SF vanilla soy latte -- 140 cal
Americano -- 45 cal
Veg stir fry with garlic and hoisin plum sauce -- 230 cal
Salad (Quorn chicken pieces, 3 stalks celery, lite mayo) -- 260 cal
Pizza (2/3 slice) + creamy dip -- ~200 cal
Feel completely disinterested in food. Today experienced a massive dip in energy. Makes sense. I've been living off <1000 calories a day, taking Ritalin every afternoon and smoking a butt-ton to make up for the lack of food. 875 calories today and I'm stuffed. I bought a 400-calorie sandwich earlier. If I were being smart I'd eat it, but I don't want it. Maybe I'll eat half, although then I'd have to throw the other half away and I hate wasting food. Ugh.
It's weird how I have absolutely no desire to binge. 3 more pounds and I'm in the 150s. Part of me wants to stop but then I think, why now? Why not keep pushing? Technically 9 more pounds and I'm there, why not just go a little further?
Thursday, 26 March 2015
Wednesday, 25 March 2015
162.2 pounds this afternoon, my dehydrated weight post-bath. It's working. The knowledge that I could break into the 150s by the end of the week is invigorating.
Intake:
- Salad with romaine, onions, 1 cal garlic spray, egg whites, tabasco (120)
- Caramel macchiato, soy (240)
- Battered sausage with ketchup (480)
- Diet Pepsi (1)
- 841 calories
If I eat anything else tonight it will be a banana with 1 tbsp peanut butter (210) or a small glass of red wine (100) but I'm feeling so full after dinner. We got fish and chips but I didn't eat any of the chips which was a first. I felt so incredibly stuffed just having the sausage in batter. It was a ridiculous amount of calories for just one sausage at any rate. I got the calories off the internet so a little worried about the accuracy of my calculations, but it's not like it was a huge volume of food or anything. I would have felt safer with veg but equally when I got home from coffee it was already 8.30, my mum had just come home from work, and there wasn't time to cook my own dinner. Plus I took some ritalin while I was out, which had the traditional effect of suppressing my appetite, so even though I was planning on eating more than just the sausage I was extremely full once I had finished it. Weird. Maybe my appetite is going down in general. I certainly don't feel the same level of hunger now as I did two weeks ago.
I guess I've lost 10 pounds since March 1st. I don't think it shows. It's probably all water weight anyway. It's odd to think that in three weeks I could fit back into all those clothes I got too big for. My jeans, for one.
It's only 9 pounds until I get back to the weight I was a year ago. I don't think I will be satisfied at 153, but it's a damn good start. My plan is probably to continue restricting below 1200 calories until I hit 150, then channel my energies into clean eating and exercise. The steadier the last 10-15 pounds come off, the longer they'll stay off. At least that's how it's supposed to go. I would love to be 140, athletic, healthy, glowing with self-confidence and able to fit size 10s again. That sounds much more appealing than whittling myself down to some ungodly number and turning into a rake.
Intake:
- Salad with romaine, onions, 1 cal garlic spray, egg whites, tabasco (120)
- Caramel macchiato, soy (240)
- Battered sausage with ketchup (480)
- Diet Pepsi (1)
- 841 calories
If I eat anything else tonight it will be a banana with 1 tbsp peanut butter (210) or a small glass of red wine (100) but I'm feeling so full after dinner. We got fish and chips but I didn't eat any of the chips which was a first. I felt so incredibly stuffed just having the sausage in batter. It was a ridiculous amount of calories for just one sausage at any rate. I got the calories off the internet so a little worried about the accuracy of my calculations, but it's not like it was a huge volume of food or anything. I would have felt safer with veg but equally when I got home from coffee it was already 8.30, my mum had just come home from work, and there wasn't time to cook my own dinner. Plus I took some ritalin while I was out, which had the traditional effect of suppressing my appetite, so even though I was planning on eating more than just the sausage I was extremely full once I had finished it. Weird. Maybe my appetite is going down in general. I certainly don't feel the same level of hunger now as I did two weeks ago.
I guess I've lost 10 pounds since March 1st. I don't think it shows. It's probably all water weight anyway. It's odd to think that in three weeks I could fit back into all those clothes I got too big for. My jeans, for one.
It's only 9 pounds until I get back to the weight I was a year ago. I don't think I will be satisfied at 153, but it's a damn good start. My plan is probably to continue restricting below 1200 calories until I hit 150, then channel my energies into clean eating and exercise. The steadier the last 10-15 pounds come off, the longer they'll stay off. At least that's how it's supposed to go. I would love to be 140, athletic, healthy, glowing with self-confidence and able to fit size 10s again. That sounds much more appealing than whittling myself down to some ungodly number and turning into a rake.
Tuesday, 24 March 2015
163.2 @ noon when I woke up. Today has been successful so far with the exception of an unplanned cheese & ham toastie I bought when I went to meet my sister for coffee. Breakfast was a smoothie (frozen raspberries, red pepper, tangerine, cayenne and grape juice), a piece of wholemeal toast and 1 banana microwaved with cinnamon, vanilla extract and a small amount of butter. Then I had the toastie with my sister (305 calories), a cappuccino, another coffee (black) with C at Starbucks and just made myself a Caesar salad with quorn chicken, romaine and celery for dinner. It's 9pm so if I have anything else it'll be veg because that's literally all I stocked my fridge with today. Cabbage, leeks, stir fry, celery and lettuce. Either way I'm only at a total of 970 for the day, so technically I still have ~200 calories 'wiggle room'. It may however be spent on wine as I find it helps me sleep.
It's alarming to me just how quickly I seem to be able to fall right back into restricting whenever I'm at home. I don't know what it is about being here that seems to facilitate that mentality. Part of it is not being able to eat whatever and whenever I please. My health-consciousness in London seems to increase ten fold. I never get take-out with the exception of sushi literally once in a blue moon. The fridge is always stocked with low-calorie or healthy foods, and whenever we have a cooked dinner it's always protein and veg and maybe some organic pasta. Then there's the not being able to eat at night. That's a big one. By 11pm everyone's usually in bed and the house is dark. I live on the mezzanine floor (essentially the attic) and don't have a door, so a sneaky midnight trip to the kitchen is out of the question. I eat less meat. I walk more; I also sleep more, and wake up earlier. All of these factors mean that some kind of weight loss is always inevitable here whether I'm thinking about it consciously or not.
The question is when (or where) to stop. Technically, it's only 10 pounds until I hit the number I was maintaining last January, when I met L and had just gained some rebound weight off the back of illness. Ostensibly I was 'slim', not underweight nor overweight but perfectly healthy and with pretty much nothing to worry about. Having gained to 172 this year, however, 153 seems like a dream. The worry is I get there and still feel fat. I certainly felt fat at 153 last January, but that's because I was comparing myself to my post-flu low-weight of 137 pounds. To be perfectly honest, I think 137 is about as far as I can push my body when it comes to weight loss. Not that a lower weight wouldn't look nicer, but for the sheer fact that when I weighed 137 my bones started jutting out. Being almost 5'10" has its perks.
Update: Had the rest of the Quorn chicken with some lite salad cream and a glass of wine. So total calories today = 1170. Watching House and sipping a diet ginger beer. Slowly weaning myself off Coke and so far it's been doing wonders for my water consumption.
It's alarming to me just how quickly I seem to be able to fall right back into restricting whenever I'm at home. I don't know what it is about being here that seems to facilitate that mentality. Part of it is not being able to eat whatever and whenever I please. My health-consciousness in London seems to increase ten fold. I never get take-out with the exception of sushi literally once in a blue moon. The fridge is always stocked with low-calorie or healthy foods, and whenever we have a cooked dinner it's always protein and veg and maybe some organic pasta. Then there's the not being able to eat at night. That's a big one. By 11pm everyone's usually in bed and the house is dark. I live on the mezzanine floor (essentially the attic) and don't have a door, so a sneaky midnight trip to the kitchen is out of the question. I eat less meat. I walk more; I also sleep more, and wake up earlier. All of these factors mean that some kind of weight loss is always inevitable here whether I'm thinking about it consciously or not.
The question is when (or where) to stop. Technically, it's only 10 pounds until I hit the number I was maintaining last January, when I met L and had just gained some rebound weight off the back of illness. Ostensibly I was 'slim', not underweight nor overweight but perfectly healthy and with pretty much nothing to worry about. Having gained to 172 this year, however, 153 seems like a dream. The worry is I get there and still feel fat. I certainly felt fat at 153 last January, but that's because I was comparing myself to my post-flu low-weight of 137 pounds. To be perfectly honest, I think 137 is about as far as I can push my body when it comes to weight loss. Not that a lower weight wouldn't look nicer, but for the sheer fact that when I weighed 137 my bones started jutting out. Being almost 5'10" has its perks.
Update: Had the rest of the Quorn chicken with some lite salad cream and a glass of wine. So total calories today = 1170. Watching House and sipping a diet ginger beer. Slowly weaning myself off Coke and so far it's been doing wonders for my water consumption.
Monday, 23 March 2015
164.0 this morning so on the right track. Ate minimally:
-Wholemeal toast with hoummous and tomatoes (200)
-Caramel macchiato with soy (240)
-Diet Coke, 1 can (0)
-Bag of chips (175)
-Rocket salad (180)
-Iced coffee (120)
Total: 915
Lowest intake in a while. Trying to get my sleep sorted. My general sleeping schedule at home tends to be a solid block (waking up maybe once, when my sister leaves for school) averaging 3am-3pm. I'd like to adjust to a schedule of 1-9. In an ideal world that would allow me the restorative sleep I need to recuperate from the bad effects of last term, dull my anxiety, and alleviate at least part of the late-night mania I experience after waking up late. Plus it would mean more alone-time, which is hard to fit into evenings spent with my family.
-Wholemeal toast with hoummous and tomatoes (200)
-Caramel macchiato with soy (240)
-Diet Coke, 1 can (0)
-Bag of chips (175)
-Rocket salad (180)
-Iced coffee (120)
Total: 915
Lowest intake in a while. Trying to get my sleep sorted. My general sleeping schedule at home tends to be a solid block (waking up maybe once, when my sister leaves for school) averaging 3am-3pm. I'd like to adjust to a schedule of 1-9. In an ideal world that would allow me the restorative sleep I need to recuperate from the bad effects of last term, dull my anxiety, and alleviate at least part of the late-night mania I experience after waking up late. Plus it would mean more alone-time, which is hard to fit into evenings spent with my family.
Sunday, 22 March 2015
I'm finally home. Thank God. The end of term was absolute hell. Because of my appalling attendance, I've been encouraged to take a leave of absence and study abroad is now off the table. So I've been devastated, depressed, in a black hole. But now I'm home and I feel like fuck it, I should just be focusing on myself to counter this. I was not who I wanted to be this term. I was overweight, and lethargic, and miserable. I will not return to university the same person in April. I need to change, evolve past this useless era of my life.
165.4 this morning, so 2 pounds lost since I got home. My goal is to be in the 140s or at the very least, low 150s by the time the holidays are up. I don't know what my plan is yet, but it's probably going to be a 1200 calories, no eating after midnight kind of thing.
Food today:
-Caramel macchiato with soy (240)
-Toast with peanut butter + banana (300)
-Roast gammon with asparagus, salad, dressing (350)
-Grape and raspberry juice (110)
Which comes to exactly 1000 calories. Granted I don't eat anything further (and I doubt that I will seeing as it's half past 9) I should technically see 164 tomorrow. There will be some progress after today I'm sure.
Feeling inspired but unable to tap into any thought or idea with the focus it takes to begin a new project. Considering waking up early tomorrow and going to the library or Starbucks to write. I need a fresh start and a new creative schedule, one that works.
165.4 this morning, so 2 pounds lost since I got home. My goal is to be in the 140s or at the very least, low 150s by the time the holidays are up. I don't know what my plan is yet, but it's probably going to be a 1200 calories, no eating after midnight kind of thing.
Food today:
-Caramel macchiato with soy (240)
-Toast with peanut butter + banana (300)
-Roast gammon with asparagus, salad, dressing (350)
-Grape and raspberry juice (110)
Which comes to exactly 1000 calories. Granted I don't eat anything further (and I doubt that I will seeing as it's half past 9) I should technically see 164 tomorrow. There will be some progress after today I'm sure.
Feeling inspired but unable to tap into any thought or idea with the focus it takes to begin a new project. Considering waking up early tomorrow and going to the library or Starbucks to write. I need a fresh start and a new creative schedule, one that works.
Tuesday, 10 March 2015
The day started off with this. No complaints. I need the brain fuel to power through this 3000-word paper due in for Friday. My sleeping pattern has been much more erratic since essay time started a week ago; 8am became the regular bedtime, and rising at 6pm the norm. I've hated it, as lack of sun makes me incredibly depressed, but anyway. Might have fixed it today. Ended up passing out at 2pm after an all nighter (first essay got done and handed in), and then woke up incredibly disoriented at 2.30am this morning. Spent about two hours in bed watching House then finally got up at 4.30 and decided to work (it's 8am now and I have around 1,750 words of notes which is a definitive start). 6am breakfast pictured above. Morning snack will be more fruit and plenty of water, lunch will probably be sushi even though I can't afford it and for dinner I'm either going to make vegetarian bolognese (with quorn mince) or some other concoction involving the ingredients in my fridge right now. I really love the feeling of sitting at my desk reading articles, eating breakfast and drinking coffee as the sun comes up. It's very gratifying and makes you feel like part of the human race - the part that wakes up before 7am and actually gets shit done in the mornings. It's just peaceful to have that solitude before all the other students wake up. The ideal schedule would definitely involve waking up hours before everyone else, although it means getting to bed earlier. That's the one downside as I love to stay up late and sacrificing that is something I've always found always difficult.
Trying to turn my obsession with food into an obsession with healthy eating will probably be a successful way to navigate the next few weeks. I'm getting preoccupied with the arrangement of my food and how it looks aesthetically before I eat it. In general I love to cook and make food look beautiful so channelling my obsessions into this will prevent me from making bad choices. I hope.
Weighed 165.8 when I stepped on the scales at 3am. It's my absolute intention to be in the 150s by the end of next week. I'm looking forward to being able to relax, read and socialise when I get back. I isolate myself at university to the point of it being voluntary loneliness, except I never feel alone. I just feel disappointed in the other people who seem to be around, for not being interesting enough. Eventually I'm going to pickle in my own snobbery, but for now with all the work it's actually doing me some favours. I really do want to become more obsessive about my work. I'd like the title 'workaholic' to apply to me and I don't care if it makes me antisocial. Work is more fulfilling than meaningless conversation at any rate.
Wednesday, 4 March 2015
Update: so I finished up the fast at 73 hours and broke it with a bite of a potato rosti and a bite of broccoli. Then I foolishly decided to eat 3 packets of sweets and drink a pear cidre, which in retrospect I feel very bad about. It's now about 5am, I'm getting into bed in ten minutes. I feel very lost as to what to do, whether to carry on while I'm still in the swing of things, or go back to restricting for a bit. Or maybe intermittent fasting. It all depends on my weight. Depending on whether I'm up or down when I wake up I'll make a decision.
68 hours into the fast. This afternoon I weighed 167.0 pounds, which wasn't as bad a gain as I had expected, but still a gain. Today I've had 1/2 a cup of Green Machine (70), a soy cappuccino from Starbucks (120) and a cup of mulligatawny soup (200), in total 390 calories. The problem yesterday was that I went over 1000 calories in liquids without realising or keeping track, which is a remarkably easy mistake to make when your brain is tricked into thinking that soup isn't "real" food. Anyway, I'm glad I stuck with the fast and pushed through despite. There's only 4 more hours until the fast technically ends, but I'm thinking that if I weigh under 165 tomorrow, I'll keep going. It's not as if I have any social commitments coming up that would require eating; the only issue is my own discipline and willpower. But I've read that day 3 is somewhat of a hump in terms of breaking through the hunger wall, so part of me thinks it would be a shame to end it before I get through to the other side. We'll see. Either way, I'm not planning on exceeding 700 calories today, so hopefully I'll see 165 tomorrow, fingers crossed. Then it's only 5 pounds to go before I hit my low weight of the academic year (I got down to 160 some time in the holidays, before I went to New York and binged back the lost weight).
In other news, I saw a therapist today and agreed to ten sessions with him. So that felt fairly beneficial. I ended up crying about my father, as usual. Clearly I have a lot of issues still to work out. But today felt like progress somehow, which was good. I have two more weeks of essays and then I'm home. I am dying to go home and see my friends. I've felt so very isolated this term - this whole year in fact - and being at home, while it can be occasionally stressful, is probably what I need the most right now. I just need to be reminded that there are people who understand and care, I need to be around my family and remind myself that all is not lost.
If I could be somewhere in the 150s by the time I go home, that would be great. I have about eleven days to lose a minimum of eight pounds, in that case. It's a bit extreme but if I continue to lose at a rate of roughly two pounds per day, I could be in the low 160s by the end of the weekend. The grunt work is the difficult bit, but once I stabilise at 160 I'm hoping it will be fairly easy to break through to the 150s in a matter of days. Then I will be working on exercising and refining my diet to be as healthy and simple as possible. The broader goal is to come back in the summer term weighing somewhere around 145, although I don't know how easy it will be to lose that quickly at home. If I could get back to 153 (my weight last January) I would be extremely happy, anything else is a bonus really.
In other news, I saw a therapist today and agreed to ten sessions with him. So that felt fairly beneficial. I ended up crying about my father, as usual. Clearly I have a lot of issues still to work out. But today felt like progress somehow, which was good. I have two more weeks of essays and then I'm home. I am dying to go home and see my friends. I've felt so very isolated this term - this whole year in fact - and being at home, while it can be occasionally stressful, is probably what I need the most right now. I just need to be reminded that there are people who understand and care, I need to be around my family and remind myself that all is not lost.
If I could be somewhere in the 150s by the time I go home, that would be great. I have about eleven days to lose a minimum of eight pounds, in that case. It's a bit extreme but if I continue to lose at a rate of roughly two pounds per day, I could be in the low 160s by the end of the weekend. The grunt work is the difficult bit, but once I stabilise at 160 I'm hoping it will be fairly easy to break through to the 150s in a matter of days. Then I will be working on exercising and refining my diet to be as healthy and simple as possible. The broader goal is to come back in the summer term weighing somewhere around 145, although I don't know how easy it will be to lose that quickly at home. If I could get back to 153 (my weight last January) I would be extremely happy, anything else is a bonus really.
Tuesday, 3 March 2015
I'm now on my 50th hour liquid fasting. At 38 hours in, I weighed 166.8 lbs. It's now the end of Day 2 and I have had: beetroot and raspberry V8, a soy espresso frappuccino from Starbucks, black coffee, diet soda, mojito (non-alcoholic), Thai tom kha coconut soup, chicken broth, homemade pea soup and about half of a small tub of bean soup (which I stopped eating because it had too much "solid food" at the bottom). I'm extremely bloated and hoping that the fact I feel heavy with water weight is just the sheer amount of liquid I consumed today. Soup especially is sodium-heavy so I've been drinking as much water as possible.
I screwed up a bit today because I felt so incredibly weak in town that I impulse-bought a fuck ton of healthy, expensive soups intending to split them up over the next few days but had what I can only describe as a soup binge whilst watching films in L's room. I hate that I now feel bad for consuming "too much soup". It seems ridiculous to me, that before I was bingeing on real food and not feeling bad about it, and now I'm feeling guilty over soup. I'm just so desperate for it not to go wrong this time. I'm pleading with my body: don't gain, don't gain, don't gain.
My assumption is that I'll just pee it all out (excuse the imagery) over the next 12 hours. Or so I hope. The appeal with a true water fast is that you get to see the numbers go down every couple of hours, every time you pee or happen to be near a scale. Just like obsessive time-checking on a fast measured by hours, I can see how one could get equally obsessive checking their weight frequently whilst water fasting.
Part of me is questioning the whole thing, and if it'll work - and if it doesn't, will I throw in the towel and go back to regular eating? I feel like I want to say no to "real" food for as long as it takes before I get my weight down and get back to myself, but when will that be? Days? Weeks? I don't know how long I could keep this shit up, or if it's even worth it. 72 hours doesn't seem like enough, either way.
I've just got to remember why I'm doing this. It's not just for going home and making an impression. It's to get the control back in my life. It's for the parties, the appearances, the glorious moments of feeling beautiful and powerful somehow, the moments where you know someone's taking notice. It's for being able to wear anything and look amazing, it's for the role in the film, it's for next year abroad at a private American university where appearance will be extremely important (much more so than here). It's for being able to celebrate and not feel guilty about it. I'm sick of feeling guilty.
I screwed up a bit today because I felt so incredibly weak in town that I impulse-bought a fuck ton of healthy, expensive soups intending to split them up over the next few days but had what I can only describe as a soup binge whilst watching films in L's room. I hate that I now feel bad for consuming "too much soup". It seems ridiculous to me, that before I was bingeing on real food and not feeling bad about it, and now I'm feeling guilty over soup. I'm just so desperate for it not to go wrong this time. I'm pleading with my body: don't gain, don't gain, don't gain.
My assumption is that I'll just pee it all out (excuse the imagery) over the next 12 hours. Or so I hope. The appeal with a true water fast is that you get to see the numbers go down every couple of hours, every time you pee or happen to be near a scale. Just like obsessive time-checking on a fast measured by hours, I can see how one could get equally obsessive checking their weight frequently whilst water fasting.
Part of me is questioning the whole thing, and if it'll work - and if it doesn't, will I throw in the towel and go back to regular eating? I feel like I want to say no to "real" food for as long as it takes before I get my weight down and get back to myself, but when will that be? Days? Weeks? I don't know how long I could keep this shit up, or if it's even worth it. 72 hours doesn't seem like enough, either way.
I've just got to remember why I'm doing this. It's not just for going home and making an impression. It's to get the control back in my life. It's for the parties, the appearances, the glorious moments of feeling beautiful and powerful somehow, the moments where you know someone's taking notice. It's for being able to wear anything and look amazing, it's for the role in the film, it's for next year abroad at a private American university where appearance will be extremely important (much more so than here). It's for being able to celebrate and not feel guilty about it. I'm sick of feeling guilty.
Monday, 2 March 2015
25 hours in, and I've consumed two coffees (with milk), a lemonade, chicken and vegetable broth, edamame soup and a can of Coke. I guess this has turned into a general liquids-only fast. Tomorrow I'm gonna cut the milk in my coffee, and avoid full-sugar fizzy drinks as a base rule. I bought some beetroot & raspberry V8, which I'm thinking of splitting up throughout the day. Hopefully, given sufficient black coffee consumption and 'mother's little helper' I should be able to make it through the day on only one soup this time.
Around dinner time I almost cracked. I was hungry and craving a PB&J. Luckily I didn't. I'm telling myself I can have that PB&J, just not now. This is how it works. You put it off, hour by hour until you've done a week's stint and barely even noticed. Or so you hope.
I... don't know how this is going to affect me. I don't even know if I'll lose weight, that is if I last long enough to see a marked difference. I've read stories of girls online losing 6, 8, 10 pounds in the first three days. I don't think that will happen to me. I'm already technically 1/3 of the way through my projected 72 hours of liquids-only and I don't feel like I'll have lost even a pound today. It's hard to get an accurate reading right now because I'm full of water, and part of me doesn't want to step on the scales in case I see the dreaded 170 flash up at me again.
I want to buy jeans again, and fit into the size I've always worn (10-12 UK). Being 5'9, I would have to get considerately more emaciated to fit into a smaller size than that, so a goal of size 8 feels pretty unrealistic at this point. But maybe I'd fit into 12s after fasting. I don't know. I want my old figure back. I also miss seeing the line of my cheekbones when I look in the mirror. My face seems bloated and puffy to me now, and extraordinarily round. Part of it's reality, part of it's distortion. Also, I have developed pudge on my stomach where there never used to be pudge, even at higher weights like 150 and 160. That, and the weight on my face will probably be the first to go, I am assuming (and hoping).
A major motivation is being able to wear the clothes I idolise on others. A smart black uniform of a t-shirt tucked into cigarette jeans, belted at the waist. Military boots, a long coat. or leather jacket. I long to look fashionable, and more infuriatingly own enough clothes to dress in the way that I wish, but I don't fit most of them, and the ones that I do fit seem to look wrong on my slightly-larger-than-usual frame. I look at skinny girls and think that they waste their potential. If I were a size 8 I'd wear whatever I damn well pleased. I'd walk down the street and feel unstoppable.
Looking (and being) scholarly is a good model for success. The more brainy you look, the more brainy you sound and the harder you'll work (or so is scientifically proven). The true exhibition of discipline. Books under arm, cigarette in mouth, rushing frantically to make a lecture. Reading up on literary theory, writing maniacally any chance you get. This is the model I've idealised for myself for the past year and I am so very desperate to emulate it successfully. I seem to embody some elements but not others, and on a case-by-case basis rather than regularly, routinely. Routine and ritual becomes oh so important when you're trying to shift an accumulated thirty pounds of weight.
Around dinner time I almost cracked. I was hungry and craving a PB&J. Luckily I didn't. I'm telling myself I can have that PB&J, just not now. This is how it works. You put it off, hour by hour until you've done a week's stint and barely even noticed. Or so you hope.
I... don't know how this is going to affect me. I don't even know if I'll lose weight, that is if I last long enough to see a marked difference. I've read stories of girls online losing 6, 8, 10 pounds in the first three days. I don't think that will happen to me. I'm already technically 1/3 of the way through my projected 72 hours of liquids-only and I don't feel like I'll have lost even a pound today. It's hard to get an accurate reading right now because I'm full of water, and part of me doesn't want to step on the scales in case I see the dreaded 170 flash up at me again.
I want to buy jeans again, and fit into the size I've always worn (10-12 UK). Being 5'9, I would have to get considerately more emaciated to fit into a smaller size than that, so a goal of size 8 feels pretty unrealistic at this point. But maybe I'd fit into 12s after fasting. I don't know. I want my old figure back. I also miss seeing the line of my cheekbones when I look in the mirror. My face seems bloated and puffy to me now, and extraordinarily round. Part of it's reality, part of it's distortion. Also, I have developed pudge on my stomach where there never used to be pudge, even at higher weights like 150 and 160. That, and the weight on my face will probably be the first to go, I am assuming (and hoping).
A major motivation is being able to wear the clothes I idolise on others. A smart black uniform of a t-shirt tucked into cigarette jeans, belted at the waist. Military boots, a long coat. or leather jacket. I long to look fashionable, and more infuriatingly own enough clothes to dress in the way that I wish, but I don't fit most of them, and the ones that I do fit seem to look wrong on my slightly-larger-than-usual frame. I look at skinny girls and think that they waste their potential. If I were a size 8 I'd wear whatever I damn well pleased. I'd walk down the street and feel unstoppable.
Looking (and being) scholarly is a good model for success. The more brainy you look, the more brainy you sound and the harder you'll work (or so is scientifically proven). The true exhibition of discipline. Books under arm, cigarette in mouth, rushing frantically to make a lecture. Reading up on literary theory, writing maniacally any chance you get. This is the model I've idealised for myself for the past year and I am so very desperate to emulate it successfully. I seem to embody some elements but not others, and on a case-by-case basis rather than regularly, routinely. Routine and ritual becomes oh so important when you're trying to shift an accumulated thirty pounds of weight.
I'm currently 16 hours into a (semi-liquids, mostly water) fast that I only officially decided on last night. Shooting for 72 hours, and the only substances I will be allowing myself to consume will be water, tea, coffee, vegetable broth, chicken broth, the master cleanse lemonade, diet coke and, if I get especially starving, 0 calorie pickles.
The last time I fasted properly and successfully, I was 17 (besides unintentional fasting during my hospitalisation, where I was too sick to eat.) I went for four days on 0 calorie liquids (including carbonated diet drinks) and lost four pounds. However, I also started out weighing a lot less than I do now, plus my metabolism was shot to hell from starvation. So this time I'm expecting speedier weight loss, seeing as my weight at the start of the fast was 171.0 lbs. Currently it's 169.0 lbs. Ideally I would fast myself into the 150s, but that would mean committing to the fast for a minimum of 10 days. I'm not sure if I have the willpower to make it through 3, let alone 10, but I'm playing it by ear.
Obviously the appealing thing about a fast is the instant results. It's like zapping weight loss. The other appeal is not having to worry about food for a while. Thinking about food is one thing, worrying about it is another (what to eat, when to eat it, which diet to follow, etc). I hope that this will free me up some extra mental space as I have two essays to write over the next fortnight.
The last time I fasted properly and successfully, I was 17 (besides unintentional fasting during my hospitalisation, where I was too sick to eat.) I went for four days on 0 calorie liquids (including carbonated diet drinks) and lost four pounds. However, I also started out weighing a lot less than I do now, plus my metabolism was shot to hell from starvation. So this time I'm expecting speedier weight loss, seeing as my weight at the start of the fast was 171.0 lbs. Currently it's 169.0 lbs. Ideally I would fast myself into the 150s, but that would mean committing to the fast for a minimum of 10 days. I'm not sure if I have the willpower to make it through 3, let alone 10, but I'm playing it by ear.
Obviously the appealing thing about a fast is the instant results. It's like zapping weight loss. The other appeal is not having to worry about food for a while. Thinking about food is one thing, worrying about it is another (what to eat, when to eat it, which diet to follow, etc). I hope that this will free me up some extra mental space as I have two essays to write over the next fortnight.
Sunday, 1 March 2015
Sorry for the brief interlude of absence. My weight ballooned to 171.8 lbs; my sleep's been fucked. Last night was the first time in ages that I had a proper sleep. Bed by 4am and up by 1pm, so 9 solid hours of sleep. Still, I woke up dehydrated, grumpy, and weighing 170 on the scales.
170 is not good enough. 170 symbolises all the things that are wrong with my life. I'm going to stick to this sleep pattern until my weight gets low enough that I can afford to fuck with staying up late/not sleeping/pulling all nighters. After all, this is the major reason I lose weight at home. I stop eating by 1am latest, fall asleep by 4 or 5am, and wake up at midday. Usually all I have at home until dinner is a smoothie, and Starbucks with C or K (who sometimes I split a panini with). So my actual window of eating solid food is very short (about 7pm-midnight).
I had a dream last night that I got down to 135. OH to be 135 again.
I wonder how fast I can lose 35 pounds. The end of Easter?
170 is not good enough. 170 symbolises all the things that are wrong with my life. I'm going to stick to this sleep pattern until my weight gets low enough that I can afford to fuck with staying up late/not sleeping/pulling all nighters. After all, this is the major reason I lose weight at home. I stop eating by 1am latest, fall asleep by 4 or 5am, and wake up at midday. Usually all I have at home until dinner is a smoothie, and Starbucks with C or K (who sometimes I split a panini with). So my actual window of eating solid food is very short (about 7pm-midnight).
I had a dream last night that I got down to 135. OH to be 135 again.
I wonder how fast I can lose 35 pounds. The end of Easter?
Sunday, 22 February 2015
Watching my diet. 75.5 this morning, aiming for 74 in the next few days. Woke up at 5pm and felt terrible about it, but I compensated with delicious, vegan food. Applesauce with cinnamon and a tbsp peanut butter for breakfast; mango smoothie and soy iced coffee for "lunch" and 1/2 raw vegan pizza/1/2 raw vegan berry and banana pie for that I made for dinner with L. Ingredients for the pie crust: raw cashews, raw walnuts, maple syrup, raw dates, and vanilla extract. Pure, simple, delicious food. Good for the soul. My late-night snack whilst reading blogs and watching House: a romaine, celery and spring onion salad with dijon honey mustard dressing, and cidre with grenadine. I'm not worried about the quantities; nothing I ate was bad, besides, perhaps, the olive oil in the raw cauliflower pizza base. This is, dare I say it, progress.
I need to start gymming again. I know logically that it will speed things up, but I have such an urge to cancel my membership. I'm going to try to make myself go tomorrow either way.
I want to start taking photographs again. This time, I wish to be the muse. I want to start thinking of my body as a work of art again. My creation. Time to shed this excess baggage and live.
I need to start gymming again. I know logically that it will speed things up, but I have such an urge to cancel my membership. I'm going to try to make myself go tomorrow either way.
I want to start taking photographs again. This time, I wish to be the muse. I want to start thinking of my body as a work of art again. My creation. Time to shed this excess baggage and live.
Saturday, 21 February 2015
Going back to weighing in kilos. 75.6 this afternoon. 74.8 is my first goal, a tiny benchmark of success. After that, 73, and then I'm almost there.
Trying to focus on eating smaller amounts of higher quality foods will get me through this. I'm so accustomed to eating vast quantities of empty carbs with no nutritional value (pasta is one of them). I'm done with restricting, for now anyway. I just want to feel healthy, like I did before.
No burgers, no pizza, no takeout. Those are the rules. Beyond that, I'm going to try not to eat past midnight. It leads me into dangerous bingeing territory and pushes back my sleep time even further. I'm aiming to become somewhat of a health freak again. Celery with hoummous for a snack, avocado salads and soy in my coffee. I'm sick of being mediocre.
Trying to focus on eating smaller amounts of higher quality foods will get me through this. I'm so accustomed to eating vast quantities of empty carbs with no nutritional value (pasta is one of them). I'm done with restricting, for now anyway. I just want to feel healthy, like I did before.
No burgers, no pizza, no takeout. Those are the rules. Beyond that, I'm going to try not to eat past midnight. It leads me into dangerous bingeing territory and pushes back my sleep time even further. I'm aiming to become somewhat of a health freak again. Celery with hoummous for a snack, avocado salads and soy in my coffee. I'm sick of being mediocre.
Thursday, 19 February 2015
I went into hibernation mode and proposed a moratorium on restricting for a few days. My metabolism sped up and I dipped back down to a steady 165.
I've been reading about intuitive eating. It all seems... too good to be true, for want of a better phrase. I always fantasise about my future self, who eats only when she is hungry and doesn't stuff her face uncontrollably when things go to shit. And it's true that the majority of "naturally thin" people I know do eat when they're hungry and stop when they're full. But I don't know if I can do the same. I feel like my body has become way too comfortable up here. But before I hit 21 I never averaged over 148 lbs unless I was bingeing quite considerably, and so it's deeply unnatural for me to be here. At least I hope 160+ hasn't become my new adult norm. That would be depressing not to mention fucking terrifying.
My target of 150 still hasn't left my head. And Easter isn't getting any further away.
I went to the gym today for an hour, although it was an incredibly unproductive session. I did about ten minutes stretching, fifteen minutes rowing and ten minutes jumping rope and the rest was just fucking around. I absolutely hate the gym. It's full of meat heads and rugby players and people who appear to have nothing better to do than obsess over how big their biceps look. And then there are the weedy guys trying to put on some muscle, and the Japanese exchange students who just seem to delicately bounce up and down on the cross-trainers and not perspire at all. It's just depressing. I feel like I lose brain cells whenever I go there. And it feels highly voyeuristic, as gyms go. Probably because there are mirrors everywhere and it's all open. But I pay £20 a month for it, so I forced myself to go because otherwise it's just a waste of money. Ugh. I wish I could learn to love it, but I know I never will. Exercise always feels pointless, and ironically whenever it's over my endorphin count seems to massively decrease. I wish I could get addicted to it, like other people seem to. But it's an unappealing addiction compared to, say, smoking or drinking, both of which seem to chime in just a little too well with my personality.
I feel lost. Part of my head is saying, you've had your break. Now it's time to get back to it. The voice is snarling, You can't honestly be serious. That was it? Two measly weeks and you just gave up? Well yeah, I gave up, but it's because four pounds weight loss in two weeks just isn't enough to encourage me. I feel like I can lose that amount overnight with a bunch of laxatives and a two-litre bottle of Diet Coke. I'm so desperate to get past 160. It can't be that bloody hard. I was 145 until I came to university. In fact, I was 145 for round about five years. Which all leads me to believe that this horrible, six-month interlude spent in the 160s is just a blip, in the grand scheme of things, and my weight will fall back down in due course. I guess I keep confusing my body, with all of these different things. If I just stuck to "healthy eating" (whatever that means) and exercise, and not eating after dinner, it would probably all fall off.
That sounds like something my mother would say, and my mum being my mum, she's generally right.
I've been reading about intuitive eating. It all seems... too good to be true, for want of a better phrase. I always fantasise about my future self, who eats only when she is hungry and doesn't stuff her face uncontrollably when things go to shit. And it's true that the majority of "naturally thin" people I know do eat when they're hungry and stop when they're full. But I don't know if I can do the same. I feel like my body has become way too comfortable up here. But before I hit 21 I never averaged over 148 lbs unless I was bingeing quite considerably, and so it's deeply unnatural for me to be here. At least I hope 160+ hasn't become my new adult norm. That would be depressing not to mention fucking terrifying.
My target of 150 still hasn't left my head. And Easter isn't getting any further away.
I went to the gym today for an hour, although it was an incredibly unproductive session. I did about ten minutes stretching, fifteen minutes rowing and ten minutes jumping rope and the rest was just fucking around. I absolutely hate the gym. It's full of meat heads and rugby players and people who appear to have nothing better to do than obsess over how big their biceps look. And then there are the weedy guys trying to put on some muscle, and the Japanese exchange students who just seem to delicately bounce up and down on the cross-trainers and not perspire at all. It's just depressing. I feel like I lose brain cells whenever I go there. And it feels highly voyeuristic, as gyms go. Probably because there are mirrors everywhere and it's all open. But I pay £20 a month for it, so I forced myself to go because otherwise it's just a waste of money. Ugh. I wish I could learn to love it, but I know I never will. Exercise always feels pointless, and ironically whenever it's over my endorphin count seems to massively decrease. I wish I could get addicted to it, like other people seem to. But it's an unappealing addiction compared to, say, smoking or drinking, both of which seem to chime in just a little too well with my personality.
I feel lost. Part of my head is saying, you've had your break. Now it's time to get back to it. The voice is snarling, You can't honestly be serious. That was it? Two measly weeks and you just gave up? Well yeah, I gave up, but it's because four pounds weight loss in two weeks just isn't enough to encourage me. I feel like I can lose that amount overnight with a bunch of laxatives and a two-litre bottle of Diet Coke. I'm so desperate to get past 160. It can't be that bloody hard. I was 145 until I came to university. In fact, I was 145 for round about five years. Which all leads me to believe that this horrible, six-month interlude spent in the 160s is just a blip, in the grand scheme of things, and my weight will fall back down in due course. I guess I keep confusing my body, with all of these different things. If I just stuck to "healthy eating" (whatever that means) and exercise, and not eating after dinner, it would probably all fall off.
That sounds like something my mother would say, and my mum being my mum, she's generally right.
Monday, 16 February 2015
Day 13
166.0. Ugh when will this end.
My sleep got thoroughly screwed up this weekend so I'm blaming the weight gain on that. My body just seems to get extremely confused whenever I eat past midnight, so that's going to be a new rule from now on - no more eating into the early hours.
Today's intake:
-Starbucks soy vanilla spice latte (230 cal) <-- a ridiculous amount of calories for a coffee, immediately regretted it
-Caesar salad (300 cal)
-Potato salad (90 cal)
-Diet coke (1 cal)
-Binge at 11pm (somewhere in the range of 800 calories)
In general, I'm torn about my diet. Part of me wants to subsist off a shoestring-budget diet of pasta, lentils and dirt-cheap oatmeal; the other half deems that an unacceptable amount of carbs, and wants to live on fat-free coffee from Starbucks and expensive Caesar salads. Pasta and pesto was always a go-to meal, but after discovering how many calories it contained, I've always equated it with food slobbery and complacency - the kind of food you eat in your pyjamas when you've got no fresh produce and a trip to the supermarket is just too much. Pasta is a lazy meal, but it's the cheapest option by a long shot, and I can't keep spending the amount that I do without running into serious trouble.
Here is the reality: I have exactly three weeks to lose a minimum of 11 pounds. I refuse to go back home a pound over 155. It's just not an option. But my sleeping patterns and activity levels undulate so aggressively that it's seemingly impossible to stick to a schedule. The ideal, really, would be to rise at 7 every morning, and be tired enough to pass out by 10pm at night - but when has that ever been the case? In me, it's always ended in mania - hitting a point of tiredness and then pushing through until 5am the next day. Why is it that I feel more alert after twenty-four hours awake than I do upon waking up? My body, or more specifically my body clock, confuses the hell out of me.
Once I'm out of the 160s for good things should (technically) become easier for me, psychologically at the very least. If the past two weeks hadn't been such a failure of an experiment I would be adamant about returning to 600 calories tomorrow, but I feel like it's not working. Maybe my attention span is just too damn short; maybe it's making me eat erratically, some days 1000 or more, some days 400 - and, indefinitely, that can be worse than bingeing.
I fantasise about being able to eat "intuitively" - whatever that means. For me, at least, I know how to tell the difference between real hunger and psychological hunger. Perhaps waiting for the moment intense hunger strikes - pangs and all - as cue to eat seems risqué, but on some level it feels more logical than eating neurotic 100-calorie meals every three hours and never truly feeling satiated. Logic is telling me that I wouldn't overeat if I listened to my hunger cues. If I listen to emotional hunger cues, sure - but isn't it easier to resist a binge if you know (on the whole) that you're giving your body what it needs, when it actually needs it?
Maybe it's a long-shot, but I refuse to struggle through a further two weeks of restricting (and after all, that's what I've been doing - consistently eating a stupidly low amount of calories - given my height and weight - for the best part of a fortnight) only to remain an uncomfortably-chubby-but-not-quite-fat 166.
An adequately-sized bowl of oatmeal (made with water but occasionally soy milk and honey) has always kept me full way past lunch time. So I'm going back to that. And then I'm going to make a tupperware of pasta - or, alternatively, a sandwich - for when I get hungry out. Because that's when I run into trouble; getting hungry at the library, and making impulse purchases on only semi-decent baguettes and coffee from the cafe. Coffee, as a rule, will only be taken black from now on. I can't believe how many calories are in Starbucks lattes. It's kind of insane how we all wolf down these glorified milkshakes every day and wonder why we're getting cellulite.
The no-eating-past-midnight rule still sticks, by the way. The fact that I binged at midnight and not 6pm made it all ten times worse. We'll see what happens with my weight. But surely this yo-yo restricting and bingeing is what got me into this range to begin with. I think if I tell myself I'm not depriving my body of anything useful then it'll be far more inclined to agree with me and cooperate. I think, I pray, I hope.
166.0. Ugh when will this end.
My sleep got thoroughly screwed up this weekend so I'm blaming the weight gain on that. My body just seems to get extremely confused whenever I eat past midnight, so that's going to be a new rule from now on - no more eating into the early hours.
Today's intake:
-Starbucks soy vanilla spice latte (230 cal) <-- a ridiculous amount of calories for a coffee, immediately regretted it
-Caesar salad (300 cal)
-Potato salad (90 cal)
-Diet coke (1 cal)
-Binge at 11pm (somewhere in the range of 800 calories)
In general, I'm torn about my diet. Part of me wants to subsist off a shoestring-budget diet of pasta, lentils and dirt-cheap oatmeal; the other half deems that an unacceptable amount of carbs, and wants to live on fat-free coffee from Starbucks and expensive Caesar salads. Pasta and pesto was always a go-to meal, but after discovering how many calories it contained, I've always equated it with food slobbery and complacency - the kind of food you eat in your pyjamas when you've got no fresh produce and a trip to the supermarket is just too much. Pasta is a lazy meal, but it's the cheapest option by a long shot, and I can't keep spending the amount that I do without running into serious trouble.
Here is the reality: I have exactly three weeks to lose a minimum of 11 pounds. I refuse to go back home a pound over 155. It's just not an option. But my sleeping patterns and activity levels undulate so aggressively that it's seemingly impossible to stick to a schedule. The ideal, really, would be to rise at 7 every morning, and be tired enough to pass out by 10pm at night - but when has that ever been the case? In me, it's always ended in mania - hitting a point of tiredness and then pushing through until 5am the next day. Why is it that I feel more alert after twenty-four hours awake than I do upon waking up? My body, or more specifically my body clock, confuses the hell out of me.
Once I'm out of the 160s for good things should (technically) become easier for me, psychologically at the very least. If the past two weeks hadn't been such a failure of an experiment I would be adamant about returning to 600 calories tomorrow, but I feel like it's not working. Maybe my attention span is just too damn short; maybe it's making me eat erratically, some days 1000 or more, some days 400 - and, indefinitely, that can be worse than bingeing.
I fantasise about being able to eat "intuitively" - whatever that means. For me, at least, I know how to tell the difference between real hunger and psychological hunger. Perhaps waiting for the moment intense hunger strikes - pangs and all - as cue to eat seems risqué, but on some level it feels more logical than eating neurotic 100-calorie meals every three hours and never truly feeling satiated. Logic is telling me that I wouldn't overeat if I listened to my hunger cues. If I listen to emotional hunger cues, sure - but isn't it easier to resist a binge if you know (on the whole) that you're giving your body what it needs, when it actually needs it?
Maybe it's a long-shot, but I refuse to struggle through a further two weeks of restricting (and after all, that's what I've been doing - consistently eating a stupidly low amount of calories - given my height and weight - for the best part of a fortnight) only to remain an uncomfortably-chubby-but-not-quite-fat 166.
An adequately-sized bowl of oatmeal (made with water but occasionally soy milk and honey) has always kept me full way past lunch time. So I'm going back to that. And then I'm going to make a tupperware of pasta - or, alternatively, a sandwich - for when I get hungry out. Because that's when I run into trouble; getting hungry at the library, and making impulse purchases on only semi-decent baguettes and coffee from the cafe. Coffee, as a rule, will only be taken black from now on. I can't believe how many calories are in Starbucks lattes. It's kind of insane how we all wolf down these glorified milkshakes every day and wonder why we're getting cellulite.
The no-eating-past-midnight rule still sticks, by the way. The fact that I binged at midnight and not 6pm made it all ten times worse. We'll see what happens with my weight. But surely this yo-yo restricting and bingeing is what got me into this range to begin with. I think if I tell myself I'm not depriving my body of anything useful then it'll be far more inclined to agree with me and cooperate. I think, I pray, I hope.
Sunday, 15 February 2015
Saturday, 14 February 2015
Day 11
165.0, fuck my life. I need to find a way to break out of this plateau.
I've never not been able to lose weight whilst restricting. It all leads me to believe my metabolism is so slow that even a fraction over 1000 and I swing back to where I was before. It sucks so much.
Part of me just wants to go back to eating whatever.
Restricting is such a fucking drain. And what do I have to show for it - 5 measly pounds of water weight. I can't even see the difference on my body, because not one of those pounds was fat.
Feel like swallowing a bunch of laxatives or something.
L applied to the job I was going for too. The idea, then, became that we'd work together and go to our shifts together, but she got it and I didn't. I'm so annoyed. Because I didn't get it, I have to work in London in the summer holiday instead of going to LA to be with my dad. I'm so upset.
This was like my last chance to prove to my parents that I actually know the value of money. It doesn't even matter if I get another job now, they've made their minds up that I have to work when I come home.
I overslept, it's almost 4 now and I just got out of the shower. I wish I could fast today but I feel so pissed off and upset that I know I won't stick to it. Unfortunately, I feel like eating everything. Bingeing out of my mind. But then I'll be back up to 170 before I can blink, and all of this will have been for nothing.
I wish my response to unhappiness and failure was to not eat. I'd rather have an anxiety that stopped me from eating than an anxiety that made me want to eat everything in sight.
165.0, fuck my life. I need to find a way to break out of this plateau.
I've never not been able to lose weight whilst restricting. It all leads me to believe my metabolism is so slow that even a fraction over 1000 and I swing back to where I was before. It sucks so much.
Part of me just wants to go back to eating whatever.
Restricting is such a fucking drain. And what do I have to show for it - 5 measly pounds of water weight. I can't even see the difference on my body, because not one of those pounds was fat.
Feel like swallowing a bunch of laxatives or something.
L applied to the job I was going for too. The idea, then, became that we'd work together and go to our shifts together, but she got it and I didn't. I'm so annoyed. Because I didn't get it, I have to work in London in the summer holiday instead of going to LA to be with my dad. I'm so upset.
This was like my last chance to prove to my parents that I actually know the value of money. It doesn't even matter if I get another job now, they've made their minds up that I have to work when I come home.
I overslept, it's almost 4 now and I just got out of the shower. I wish I could fast today but I feel so pissed off and upset that I know I won't stick to it. Unfortunately, I feel like eating everything. Bingeing out of my mind. But then I'll be back up to 170 before I can blink, and all of this will have been for nothing.
I wish my response to unhappiness and failure was to not eat. I'd rather have an anxiety that stopped me from eating than an anxiety that made me want to eat everything in sight.
Friday, 13 February 2015
Day 10
Still stuck at 164. Seems like some kind of plateau. Ugh. So I'm officially 1/5 of the way through the resolution and I've lost 6 lbs in total. If I were to lose 6 more pounds every 10 ten days after this, I'd be 140 by the end of it, but that's wishful thinking.
-Coffee with coffee mate and Splenda (35)
-Toast with butter and jam (150)
-Soy cappuccino, extra shot (80)
-Rice cakes (100)
-Pita bread, grilled (150), tomato puree (60), mozzarella (250), basil (2), rocket (8), chorizo (80), olives (70)
-Diet coke (1)
-Refreshers (50)
Total: 1036
Fuck.
For some reason I thought it was going to be like... 600 calories. This is why I should keep tabs throughout the day. When all I eat until 11pm is a piece of toast and a coffee, I think I'm doing okay, but I always overcompensate later.
I guess the solution to this is sticking to a very small number of calories at night and having a cut off point. Actually the cut off point up until now hasn't been that bad (since I started this thing, I haven't eaten past 2am). But it needs to be more like 11pm. So that even if I go to bed at 3 or 4, I'm not eating up until that point.
Tomorrow I HAVE to keep it under 1000. 600 doesn't seem to be happening right now but it's not so hard to stick to 800. 800 calories is a lot of food to me now.
I just want to see 163, and then lower. To prove to myself that this is actually doing something, and going somewhere. Ugh.
Still stuck at 164. Seems like some kind of plateau. Ugh. So I'm officially 1/5 of the way through the resolution and I've lost 6 lbs in total. If I were to lose 6 more pounds every 10 ten days after this, I'd be 140 by the end of it, but that's wishful thinking.
-Coffee with coffee mate and Splenda (35)
-Toast with butter and jam (150)
-Soy cappuccino, extra shot (80)
-Rice cakes (100)
-Pita bread, grilled (150), tomato puree (60), mozzarella (250), basil (2), rocket (8), chorizo (80), olives (70)
-Diet coke (1)
-Refreshers (50)
Total: 1036
Fuck.
For some reason I thought it was going to be like... 600 calories. This is why I should keep tabs throughout the day. When all I eat until 11pm is a piece of toast and a coffee, I think I'm doing okay, but I always overcompensate later.
I guess the solution to this is sticking to a very small number of calories at night and having a cut off point. Actually the cut off point up until now hasn't been that bad (since I started this thing, I haven't eaten past 2am). But it needs to be more like 11pm. So that even if I go to bed at 3 or 4, I'm not eating up until that point.
Tomorrow I HAVE to keep it under 1000. 600 doesn't seem to be happening right now but it's not so hard to stick to 800. 800 calories is a lot of food to me now.
I just want to see 163, and then lower. To prove to myself that this is actually doing something, and going somewhere. Ugh.
Thursday, 12 February 2015
Day 8 & 9
164.2!!! I have no idea how that happened. But I'm not going to question it.
Day 7 finished off with two cups of coffee at a social in town, and then a sandwich thin when I got home. Yesterday I had around 1000 calories which is why I'm so surprised I dropped an extra two pounds.
Oh well, 6 lbs in 8 days is not something to complain about. I hope I can keep this up.
So far today:
-Toast with strawberry jam (120 cal)
-Soy cappuccino (80 cal)
-Deli chicken (100 cal)
-Baguette (150 cal)
-Olives (95 cal)
-Sparkling orange soda (45 cal)
590 cal already which only leaves around 100 left for dinner. The lunch was a bit of a mistake but L bought a bunch of deli stuff and I couldn't say no. I took some ritalin after eating though so hopefully I won't feel hungry until around 8 or 9 (it's 6pm now).
164.2!!! I have no idea how that happened. But I'm not going to question it.
Day 7 finished off with two cups of coffee at a social in town, and then a sandwich thin when I got home. Yesterday I had around 1000 calories which is why I'm so surprised I dropped an extra two pounds.
Oh well, 6 lbs in 8 days is not something to complain about. I hope I can keep this up.
So far today:
-Toast with strawberry jam (120 cal)
-Soy cappuccino (80 cal)
-Deli chicken (100 cal)
-Baguette (150 cal)
-Olives (95 cal)
-Sparkling orange soda (45 cal)
590 cal already which only leaves around 100 left for dinner. The lunch was a bit of a mistake but L bought a bunch of deli stuff and I couldn't say no. I took some ritalin after eating though so hopefully I won't feel hungry until around 8 or 9 (it's 6pm now).
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