Here endeth my ode.
Right, you’re aware that of late I’ve been a ‘slug?’ So it turns out [cue drum-roll please], there is a reason that I have been so slug-like.
And it’s all my bleeding fault.
You’ll have noted from my previous post that woe be to those that mention ‘exercise,’ ‘diet tips,’ their own elixir of twigdom that made them slightly less fat than they were before and/or any other suggestion for weight-loss. This isn’t because I didn’t want to do the hard work involved in losing weight, it’s because I’d f**king tried it already.
Honestly, I jogged, I yoga’d, I callen… (whatever the hell you call it)’d, I cut out carbs, I did the Atikins diet, I ate healthily (according to my food-technologist Grandfather), I followed the soup & yogurt diet… I did it all.
And I gained.
Honestly, how do you live off of only liquids and still gain weight? I managed it.
Eventually, the slug slithered off to the doctor. He held no insights, as my slug bloods came back proving that I was a veritable human. He weighed me.
Before I go on, please note, in past years, I’ve shed as many tears as a statue of the Virgin Mary (here our similarities stop). The result of my weigh-in showed that I had gained an enormous 10kg….in one month.
I couldn’t camp out in the middle of McDonalds and gain that amount of weight.
I burst into tears in this strange doctor’s office. So, off I pop to the dietician, thinking that this is surely it. The end of the road. The doctor says there’s nothing wrong with me and the dietician will tell me to live the life of a squirrel…and I’ll still not lose weight.
Firstly, she took one look at what I was eating and dropped her pen.
My problem: starvation. I’ve been on diets for well over a year and have cut out almost all carbs. My body decided to go into ‘survival’ mode, kicked up my insulin and squirreled away (ooh look, another squirrel) the fat into my tummy, thighs, arms and even my chin…just in case.
The solution: Eat bread.
Well, not exactly that, but I have to eat sh*t loads of specific carbs, to get my body back in order. Seed bread, not white, but lots. Oily fish (puke, but I’ll do it) and other stuff like BAKED BEANS (f**k yeah!).
This is heaven. She actually has ‘sandwiches’ in my diet plan. Sandwiches??? It’s like cake to other fat people. I love my carbs so much and I haven’t had any for so long.
The only thing I shall miss is cheese. I’m not allowed cheddar, but am allowed mozzarella.
Can someone please tell me the point of mozzarella? I’m determined to prove that it’s not a food, but merely some form of edible rubber whose sole purpose is to keep the pizza topping from falling off.
I can eat bread AND have booze! Granted, only 1-2 glasses of wine for three nights a week, the rest is a no go and no, I’m not allowed to accumulate my ‘units.’
I ate according to the guidelines yesterday. I nearly puked I ate so much, but I scoffed it all down. Lo’ and behold, I actually slept! I also find myself in control of my emotions. On a sad note, my dog, Mathilda, had to be put down this morning. In the last few months, I would have been inconsolable, unable to deal with her parting and unable to help my parents as a result. After eating well yesterday, I’m in control of my emotions. I shed my tears when I came home, but only a little and I helped my parents through their grief.
I have once again found my ‘off-switch.’
To my fellow dieters, I bid you farewell.
Go forth and gorge