Saturday, 3 August 2024

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.

















Wednesday, 1 May 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.