was so busy clearing out the fridge and doing the washing, it has got to 2.30 and I haven’t even thought about lunch.

It’s too hot for soups. If I were not on this diet I would have already tucked into a cheese and salad baguette, and would be on my third diet coke, my fifth cup of milky tea, and possibly a crunchie. The vegetable soup is okay. Cup – a – Soup –ish as expected, but not vile. The choices were Mushroom (NO WAY! I hate mushroom anything, bleurgh.) Chicken, (I don’t eat chicken in real life, so not to gone on the idea of chicken soup), Thai Chilli, and Vegetable. I got mostly vegetable, as I suspect I will hate the Thai Chilli, which means I now will be eating mostly vegetable soup for the next while. It is a pity that they don’t have more flavour options. Onion soup or tomato soup for instance. I have had two drinks of water with the fruits of the forest flavour, and it is not great to be honest. However, I can see it’s value when you want a change from plain old H20. I am addicted to Diet Coke, and it can’t be more horrid than that once you get used to it? I didn’t think the 4 litres a day would be a problem, but it is 5pm on a very hot day, and I am only about 2 litres in, and that [i]includes[/i] the 400ml from the foodpacks. I bought some decaff Earl Grey to sip on tonight, and some sparkling water. So will just have to get used to sipping away. Pretend it is wine! Tea without milk is a bit odd. But some people think tea without sugar is odd, so it’s a taste thing.

First Meeting of Lighterlife!

So now I face 100 days of eating nothing but what look like dodgy cup-a-soups. Am I mad?

My first meeting was interesting. Six other women, all overweight. One lady didn’t look remotely obese to me. She is very tall, and is an example of someone who “carries it well”. She doesn’t seem to have a tummy at all! However, she said that she was 15 stone when she started 2 weeks ago. She has lost 13 lbs in a fortnight. Like me, she has children. Apart from our counsellor, I don’t think the others do. Another girl looks like she has a lot to lose. This was her second meeting. She lost 10 lbs in her first week. Girl number 3 who is very enthusiastic about the programme, has lost a stone in her first 2 weeks. A young girl who just started in the middle of last week, I don’t know how much she lost, 4 lbs or something. Bless her, she is just dying to get into a bikini! Another lady is here for her second time around having lost 3 stone before, but started regaining. And the other person who was at the information session, thank goodness, so I’m not the only new person. Something that struck me about these women is that they are all pretty. I don’t mean that in a glib way, they genuinely are pretty women. They are the type of girls who would turn heads in a club or a bar despite their extra weight. Perhaps that is part of the reason they got so overweight. They carry it well, it suits them. They all have lovely swishy hair and clear skin. I feel like the frump of the group to be honest. The slummy mummy. I suppose the fact that I am there at all is a sign that I haven’t given up on myself just yet.

It is interesting that we are all on the same amount of food packs despite our different heights and sizes. In Weightwatchers you could consume more “points” if you were bigger. I wonder if the men have more food packs. They apparently do the foundation programme for a shorter period of time. There is a lot of emphasis on clothes among the women’s group that I imagine is not replicated in the men’s group. What is their emphasis. Fitness? Pulling? :D

How did I get so overweight?

My weight at the first meeting is 80.6 kilos or 12.95, with a BMI of 31.4. Fanbloodytastic. How did I get to this? I wasn’t overweight as a child, or as a teenager. In fact, the first time I really put on proper overweight weight was a period in my early twenties. I had just started my first proper job after finishing a postgraduate degree, and my boyfriend had moved in with me. We both worked long hours, and our spare time revolved around going to the pub, going to the Indian restaurant at the end of the road, ordering out takeaway pizzas, beers and videos. We loved our food and drink. Still do. Yes, we are still together 15 or so odd years later, and our idea of a perfect night is still takeaway pizza and beers. True love eh?

Anyway, I saw the extra stone creep on, and made an effort to keep it in check. It wasn’t until we bought our first house, which involved a herculean commute involving lots of running for buses, that the weight dropped off properly. This was partly because I changed jobs, my hours were longer, which meant that I wasn’t eating gigantic meals, and I spent a lot of time walking. I was back to my teenage litheness. My work outfits were size 8 to 10. My figure was wonderful, in retrospect, but of course, like everyone, I didn’t quite see it. It was a period of confidence for me. I felt like I had power over myself and others. I applied for my dream job, got it, and cockily negotiated a payrise. My new job involved moving away, so I packed up my life, left my home, friends and family, and danced off into the unknown. It was scary but exhilarating. I was a hit. The pretty “bright young thing” of the mostly male company. And more than a bit of a flirt. I could get anything done by flashing a friendly smile. Clearly alarmed, my boyfriend decided to join me in my new city six months later. ;) He was still working away a lot, but by now I had made some friends from outside work and I continued to eat out and go to the pub every night. People used to marvel at how much I could eat and yet remain slim. I suppose it was a marvel. The only exercise I was getting really was the 40 minute brisk walk to work. But then there was the 40 minute walk back from work, and the 40 minutes brisk walks to the restaurants/pubs/friends houses. I walked everywhere.

Then, something happened. It's not something I really want to go into too much, but it brought me down to earth with a bump. The basics are that somebody got a tad obsessed with me, and stalked me a bit, and I felt like I was to blame for putting the image across as being someone available, for flaunting my feminine wiles if you like.

I don’t know why this all affected me so much, but it sunk me into a deep depression. Perhaps there were other things contributing, perhaps I was having misgivings about my relationship with my boyfriend, and then there was another friend I loved and depended upon so much for company who was moving to another country and I knew we would never be as close again. Perhaps I felt like I wasn’t good enough at work, but for whatever reason, I lost my mojo. I was already eating and drinking too much, but the combination of luck and exercise that had previously kept off the pounds began to wane. I probably started eating more too. I certainly started drinking more, and drinking more at home. The weight began to pile on. It piled on remarkably quickly too; within the space of 6 months or so. I was no longer the bright young thing in the company. I was the tired plump has-been. I felt like I had let people down, that I had underachieved, that people thought I could have done better. I don’t know how much of all this was in my head, but the pictures I saw of myself, when I saw myself in the mirror, this all reinforced this image.

I did pull myself together a bit over the next few years, and lost a bit of weight, but by now I was about 2 stone heavier than I was when I was when at my most comfortable. It was about then, aged 30 that I fell pregnant.

It was a very welcome pregnancy. I didn’t think I could get pregnant without help, as I had been diagnosed with PCOS at 19, and had basically given up on contraception for ten years, so it was a huge surprise. A delightful accident. Myself and boyfriend had already decided that we were ready for children, so the timing couldn’t have been better. Although, it would have been nicer to be more fit. It was a straightforward pregnancy, and I gave birth to a lovely baby girl. While pregnant, my boyfriends work had moved site to several hundred miles away, and he was earning a great deal more than me. Although I really liked my job, despite my slump in confidence, I decided to move with him as soon as the baby was born, and give up my job, concentrating on the baby. Although I loved being with my little girl, and the independence of being in charge of my own time (within the confines of the dictatorship of a small baby), I think it redefined who I was to myself. And I wasn’t quite sure what or who I was anymore. I also left my friends behind, and became quite a solitary person. As any new mother will tell you, having a baby is pretty much the most fundamental change in your life. Your focus utterly changes. Add that to suddenly being at home all the time rather than at work, and, in my case, a complete change of location, a new house removal of support network, and basically dropping my career, I guess it was more of a change than many would wish for. I didn’t know quite how to deal with it. But I muddled by, somewhat baffled by my new overwhelming love for my child, and a nagging suspicion that somehow I was doing it all wrong. The weight was piling back on again. I joined weightwatchers, and lost 11lbs over 6 weeks. I then lost interest as the loss fell to a half pound a week. Increasingly I found myself using up too much of my daily allowance with wine, and there is only so much 0 point soup you can tolerate!

I got pregnant when my daughter was almost three. This time it was planned. I was much heavier and less mobile for this pregnancy, and it didn’t help. It was an awful pregnancy. I was run down and sick throughout, and spent most of it in a lump on the sofa feeling sorry for myself. I clearly was suffering from ante-natal depression (yes there is such a thing!) but I didn’t realise it at the time. Like my daughter when she was born, I fell in love with my son from the moment I set eyes on him, but he was a demanding little fellow, and I felt consumed with guilt about neglecting my daughter to constantly attend to him. I don’t think I ever really recovered from that period of nothingness during the pregnancy. And physically, I was at my lowest ebb. Breastfeeding was difficult, but I kept it up until he was over a year. Eating more was a bonus, but I must have eaten for ten, not two.

Once I stopped breastfeeding, I didn’t think it possible to put on more weight, but I did. Although I hardly ever go to pubs or restaurants these days (kids eh?), I somehow manage to consume vast amounts of food and guzzle wine with alarming frequency. If I make a cheese toasty, I will make two at the same time “May as well, since I will feel like a second”, with lots of salad piled on top. Those M&S ready meals designed for 2, are just about enough for one meal. Despite having had a healthy overfull bowl of all bran in the morning with a chopped banana, if boy wants to head to the café for a cappuccino and cheese toastie at 10am, I’m in. Second breakfast, or brunch. Then lunch. In the evenings, half a bottle of wine never feels like quite enough, and I feel so gratified when boy just feels like a glass or has beer instead so I can have more.

So, in short, that’s how I got to weigh 12 stone and 9, the heaviest I have ever been. Which for my 5ft 3 frame puts me in the “obese” category.

Slimfast with psychology

I have to get a form filled in by my doctor with my blood pressure on it, and other such things. £20 quid already. At least she didn’t tell me not to do it, which I was worried about. She asked me what it was about, and I told her it was basically substituting food for nutrient rich milkshakes, with counselling every week. “Hmm. Slimfast with psychology…” she mused. I rather like that description. She wishes me luck. Thanks, I think I’ll need it!

Maybe if I lost some weight...

I went to the information session for Lighter Life today, having seen an advert for it somewhere and then doing a google search. I’m surprised how much it costs, £66 per week! Blimey. But then, I wonder how much I spend on food and drink every week for my large body? The DVD was persuasive, lots of stories showing people who were very overweight, who now look amazing. They seem almost evangelical about their diet. I am in two minds. I always sneered at the idea of Slimfast. The sheer idea of putting nasty artificial additive laden strawberry flavour milk shake into my gut instead of lots of healthy fresh fruit and veg. It just didn’t make any sense to me. I did not realise until this info session that the diet involves abstaining completely from ALL food, even skimmed milk in your tea, and instead subsisting on “food packs” taking the form of sachets of powder, to make soups and milkshakes. There are also strange looking breakfast bar things. I am trying to persuade myself that it is more like astronaut food, rather than desperate to lose weight food. But I am not sure I will be able to get my head around it. There is only two of us at the info session. The other girl at the info session seems keen to start. She has her wedding in about six months, and this provides her with a very solid goal. She hasn’t even gone in to a bridal dress shop yet because she is dreading the fitting so much. She wants to start enjoying it rather than dreading it. I have a family wedding in a few months too, and while I will barely be a blip in people’s attention, I don’t want people to be looking at me in amazement that I have managed to gain so much weight since they last saw me. Although a size 14 in trousers (albeit with a sizeable muffin top), I am anything from a 16 to 18 on top.

I have to do SOMETHING. And this looks like it might be the right thing. It takes away food altogether for a while, so you can focus on losing weight at first, rather than getting confused with portion sizes and getting tempted to eat more than you should, and then getting fed up and saying “sod it, I’m having chips!” The great motivation is the fast weight-loss, with people losing up to a stone in their first two to three weeks. My battle with my weight is largely psychological. Losing a stone in itself would be a great boost, and would, I feel, spur me on.

The counsellor, LLC is a nice, confident woman. I feel at ease with her. I hope that the other girl comes back for the first session so I am not the only newbie.

I take home the magazine LLC gives me and read it from cover to cover. The transformations truly look amazing. I’m hooked. Put me on it NOW! Oh well. Perhaps I should make the most of my last few days of my bad diet. Bring on the pizza…

A bit pished

I have had a couple of glasses of wine tonight. It is taking a while to type this, with all of the backspacing and correcting. My head is as bad, in fact worse than ever. HAven't left the house in 3 days. I need to go to the post office, but couldn't do it. Head wreck.

I need to hooover. Hoocer . Hoioover.

Compl353 jok3.

Hqd wom35hint impo4q6q6 6o pow6 6onih5.



Shit. Bad. Tie for bed.

Had a good morning this morning, but I'm so HEAVY.

It's funny how the small things can make you feel better. By simply cleaning the kitchen, doing the washing up, cleaning the surfaces, polishing the living and dining room I feel so much lighter. The problem with housework is that when you give it a day or two, it looks worse than when you started. Particularly when you have a dog that sheds. She had a haircut last week, but she is still doing her spring shedding thing.

On a lower note, I weighed myself today. 12lbs and 2oz!!!! How did that happen? (Well, I know HOW. Bread. Cheese. Wine. Cake.) It has to stop. This is the heaviest I have ever been. I am going to a wedding in 6 months, I can't let people see me like this. I will try and make it a focus to lose some weight. Is 3 ounces a week reasonable? Bread is out, gone, zapped. Cheese... just a tiny bit. I don't eat meat, so it is harder to ditch cheese. As for wine, um...

Apparently green tea can help to suppress the appetite. I might give that a try too. What is a good weigh in day? Monday seems a bit cruel, being just after the weekend, but then, when is a good day for weigh ins? Anyway, wish me luck.

Oh, loook! A brand new blog!

Lets see. Will this be like those dreadful diaries as a school kid that never lasted beyond 7th January. Hmm. The idea is that I start a mood diary. My CBT counsellor said it would help. I find it hard to find the motivation to do it. It just feels sometimes like I am chipping away at an insurmountable block of granite. Today was our last session. Overall, I feel like it was a waste of my time, her time, and of NHS resources, but a few things she said have rung true. She said that although I claim to "know" intellectually what depression is, I have an inability to allow myself to have it, or to understand that it is depression that is making my life difficult, and that it is that, not myself, that I need to take to task. Apparently, I am hard on myself and don't cut myself any slack. I should say that I am finding it hard to undertake the tasks she sets me because I have a low mood, not because I am lazy or pointless. It made more sense the way she said it. Now that I write it down it doesn't seem as light-bulbish.

I have purchased the beat depression book by Alexandra Massey. I am crap at reading these sort of books. So we'll see. The kids don't like me to read books or do stuff on the computer when I could be reading them books or playing shop or whatnot. :rolleyes:

One probelm is that I leave the session feeling empowered, and thinking "yes! that made sense." but within an hour, I have completely forgotten what has happened. My memory has got even more shocking over the last year or so. How much that has to do with the depression I simply don't know.

During the sessions, we identified that my tendency to numb stuff out has made me feel very flat. It is my coping mechanism for dealing with anxiety and panicky thoughts. It is easier to shrug and say, there is no point in trying to overcome this because I will fail. The counsellor tried to impart to me that it is the depression making me think this way, and not an intrinsic laziness or flaw in myself. So I need to CHANGE my flawed thinking patterns. And the only way I can do this is by putting things down in a thought diary, and looking at each bit, by bit. Breaking it down into bitesized chunks. Through trying to do small things, bit by bit.


Not quite sure what else to write now. I should be making the kid's dinner, so had best get on with that. The house is a pit, I have done nothing but chase my tail all day.*

*Good example of the sort of negative thinking my counsellor would flag and note down. Hmm.