Category Archives: rules

Today

Today I had meal support and right afterwards I had my one-on-one session with my counsellor.

Today was kinda hard.

To start with I didn’t want to get out of bed. I’m tired. All. The. Time. I’ve been cancelling on people, calling in sick to work, “accidentally” not setting my alarm so I wake up too late to get somewhere so I then roll over and sleep some more, I’m just so tired.

Then there is the issue of carbs.

I love carbs.

I hate carbs.

I am supposed to be a low carb eater, that is how I present myself to the world at least, but when I binge I binge on carbs like you wouldn’t believe. Well, carbs and ice cream..and a crap ton of other stuff, but the main component is carbs. Man I love carbs *wistful sigh*

In front of people however, I do not eat carbs. Let me stress this for you so you understand how serious I am about this…I DO NOT EAT CARBS!

Except at meal support there is no option. I have to take a balanced meal with a protein, a fruit / veg, a dairy, and a carb…they call it grain, I call it carb.

The carb and dairy component are the hardest parts for me. I have figured out I can manage greek yoghurt with some fruit in it without too much issue but the carb, kills me every week. I keep trying different things, a dinner bun, a piece of bread, counted out crackers, two ingredient dough turned in to something. I absolutely refuse to eat rice, potato, pasta, starchy veg, a sandwich (takes two pieces of bread and I can barely manage one), or any other form of carb you can think of.

Today I tried a bran muffin that I made myself the night before. There was nothing wrong with it, tastes good, but I reeeeally didn’t want to eat it in that room, in front of people, or at all really. I would have been quite content to throw it away having never eaten a crumb.

Meal support is hard for me for a lot of reasons, the eating in front of people part, the time of day the meal is, having to eat everything within 20-30 minutes, having to eat so much in one sitting, not being able to leave right afterwards. I get in that room and I feel trapped by the people, the food, the choices in food I made, the clock, everything.

Today I was trapped by the muffin. I tried to convince the person running group half the muffin should be enough but nope, apparently it isn’t.

In the end I ate it, and have been dealing with the emotional fallout for the rest of the day.

Then there was my one-on-one session, which wasn’t too too bad. I like talking to him, but some weeks are harder than others and this week I had a specific thing I wanted to talk to him about (which I did) but I also wanted to ask him some questions but I ran out of time and couldn’t. Plus I feel like an idiot half the time, ok fine, all the time, because oh woe is me I have issues with food and need someone to talk to…when there are people starving, or in actual bad life situations, and here I am being a drain on the medical system. sigh. That may or may not be me minimizing my issues to try to guilt myself in to quitting recovery…something I suppose I should bring up to my counsellor at some point *rolls eyes* So yeah, today was one of those days where I feel like an idiot for my issues, plus I feel tired, plus I ate that fuckin muffin, what was I thinking making those??

And now it is late at night in my time zone, I never made it to the gym thanks to being sucked in to the Olympics and because I’m tired (I feel like I’ve written that a thousand times, sorry!), before I know it my work week will be ramping up again, and I dunno, life just seems harder today. Which makes me feel guilty because other people’s lives are so much worse I should just be grateful for what I have that is good and suck up the shitty stuff. Right? Maybe? I dunno.

I’m tired.

Today was hard.

I’m going to bed.

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An Odd Stressor

At one of my jobs I get fed when on shift. They make amazing food there, better than anything I could ever make, and depending on what they are making will depend on if I eat at work.

Over the years (cause yes, I’ve been there yeeeeears) the chef’s have gotten used to my quirks, sorta. I get teased by some of them about not eating certain things, or lectured by others about needing more fat in my diet, but even the ones that tease me respect my food choices…they can’t really argue with them when I’ve dropped weight and everyone thinks I’m oh so healthy *rolls eyes* At work I eat lean protein and vegetables. Exciting huh?

It is usually fish, or chicken, or turkey, or eggs, for the protein. The veggies vary widely. I don’t eat starchy vegetables, (ex. corn or peas) but I eat a bunch of the other veggies. I steer clear of carbs in any obvious form…I say obvious because all veggies have carbs in them but I’ll eat say, asparagus, but not potatoes or rice or other higher carb food items. Does that make sense?…I mean, in the way weird food rules can make sense? lol

There is one food I don’t eat, and haven’t eaten in more years than I can remember, that is not on my no-go list because of my eating disorder but because of broader reasons.

I don’t eat pork, in any form. It started because I don’t care for the taste or texture of most pork products and from there it expanded to not wanting to eat pigs because they are ridiculously intelligent, freakin adorable, and ethically I don’t feel right about it.

All the chefs at work know I don’t eat pork. One of them teases me by saying pork is in everything (from the egg salad mix, to the vegetables, to the fruit salad), it is a long running joke at this point.

Last week I worked an extra shift and the chef working asked if I would eat the meatloaf for dinner. I didn’t want to, it looked too greasy, I felt I had less control over it (as if I somehow control the salmon they feed me on other days? *rolls eyes*) and I dunno, it rang all kinds of alert bells in my head as a “no” food. Sooooo, trying to get out of it I asked what was in it. He said it was fine, and gave me a tiny piece to taste. I tasted it, it wasn’t horrible, I figured I had plans to work out after work so maybe I could do this, and I said fine I’d eat the meatloaf.

I wasn’t happy about it but I was trying to think of it as testing my comfort level.

Then someone else at work mentioned they weren’t eating the meatloaf because it was a combo of three meats and they didn’t like the sound of that.

Three meats? What three meats? I was led to believe it was beef…

I asked the head Chef what meat was used in the meatloaf and he said beef, veal, and pork.

I ate pork.

I want to cry.

Even thinking about it days and days later makes me feel nauseous and teary and disgusted.

I went back to the chef who gave me the piece to try and snapped at him, turns out he assumed it was beef, didn’t actually check, the jackass.

Now, I think a more normal person would be pissed, but get over it, and the next day be fine with getting their meal at work, especially when it is fish and there is no chance of a mistake being made and they would be fed pork again.

But who says my brain does normal? I was stressing out about my meal at work all day (I worked the evening shift so I was getting fed dinner). What was going to be on the menu? Could I trust any food coming from the kitchen? Did I want to eat from that kitchen ever again? Maybe I should just not eat.

Somehow my brain went from one chef making an assumption and accidentally giving me something with pork in it to I can’t trust any of the food that comes from that kitchen no matter which chef makes it so I should no longer eat at work.

Some days I want to smack my own head against a wall.

Just because I am irritated with my own thought process on this one doesn’t mean eating at work has become any easier since this incident. I can manage to eat vegetables, for the most part, but much more slowly than before and it takes a lot of convincing to get me to eat them…by that I mean me convincing myself, I don’t have some cheerleader that follows me around cheering me at my meals lol I’m poking and picking at my veggies more than I am eating them and using the excuse that they have gone cold and don’t taste good anymore as a reason to not finish them and just throw em out. Don’t even get me started on the protein side of things. Since the pork incident I’ve been given salmon, chicken, hard boiled eggs, and turkey…of those I was able to eat without issue the hard boiled egg, everything else I pick at, take nibbles of, and then swear it feels like a lead ball in my stomach.

I don’t want to eat the food.

I seamlessly went from not sure I can trust the food, to nope I can’t trust the food, to the food makes me feel unwell in my tummy (further reinforcing why I shouldn’t bother with eating), to guess I’m not gonna eat at work anymore.

Which correct me if I’m wrong but just might be me going in the wrong direction recovery wise.

I don’t know how to fix it. And to be honest, I don’t know how driven I feel to fix it. Part of me feels like not eating at work is a good thing because really, I don’t have any control over that food, I don’t cook it, or prep it, there are probably all kinds of hidden calories in that food, it is probably better for me if I don’t eat at work. And no, I won’t take food to work cause, well, that’s a whole other blog post of crazy, but in my world that isn’t an option, so I am essentially backing myself in to a corner of self-imposed food restriction for 4-5 days per week, 8 hours each of those days. Which isn’t soooo bad, I’ve done worse, but I’m trying to do better, except I appear to be a bit ambivalent about it.

Oh my god, see why I irritate myself?

I have my one-on-one session this Wednesday, let’s see if I can irritate my counsellor just as much as I am irritating myself. Arg!

Sick

Last work week (I work Fridays through Tuesdays) I got exposed to a plethora of germs because people at work decided that even though they were sick, like, super sick, they’d still come to work because “I never get sick, it isn’t that bad”…only to have to leave early because of just how sick they were.

I really, and I mean reeeally, hate when people come to work sick.

Keep your freakin germs to yourself people!

Anyways…

When I was leaving work Monday I was feeling it, the sore throat, the sniffles, the tiredness. Definite signs I was getting sick. I ran errands instead of going to the gym like I had planned and stocked up on DayQuil, kleenex, throat lozenges, the apple juice mentioned in a previous post, and Vitamin C drops.

A sick person’s survival kit!

I didn’t end up as sick as the others though and stupidly thought I’d managed to escape the horrible-wish-I-was-dead version of this illness. Now I think I might have just been incubating it and it is about ready to make itself fully known…just in time for my new work week. Fuck.

I spent Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday taking things easy. I mean, I still had things to do (a work shift Tuesday and two appointments Wednesday in regards to my eating disorder recovery) but other than those things I stayed at home, read books, cuddled with the cat, and tried to let my body rest.

Oh, and I took AirBorne, I swear by that stuff.

Wednesday I thought I was pretty much better and I’d be able to go to the gym Thursday, Thursday came though and omg I think I am getting worse. My voice is kinda going. My sinuses are doing worse (plugged and runny nose at the same time, super annoying!), I’m cold, can’t focus, basically a lot of the symptoms of, oh I don’t know, a sick person.

So tomorrow, because I can’t find someone to cover my shift I will be that person who goes to work sick, and spreads her germs. Ugh.

In regards to my eating disorder, getting sick like this does not help me at all. Well, unless you listen to my eating disorder, it is practically doing hand stands because of how little I am able to eat when sick.

Even when not sick I suck at following a meal plan but I try to eat twice a day…which depending on where you are in recovery sounds like not enough or way too much. To me it still sounds like too much, but I try really hard to manage it. It took a while to build up to that much food in one day and I don’t really like it, shrug.

When sick any thought of following a meal plan basically goes right out the window. My appetite disappears, nothing tastes right, I have even less interest in food. Most of my brain thinks these are all great things but the part of me that is learning shit in recovery knows that these aren’t great things.

My ed brain says:

Eating broth and drinking tea is a totally acceptable thing to do. One bowl of broth is definitely a days worth of calories.

My recovery side says:

Not enough food dumb ass.

My ed brain says:

You’re sick, you don’t have to eat when you’re sick. Don’t worry about it.

My recovery side says:

The less you eat the harder it is for your body to get better. You need nutrients to get better. Eat something!

My ed brain says:

If you’re going to eat something then you’re going to ruin all the benefits of being sick. Think of how quickly you’re losing weight right now. Think of how easy it is because you don’t have an appetite because you’re sick. Why throw that away? Be strong! Don’t eat! You don’t need food! But if you do eat then you might as well binge because you’re a failure, a loser who can’t manage the simple task of not eating. You don’t deserve to be skinny. You don’t deserve to get to your goal. If you’re going to eat then eat something ridiculous, something high calorie, something that will make you feel bloated, and overly full, and gross, because you deserve to feel all those things if you eat, because you failed.

My recovery side says:

It says nothing. Because it is barely a whisper in my mind on my best days and it can’t stand up to my ed brain when it is on a roll.

So here I am, sick. I did manage a meal the other day that had all 4 food groups in it. A small meal. Probably it is classified as more of a snack, but to me it is a meal. And a win.

Today…not so much.

Today I ate soup, though I had two bowls instead of one, which I guess counts for something. And I had some bread, because I am weak and I like bread…but is it weak that I like bread and choose to eat it or is it ok to eat something I like, in moderation…I question this but I know what I feel the answer is, it is weak, and I am weak for eating the bread. Just because I like it doesn’t mean I should eat it. I like a lot of things I don’t eat anymore. Bread is useless calories, unnecessary food, I should really get rid of it, sigh.

I weighed myself today and am down 3 pounds in three days. Which the majority of me is thrilled about, but also terrified I will screw up and as a result of the terror my brain has been screaming at me all day to not eat ever again or those three pounds will pile back on with a whole bunch more. But ya know what, I ate the soup anyways, so fuck you voice!

Oh god, I don’t mean it, I do mean it, I don’t know what I mean. I’m so confused.

I don’t want to be a lost cause to my recovery team. I don’t want to be one of those people who they feel is beyond their help and is let go so someone more deserving can be given help. I think I am one of those people though, and they’ll figure it out soon, and I’ll be left alone to deal with what is in my head, and I will fold to the ed and stop fighting even the small amount I am fighting, and I’ll be screwed.

You know, this post was going to be about how I lost three pounds in three days and isn’t that so great? But apparently I have other shit on my mind right now…who knew something could be bigger in my head then a lower number on the scale? This cold must be really messing with my brain. *rolls eyes*

Apple Juice

Once a week I have a session with a practicum student who will one day be a full on counselor, or therapist, or psychiatrist…I dunno, one of those. He is doing some practicum hours at the program I go to for help and I had the option of seeing him for sessions. It took a while but I eventually decided to give it a try.

We were talking today and he presented me with a challenge. I tend to link exercise (specifically, going to the gym) with food. If I eat certain foods then I have to go to the gym, no matter what, to work it off. The challenge is to break that connection. Also, I always do 30 minutes of cardio then weight work. He wants to see what happens if I don’t do the cardio, or if I lessen it, because the cardio is directly linked to my need to burn off what I ate.

I am not overly comfortable with either of these challenges, but I don’t think he’d suggest them if they were harmful, so I figured I might try.

I took a look at my watch around 8pm and realized I hadn’t eaten since, well, a lot earlier, and what I ate was something that would be classified as a snack only if I was being generous. I hadn’t exactly planned for today to be a “no eating” day, it just sorta turned out like that. And before you get all “uh-huh, yeah right, heard that one before!” I swear it is the truth.

So I had a dilemma. I was silently congratulating myself for getting so far in to the day on so few calories and thinking I’d make some tea to help ease my way through the rest of the night when I realized that was not pro-recovery thinking. sigh. I tried to think of what to do instead, I mean obviously the opposite of not eating is eating, but what, and how much, and do I really want to?

When I don’t eat for most of the day, or eat very little, I feel…proud…like I have accomplished something. I feel like if I eat something than all that work I put in to not eating (if it was a planned thing) will be wasted. If it wasn’t done on purpose, I feel like this unexpected boon of a calorie deficit should not be ruined by eating something.  It’s like…I managed to do something a lot of people don’t do, and this thing that I did, this not eating, is getting me closer to my goal of being skinnier, so why throw that success out the window just because pro-recovery people think I should eat more often.

Does that make any sense? I’m probably not explaining it well…

So I’m sitting in my living room, trying to decide what to eat, and how much, when I glance at my tea mug and see my glass of apple juice sitting beside it.

I don’t drink my calories.

The exception to that being when I am sick and I have apple juice. I actually really like apple juice but it is a thing only allowed when I am sick, and not a little sniffle sick, but full on sick.

When I left work Monday that is where I thought I was heading. So many people at my work are sick, suuuuper sick, and I left work with a sore throat, congestion, and a general feeling of ugh. So I stocked up on kleenex with lotion in them, throat lozenges, DayQuil, and some apple juice. I ended up not getting a sick as anticipated, which is a good thing, just some congestion, tiredness, and minor body aches. Thing is, this means no apple juice.

The glass of juice I poured earlier in the day was from when I had just got home, made some tea, poured a glass of juice, and sat and relaxed with a book. I thought when I sat my body would realize it wasn’t being forced to do anything anymore and would sink in to sickness.

It didn’t.

Which again, is a good thing, but now I have this juice and I can’t drink it.

Or can I?

If this had happened in the past and I decided to drink it the trade off would have been one of two things:

(1) drink the juice and go to the gym

(2) drink the juice and don’t eat anything else the rest of the night

There is no other option, if I drink calories then something has to be done to mitigate the damage.

This time I decided to try something new. Why not drink the juice and not go to the gym aaaaand eat something?

Could I do that? Is that allowed? Is this a thing that can be done?

I’m sure other people drink glasses of juice and still eat dinner and don’t go rushing off to the gym..right?

So…maybe I could also.

It took some coaxing, some lifting of the glass but not quite making it to my mouth, then trying again, before it happened, but eventually, I drank the juice.

Then I went to the bathroom and worked really hard at not throwing it up.

Then, after not throwing it up, or running off to the gym, I made myself something to eat, something that had all the food groups. Practically a miracle.

And now I am sitting here, trying not to focus on the food in my stomach, the laxatives and various other supplements in my cupboard, or my packed and always ready to go gym bag.

Fuck.

Why is this so hard? Should this be so hard? I don’t think this should be so hard. But I find it incredibly hard. I’m such a wimp, finding something like this hard. What kind of challenge is this, really, in the grand scheme of things? This is a thing normal people do every-fucking-day. If they can do it then so can I…right?

Survival

I don’t drink alcohol. I used to. Not in an alcoholic type of way, but it was getting to be a bit too much too often so I stopped.

After I hadn’t had a drink for a long time (a couple years) I was with some friends and we drank, and I drank a lot. I mean…A. Lot! I thought it was a one time deal, we were partying after all, and I was still able to hold my own in the drinking department, so no biggy, right?

Well, wrong. It opened a can of worms and I found myself drinking a bit more often. So I stopped. Again.

Then 2016 came and was a year of hell. I was having a shitty time at my team practices, my self esteem plummeted, I was binge eating all the time, most every part of my life was in shambles. I started to want to drink. So I did. After practice I would stop at a liquor store and buy so much alcohol the person would make a comment about how I must be going to a party. I just played along and let them think that, but in reality it was all for me. I had some guidelines, don’t go to work or practice drunk, don’t drink and drive, don’t text when drinking. Not exactly the strictest of rules. *rolls eyes*

Somewhere along the way I realized all this drinking wasn’t helping. The calories I was ingesting from drinking were insane. I was feeling like crap whenever I wasn’t drinking. When I drank I would eat more, so even more calories going in me.

I didn’t like that I was reliant on drinking to get through a day. So I stopped. Again.

I realized I couldn’t socially drink, I’m not good at stopping after one drink. It’s not that I don’t know where the line is for when I should stop. It is just that I don’t stop. Drinking became an all-or-nothing type of thing for me, so I put it in the “no more” category and figured that was that.

Only, by stopping drinking I took away a coping mechanism, and something had to fill that void. That something became my eating disorder. I started engaging in my eating disorder symptoms way more. Like, waaaaaay more.

So here I am, in treatment for my eating disorder, oh so slowly taking away using my ED as a coping mechanism and what happens? Christmas happens.

Christmas, the time when all the things that could possibly happen, happen. Christmas, when having coping mechanisms in place is a vital thing for survival.

My survival this Christmas didn’t come at the hands of healthy coping mechanisms. It came from drinking.

sigh.

I drank. A lot. For days.

I spent three days at a constant buzzed level, not so drunk it was obnoxious to others, or even super noticeable. Just drunk enough that I was fun to be around, at ease, funny, and able to eat in front of others without stress.

At the time it seemed brilliant. I was able to be the way everyone wanted me to be and I wasn’t engaging in my eating disorder behaviours. Sure I spent a solid 20 minutes staring at laxatives and weight loss supplements one night, wondering if I should buy some because I stupidly thought I would be ok and didn’t bring my own, but I didn’t buy them. I at least managed that. But it was like, not buying them, telling myself I was not going to use my ED to get me through the upcoming days, broke a dam in my brain and out gushed the idea of drinking to get me through. After all, I had to survive somehow, right?

I’m trying to decide if drinking to survive was a bad thing. I’m really not sure. I mean, lots of people drink, what’s the big deal? And it got me through some hard days, so that’s good, right? It’s just, I’m pretty sure if I tell my counsellor what I did this will end up in the category of “not a good thing” and it’ll become an issue. Where as, if I don’t tell them, I can keep drinking in my arsenal of ways to survive tough shit.

side view 2

War

I feel like I am at war with myself and I don’t know which side I want to win.

Lots of people talk about the whole eating disorder voice, how you have this voice in your head that tells you what you can and can’t eat or how much to exercise, or whatever – it is different for everyone.

But…I don’t really get that, I’ve never connected with that whole “voice in my head” thing. The choices I want to make, the rules I have about food and exercise, the way I look at food, it doesn’t sound in my head like a different voice trying to take over, it sounds like my voice, my thoughts, my choices, it is just me. Plain ‘ol me. Not some internal demon trying to take over.

I am the one making the decision to eat, or not eat, and if I do eat deciding what I will eat. I am the one in control. I don’t feel at the mercy of some voice in my head.

Sometimes this makes me wonder if I don’t really have an eating disorder, because I don’t identify with this idea of having a voice that sounds different than mine in my head.

This uncertainty, combined with my natural defensiveness and instinctive rebellion against authority is making this whole recovery deal a bit hard to grasp, or believe in.

Hence the war.

The dietitian I am seeing wants me to eat certain amounts of certain food groups daily, spaced out on a loosely timed schedule.

I don’t like it.

But do I not like it because I don’t agree with the plan on a nutritional level, or because I don’t like being told when and what to eat, or because I am feeling judged for how I do eat and feel like being given this framework to follow is a set-up for showing how flawed my choices are? They are all viable options for answers.

Every time I try to follow the plan the dietitian made I fail. Actually, not true, I managed it for two days, and I became permanently bloated, my abdominal area was distended, my stomach hurt all the time, I was miserable, so I stopped. I had to stop, what she wanted obviously wasn’t working. There is a flaw in her plan and no point in continuing with it when it is doing me damage.

That is my rational reasoning behind not doing what she wants.

I feel she won’t agree with that reasoning though…

This is getting off topic, mostly because I don’t really know how to put in to words what I am feeling, sigh.

I feel…

hmm…

I feel like I am at war, with myself, with my dietitian, with my case worker, with the world. I feel like I know what I want to look like and all I really want is help getting there but instead I have people trying to sabotage me and take me in the other direction.

I am getting fatter every day. I’m scared to step on the scale but I can see the fat in the mirror. I am losing some of my bones. I am getting rounder. I am contemplating joining a gym again even though I can’t afford it because winter is here and I won’t be able to run outside soon. I am terrified all the time, terrified to get dressed because any day now my clothes won’t fit. Terrified to look in the mirror because I am so fat and disgusting. Terrified people are going to start commenting on how big I am getting. Terrified my recovery team will somehow force me in to eating more – I’m not sure how they could, I’m out patient, and an adult, so they can’t force admit me, but the fear is there. I am terrified to be left alone near food because I feel I’m losing control and will just eat everything visible if given the opportunity. I am terrified that I’m losing my willpower. I’m terrified that I’m going to hurt myself again even though I said I didn’t do that anymore and I always keep my word. I’m terrified I’m going to get so desperate I’m going to pull out my laxatives and diet pills again, even though I said I’d stopped using them, because desperate times call for desperate measures. I’m terrified for the chest pains that come with the using of the pills, I’m more terrified that every day I am more and more ok with the chest pains coming back if it means the pills are working.

I am terrified.

And I hate it.

This battle is internal, and I don’t feel it is against some weird outsider voice that is in my head, it is against my own voice. The battle is me against me, the weak me and the strong me. The me that wants to be skinny badly enough she’ll do anything to get there, and the me that forgets the end goal and caves when she sees a pastry.

Why is how I think about food so wrong? Why am I supposed to look at it as fuel, or enjoyable, or as something that makes me healthy and strong? Why can’t the way I see food be ok?

If the things I think about food are my own thoughts, not some random voice’s thoughts, how do I know which is the right or wrong choice to make? When I think “I ate twice today, that is plenty, no more food for me” it seems like a perfectly rational decision. A decision that is my own. Not an invasive thought from my eating disorder. Just like when trying to follow the nutrition plan the dietitian gave me I struggle with doing what she wants because my thinking doesn’t align with hers and why is my thinking wrong and hers right?

I know I am not making sense, I told you I don’t know how to put what I am feeling in to words *rolls eyes*

Maybe I’ll figure out a better way to describe what I am feeling another day, shrug.

For now I guess I’ll just stay confused and at war.

Meal Plan

I was given a meal plan to follow, starting August 23rd.

So far I have sucked balls at following it.

I have an appointment with the nutritionist this coming Wednesday and I am dreading having to tell her I failed.

I have all these legit reasons for why it hasn’t happened yet, why I’m not following this meal plan, but I think she won’t see them as reasons, only excuses.

I couldn’t start following the meal plan the same day I got it because I didn’t have the food in my place to be able to follow it. Then I went out of town and my eating was all over the place because of being away. When I got back I had gained 1.5 pounds and I had to lose that before I could start some meal plan that had me eating more on a daily basis then I usually do. I can’t start off a meal plan when I am up on the scale, how will I ever lose that weight I gained from the weekend?

Hey now, don’t go judging my logic, it makes sense to me!

Then I was finally down on the scale but still didn’t have the right food in my place. Add to that the whole high potassium thing I’m going through. I can’t just eat what I want I have to be checking the potassium levels of everything and I gotta say, that is screwing with me.

I like spinach, spinach is high potassium, I am no longer supposed to have spinach, but I can’t just swap in some other type of lettuce where I would normally eat spinach, so now the choice is do I eat the spinach anyways and get some dark leafy greens or do I not eat any type of lettuce?

le sigh.

I’m having this issue with a bunch of foods.

So yeah, I have this meal plan, and I’m not following it.

Today was my first real attempt to follow it. I didn’t do great, but at least I sorta tried, that maybe counts for something…

I didn’t eat within 1.5 hours of getting up (that is rule number 1 from her), but I did eventually eat (which sounds stupid but isn’t). When I eventually ate something it was an actual meal, with food groups!

I had a two egg omelette with 1 tablespoon of shredded cheese inside. I topped it with 1 tablespoon of salsa (which I am trying to figure out if that counts as a veg serving…), I also had toast (that is an easy one for me), and a yoghurt (NOT an easy one for me). I was also supposed to have a fruit and a meat, but maybe the egg counts as a meat? I’m not clear on the rules…wait! I just checked, the eggs do count as meat so score for me!

I couldn’t fit a fruit it with that meal, it was too much food already, but I ate a nectarine about 3 hours later.

Then I went to work out for a couple hours.

Then the big dilemma.

When I got home from working out I didn’t want to eat. I wasn’t feeling hungry, I was feeling like any food I ingested would be taking away all the gains I got from my work out, I didn’t want my work out to be wasted because I ate after, ya know?

So I literally paced my kitchen, back and forth, back and forth, do I eat, don’t I eat, should I eat, should I not eat, I’m not hungry, I have been told my hunger signals suck and I need to eat on schedule, I already missed the scheduled time to eat so no point in eating now, eating now is better then not eating at all, I’ve eaten too much today, you haven’t eaten as much as you promised you would when you were given the meal plan, food will make me gain weight, you need to fuel your body, I don’t want to eat, it doesn’t matter what you want, I am in charge of what my body gets, you have to give your body what it needs, I don’t need more food today, yes you do, I’m not hungry, you’ll feel hungry soon and you might binge then, I could just go to bed early, you’ll sleep better if you eat something first…and so on…

Eventually I settled on something, and ended up with a meal that had, get this…food groups! And not just one!

I had a small tortilla wrap with some coleslaw (no dressing), home made turkey salad mix, and a small amount of shredded cheddar cheese.

That is grain, meat, veg, and dairy, all in one!

I ate it. I still wasn’t feeling hungry when I ate it and eating when I don’t feel hungry goes against everything I believe in doing but I said I’d try to follow the meal plan and so far I haven’t and eating this meal put me closer to following then not eating would have done.

Honestly, I still wish I hadn’t eaten anything. I’d be feeling better about myself and not paranoid that as I sit here typing that food is turning to fat and making me bigger.

But at least this way I can go to my meeting next week and say I sort of, kinda, in a way, tried to follow the plan.