The long and the short of it

This morning I did something that was quite a massive thing for me. I wore shorts. I've never ever worn shorts to run in (or do anything in for that matter) as an adult as I wouldn't have dared wear them when I was big and then when I lost my weight my self-consciousness about my size was replaced with a self-consciousness about the loose skin I have as a consequence of my weight loss. Back in June when I got my tattoo the tattoo artist told me not to wear anything tight fitting for a while to allow my leg to heal and because I was meant to be taking part in the Blaydon Race later that same week I bought a pair of black shorts to run in. I came down with a chesty cold 2 days before the Blaydon Race so couldn't do it after all so the shorts stayed in the drawer. Ever since then I've vowed to pluck up the courage to wear them for Parkrun when it fell on a hot day so this morning seemed as good an opportunity as any. The prospect of being seen in public (let alone by 300+ other Parkrunners gathered together in one place) in shorts filled me with dread and I nearly talked myself out of it numerous times on the drive along to Blyth. When I arrived I stayed in my car as long as possible as I was feeling so nervous and anxious. I know I didn't have to do it and nobody had a gun to my head but I wanted to overcome my fear of people seeing my wobbly legs once and for all and I wanted to show off my tattoos as I don't think many people know I actually have tattoos because they hardly ever see the light of day. So I'm really, really, really, really proud of myself for getting out of that car and taking my place among over 300 people at the start before going on to run past fellow runners and members of the public for 3 loops of the course and letting the world see my hitherto hidden flab and body art. I know it's probably not a big deal to anyone else but it's huge to me. I may never wear the shorts again but I did it once and that's all that matters to me.

6 June 2024

May

So today is the 1st of May. A new month. A blank page in the diary. A fresh start. And for me it HAS to mean a complete reset. Because this cartoon has been my reality over the last few months and I cannot let it continue. 

Every Christmas I allow myself to eat unhealthy food in copious amounts like 99.9% of the population does over the festive period. Then in January I always - without fail - revert to the strict regime I follow for the rest of the year (with the odd wobble allowing for Easter and my birthday) as I know it is the only way I can keep myself in check and stop the weight I've lost going back on. 

Well despite getting back on track on 1st January 2024 I've had at least one epic food binge every month since then. Sometimes these binges have only lasted minutes, sometimes hours, sometimes days. 

I looked back through my phone to help me document these binges and to see if I could find any patterns, reasons or explanations for them but aside from using my Mam's birthday and Valentine's Day as excuses to over indulge I have drawn a blank as to why I've repeatedly allowed myself to succumb to the cravings I usually have enough strength to ignore.  

The binges happened on: 

11th - 12th January

14th - 15th February

2nd March

22nd - 24th March

7th April

10th April

27th - 29th April

Most of my binges have involved me frantically searching through the cupboards and the fridge like a woman possessed grabbing at and inhaling the biscuits, cakes, chocolate, sweets and crisps that we keep in for when my Mam fancies a treat or to offer guests. Usually I don't even think about or look at these foods as I tend to buy my own supply of healthier snacks but when the binges have happened all willpower and sensibility has left me and I have devoured food with wanton abandon. But what is even worse is that on 2 occasions the urge to eat the stuff I used to eat on a daily basis but have resisted for 7 years has been so overpoweringly strong that I have actually driven to the supermarket to purposely buy a shed load of chocolate bars, crisps and biscuits then either ate them in the car in the car park or took them home and spent the rest of the night ingesting them without even tasting them. 

After every binge my body has made it abundantly clear that it is not happy and it doesn't understand what the hell has just happened to it. Particularly my tummy and digestive system. They have not responded well to my usual diet of fruit, vegetables and low fat foods being temporarily replaced with a year's worth of sugar, additives and calories. I've suffered very badly with painful bloating, stomach cramps and horrific wind as well as an overall feeling of physical unwellness. 

But the mental backlash is a whole other kettle of fish! After every binge I've experienced a degree of self loathing on a scale I never thought possible. I've felt like the worst version of myself. I've despised myself. I've hated that I've allowed myself to lose control to such an extreme extent. I've felt like a failure, a fake, a liar, an idiot and an utter disgrace.

And as if that barrage of negative thoughts were not enough of an onslaught to my mental health the abject shame I feel when I climb on the scales and see the post-binge weight gains result in a whole other level of disgust. My body is weird. Some people can go on all-inclusive holidays for a fortnight and gain 2lb. I can gain 6 or 7lbs in a day and nigh on a stone after a weekend long binge. And even though I know a huge gain is inevitable after a binge when I actually see that the numbers have gone up so drastically knowing how hard I've had to work to lose weight and look how I now look - with the added bonus of seeing numbers on the scale I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd see - it makes me feel sad, angry, frustrated, disappointed, weak and pathetic. 

 

After every binge I feel like I am on a giant Snakes and Ladders board and I've slid right back to the beginning of the game. The logical part of my brain knows I haven't re-gained 12 stone overnight but the irrational part says I am back to the nearly 23 stone person I was before my life changed unrecognisably.  

It didn't occur to me until I looked at the dates of my binges that they have happened every month between January and April. April ended with a binge. I need May to be my first binge-free month of 2024 and be like the previous 86 months since my metamorphosis began. I need to make it through this new month without having a binge to break the cycle and prove to myself that I'm not slipping back in to old habits. I need this.

When I lose control and binge my mental health - which hasn't been the best in the past - suffers far more than my body does. I berate myself constantly and lose all sense of proportion. I don't like that me. When I'm in control I feel positive and happy and can occasionally tell myself good things and remind myself of my achievements. I like that me.    

So when binging leads to such a dreadful array of repercussions why the hell do I keep doing it? Why? Can anyone tell me because I certainly don't know. 

Seeing With Your Heart

Paul

From the minute I first saw Lily Savage on TV in 1993 I loved her. I loved her persona, her stories, her foul mouth and her hilarious take on life. I was 12 and my Mam never worried about me watching Lily's x-rated shows as she knew I was sensible and wouldn't repeat anything Lily said to my friends and family. Most 12 year olds wouldn't have been interested in Lily but as I'd always been around adults I totally got Lily's jokes and knew exactly where she was coming from with her down to earth, gritty tales and I was familiar with the type of characters she talked about in her working class world. Being a lonely kid and teenager I'd always taken solace in watching telly and films and I had many idols growing up. Lily became one of them. I collected stuff about her and made a scrapbook and my Mam bought me her VHS tapes for birthday and Christmas presents. When Lily released a book I begged my Mam to buy it for me even though it was ages until my next birthday and she did. And in June 1996 my Mam took me to see Lily in Prisoner Cell Block H The Musical at Sunderland Empire. She secretly asked one of the Ushers if they would take my programme backstage and ask Lily to sign it. Not only did Lily sign it but so did Bella Emberg, Linda Nolan and Maggie Kirkpatrick. I was absolutely blown away! I continued to follow Lily for years and watched everything she appeared on. When Paul O'Grady decided to step out of Lily's shadow I was sad but I was looking forward to finally seeing the man behind his blonde bomb-site alter ego. I could not have known then that I would end up loving Paul just as much, if not more, as I loved Lily! As soon as Paul started appearing on chat shows I realised he was just as funny as himself as he was as Lily. Because Lily was Paul and Paul was Lily. It was just him. He was naturally funny, charismatic, clever, acerbic, entertaining, unashamed and unfiltered. Paul realised he didn't need the wig and frock to be funny and thankfully I and his other fans realised that too and looked forward to seeing what projects Paul would do now that Lily had "retired". His tea-time chat shows were a brilliant vehicle for him. They were the perfect blend of celeb interviews, comedy, banter and Paul first showing off his love of dogs by sharing the screen with his gorgeous sidekicks Buster and Olga. I had the absolute privilege of being invited to be in the audience of one of his shows in April 2008 when he was going to be interviewing another hero of mine, Dame Angela Lansbury. I'll never forget that day. I was less than 20 feet away from 2 of my favourite people and I kept crying as I couldn't believe how lucky I was. Paul in real life was EXACTLY the same as he was on TV. In the ad breaks when the cameras weren't rolling he would turn the air blue with stories including expletives and made the whole place roar with laughter. A really genuine guy who knew how to make people happy. When he started releasing his autobiographies I would get each book as soon as they were published and devour them in days. They are the only books I have literally laughed out loud while reading. His way with words was unique. My Mam and I looked forward to every series of For The Love Of Dogs and loved his wildlife shows filmed at sanctuaries in Africa. They demonstrated to the world that Paul was not just a amazing entertainer but that he loved pets and animals of all kinds and he put his money where his mouth is and got stuck in bathing orphaned elephants, nursing injured orangutans, worming and fleaing dogs, cleaning kennels and personally adopting at least 3 dogs from Battersea.  What he did by using his name and fame to help Battersea rehome abused and abandoned dogs was phenomenal. When he began his Sunday afternoon Radio 2 show my Mam and I would listen every single week. I had a few of my emails read out over the years and was buzzing every time Paul would mention us. When he left I was gutted but so excited when I found out he and Malcolm were going to be doing a new show on Boom Radio from this Easter. My Mam and I saw Paul 3 weeks ago in Annie at Newcastle Theatre Royal and it was incredible seeing him on stage again. It was especially wonderful seeing him as Miss Hannigan as it is a role he played in the West End 25 years ago but I never got to see him as I was only 16 and that was before my solo London adventures began. My Mam and I saw him twice that week and loved every second of the 2 shows. His performances were electric and well worth the 5 month wait from when the tour was first announced. We bought our tickets as soon as they went on sale in October and counted down the weeks and were worried that we might not be able to make it after my Mam was poorly but she was determined she wasn't going to miss seeing Paul. After we watched the matinee on Thursday 9th March we stood at the Stage Door hoping to meet him but it began snowing so we had to leave. For the rest of the afternoon I hummed and hawed but felt I had to go back that evening as I was desperate to meet him and I knew him being in Newcastle was probably going to be my only chance as after my Mam's latest illness and operation I didn't know when and if she and I would be able to travel to London or wherever Paul may be performing in the future. It was blizzarding down as I drove back up to Newcastle that night and I stood in the freezing cold for 45 minutes but I'm so glad I did. I finally got to meet the man I'd been a fan of for 30 years. I got tongue tied and wasn't able to really tell him how much he meant to me but he was lovely as I rambled on and he signed my programme (as Paul not Lily this time) and posed for a selfie and when I could finally string a coherent sentence together I plucked up the courage to ask if he would do a quick video to say hello to my Mam as I knew how much she would have loved to have met him too if she could have gone back up to the theatre with me. At first, in his typical forthright but humorous style, he protested and said "Oh God I hate doing videos" but after a nanosecond's hesitation he said "Oh go on then" and he recorded a very special message which I sent my Mam immediately and she was overjoyed at. I'm so glad I went back that night. I'm so glad I met him. I'm so glad I got to spend a few minutes with one of my heroes. I'm so glad I got to see him on stage again after 27 years. I'm so glad I have my selfie, video and autograph. I'm so glad I have those memories of meeting him to cherish for the rest of my life. I'm so glad I have loved Paul O'Grady for 30 years. I'm so glad Paul O'Grady existed in this world for 67 and a half years. I'm devastated that he has now gone. It is unfathomable that the world will never see his face or hear his unmistakable voice ever again. It is over 15 hours since I first heard the news and it still feels unreal. Thank you Paul for making this 12 year old happy and continuing to make her happy for the next 30 years. Thank you for being you and making this world a better place. Look after yourself!

December Drawing Challenge