Midsummer night's dream

 I come back from Tuscany. Stumble, even, into the arms of Art Therapist. (We'd better come up with a better name for him. Rob? Robert?) A perfect night, that bleeds into midsummer's day. We drink cider and smoke cigarettes and sit on the rocks by the river Thames. He tells me about his life, about his marriages, his children. He has his eldest son with him this summer, and he is sweet enough to give me "heads up" - I know it's bittersweet... it's great for me as a father, but what about us? It'll make things more difficult. By this, he means, of course, that his place is off-limits, for the time being. He's incredibly straight about the fact that he doesn't know where he is right now. I make some off-colour joke about a third marriage; he doesn't like that, I have pushed too far, I suddenly am painfully aware of where I stand. 

In other news, I have been speaking Italian all week in the Italian Riviera, and it has been fabulous. But despite best efforts, I have stabilised at 196 lbs. This is after a week of only eating two meals a day and zero carbohydrates, so I can't begin to dream of what is wrong with me, my body. This body, always too much; always too much for men, my mother, my sister, everyone; but especially me. 

Keto, Day 2. + Rambling thoughts

Terrible fucking un-HINGEd date last night. Will recount in full detail when I regain the strength, but let me tell you, it was awful. Maybe the worst. Like, wriggle-level bad. I'm currently listening to Keane in my bedroom and feeling... well. I was going to say like a teenager, but I feel like an adult, which is somehow a lot worse. Trying and failing to complete this writing deadline on time. Did I mention I'm a writer? 

I caved (in a good way) and re-booted my keto ways on Wednesday. This is officially two days down, which means it's sticking, and so far I've resisted Kara's takeouts (twice), eating at night (twice) even after said awfully depressing date, and I have to tell you, I feel better. Like, already. I used to write about every microscopic detail of my life, diet and body, and I guess I had a lot more manic energy back then that as an almost thirty-year-old seems to have transferred to unspoken, wordless anxiety. Which is another great case for keeping this blog. It should be a refuge, somewhere to vent, but also somewhere to voice those voiceless 1am concerns that ordinarily result in a midnight binge attack. In three days, I've gone from 90 kilos (198.4 lbs), to 87.8 kilos (193.5 lbs). This is the result of nothing other than vetoing all traces of gluten, fructose, refined sugar and carbohydrates from my diet in an exceedingly aggressive manner. It just reaffirms my suspicions that the majority of my weight gain is inflammation, and its root causes almost certainly lie somewhere on the autoimmune spectrum. 

Ten days til Italy. I have no money but at least I'm losing weight. What did I say my goal was? 84 by then? I don't know. If I keep this up at this rate I'll be hitting it. 

I also think I'm attached to my overweight-ness on some level, only because the minute it starts dropping off, I notice that I begin to feel anxious and afraid. Like my armour is going, my protective padding falling away to reveal what's underneath. Which is fear. Raw, real vulnerability, not this bullshit vulnerability-is-my-superpower persona I've slowly grown into and comfortably inhabited since my abortions five years ago. That was when this all really started, in earnest. Sure, I was fat periodically in my early twenties, I was a university student. I'd been raped, I retreated into the safety of a cosy domestic lesbian relationship, I got comfortable. But I'd never hit 200 pounds before this last year. The better I seem to be doing in my life, the fatter I have grown. But I don't want to equate thinness with illness, addiction, internal chaos or toxic depression anymore. I want to break that cycle. I want to be doing well, and ALSO be at a healthy weight. 

Starting over. Day 1, Take Two.

I'm starting over. I binged on pizza on Day 3, about ~1500 calories' worth, with my roommate. And then yesterday I was just shovelling crisps and chocolate, far too many calories to count. I'm 89.7 kilos today and I've realised I can't keep going like this. Seeing my weight go over the 200 mark yesterday evening was really upsetting. So I'm going to reduce carbs and sugar, and be strict, because I only have 2 weeks until I have to be in a bikini next to my skinny sister and skinny mum near a pool in Italy.

Breakfast was 1/2 a sweet pickle, and egg scramble made with 1 egg and 1/3 carton of egg whites, which I sprinkled tabasco over and a dollop of red pesto. I'm estimating (5) for the pickle, (45) for the pesto and (140) for the scrambled eggs. I have a bit more mobility in my back and hips today, so I'm going to attempt the gym at 12 with Kara. But only really gentle stuff, I can't go hard on the bike like I used to. Then we'll probably get a sushi and coffee lunch, and I have to keep it light for dinner too. Late-night binge eating is my kryptonite. It's just become habit, to shovel in chocolate bars in bed after hours. Terrible. They say it takes 30 days to break a habit, but I don't know, I've been doing this for years and it's a huge reason why I've gained weight. 

Yesterday I trekked to the East End loft to see Art Therapist. We had sex, which was nice, but then I just wanted to get out of there and come home, you see. Bruiser invited me once again to join him at the airport hotel before he flies to Singapore via Dubai for the month. I almost went, I had one foot out the door, but I visualised how grim it would be coming home at 6.30 in the morning, and started to feel like a prostitute - a prostitute that doesn't even get paid - so I took my shoes off and went upstairs in my thigh-highs to crash and burn over endless TV with Kara. It's a good motivation to lose weight, to be skinny when I see B again in July. I want to be 84 for the holiday, and 80 by the end of the month. I know it's extreme but I don't care. I want to shock everyone. 

Day 3

159 (Low fat cheese slices)

275 (Red pepper and ricotta pesto)

30 (Slim noodles)

15 (Iceberg lettuce)

30 (Grapes)

60 (Tomatoes)

140 (Bacon) 

50 (Vegan cheese) 

350 (Caesar dressing) 

1 (Diet Coke) 

90 (Skinny whip bar) 

200 (Sweets)

Total: 1500 

I weighed myself today, 88.7 kilos (195 lbs). My goal is 84 kilos (185 lbs) by June 18th, which is 16 days away. This means time to go extreme. I will not go over 1000 calories for the next two weeks, and we shall see what happens. It seems ridiculously hard to get that low, but I know it's because I'm out of practise. I'm gearing myself up. 

Went to see my chiropractor at 4, and she definitely helped, and wants to see me again tomorrow at 12. I had a bit of a men quandary this evening. Bruiser wants me to meet him in the Hilton hotel by the airport in an hour, but the idea of going all the way there by public transport for some drunken sex then having to traipse back in the early hours churns my stomach. Then Art Therapist texted, and invited me for dinner at the loft tonight in the East End. I've decided I sort of don't want to do either tonight. I want to curl up with my knitting and The Good Place and revel in my own company. I'm just not feeling "sexy" at this weight. 

(Day 2 continued)

 So I ended up having a somewhat "normal" dinner, stir-fried mushrooms, beansprouts and kale with zero-calorie "slim" noodles and 2 packets of Thai green sauce, and Caesar salad. I'm estimating my total for the day ended up around 1,600 calories again.   

According to this website, my "BMR" (aka. the estimated number of calories I burn just from being alive) is 1,687 kcal/day. I've compared with other websites - some say I burn a bit higher (my height is 5'9) but I'm taking 1,687 as the most accurate because it feels accurate. And it explains why I've gained weight, because I have walked around for years assuming my basal metabolic rate was higher - somewhere more in the region of 2,000 calories +. And frequently - in fact, it is the rule not the exception - I am consuming over that figure. Herein lies the problem. This blog is opening my eyes. 

In order to lose a pound of fat per week, I need to drop my calories 500 below my BMR. So it really means 1,100 or less, preferably less, as I have a lot to lose. A lot to lose. I'm not weighing myself for a couple of weeks, I think this is sensible since seeing that shocker the other day. I'm unable to go to the gym right now because of my back, but I am trying to keep my steps up, at least 8,000 a day until I recover from the slipped disc and can go back to my normal regime of 3-4 hours of cardio a week and ~12000 steps a day from walking. I've been signed off work for the next seven days, so there is literally no excuse to not be able to restrict. At work it can get so tiring and I use food to stimulate myself, much like how I use sex and sometimes Ritalin to do the same (during the few weeks of the month I allow myself to take it at full quantity). Currently I don't have my ADD meds, I don't have exercise, and I don't have sex, or binge food. So I'm really on my own with this. It's just me and this restriction diet. 

I'm feeling stretched from that meal. It felt like more than what I'd usually eat but I know it's actually the opposite - that a 1,600-calorie day is actually lower than normal, by my standards.

This has got to change.

More Liza May today. A rare treat to see her two days on the trot. It's nice not going to work and meeting a friend in the park for lunch and a vape, it feels like old times and reminds me of doing this when I was 19 and had no responsibilities. 

I'm watching Factory Girl, trying to get back into that teenage mindset where I idolised Edie Sedgwick and lived and breathed that 60's heroin/speed-chic shit. I wonder if now, at 29, it's just harder to convince myself. Harder to pretend. Harder to fantasise. I've become too much of a realist. I think in order for my weight to change, I have to allow myself to run away with the characters in my head again. I have to allow myself to dream. 

Day 2

15 (Sweet pickled cucumber)

45 (Egg whites, scrambled) 

15 (Sweet chilli sauce) 

5 (Pam spray)

30 (Iced coffee with almond milk) 

115 (Percy pigs) 

87 (Vegetable gyozas with ponzu sauce) 

87 (Sour cream and chilli lentil curls) 

288 (Chicken Katsu dragon rolls) 

1 (Coke Zero) 

Total: 688 so far, but I'm not done for the day, so will be editing. 

I bought a bunch of "safe" low-cal foods for snacks and meals. This includes a ton of John West tuna pots which I haven't eaten in years, along with lollipops, ice pops, and cuppa soups. I am spoilt for choice. I really feel like something has shifted in my mindset. I feel confident that if I keep my calories below 1000 every day for the next three months, I can lose a minimum of 30 pounds. I'm aiming for 40.

Day 1

15 (Pickled onions) 

30 (Seeds)

~700 (Itsu dinner)

300 (Teriyaki rice crackers)

120 (Starbucks) 

1 (Diet Coke) 

240 (Chicken satay with Tabasco) 

40 (Cotton candy grapes)

200 (Chocolate)

??? (Wine)   

Total: ~1646 

See; this is a prime example of why I haven't been losing. I felt like the total was going to be so much lower. I didn't even count the wine, but it was a lot. 

I spent all afternoon wandering around Chelsea with Liza May. We talked fraud and men and weight and getting skinny. Then Bruiser texted and of course, he's jetting off for a good month, so we had to see each other. I think I've slipped a disc in my back. I'm off work for the week, and the weather is gorgeous, so it's the perfect time to start this new bout of restriction. We had sex for hours and did lines in his pent house on the King's Road. We get each other like no one else. He makes everything else melt away, though he shouldn't. 

I feel determined in a new way. I've been reading old archives and trying to gear myself up. I'm back in my room now with the fan on and my hair washed, and I feel my overweightness, I feel its burden on my frame. LM has lost around 30 pounds doing gym twice a day and OMAD. I lack her discipline. I need to find my groove again. I need to get rid of this excess, it's been far too long since I've felt myself.

It begins again

 Using this outdated blogging platform is kind of cute. I used to be an avid poster on here. Rebooting this blog under a discreet name so I can keep track of my diet and weight loss this summer. 

Today is the first of June, the first day of a new start. About ten years ago under different circumstances I lost a lot of weight by keeping track of every calorie that passed my lips and writing/posting it online. I'm at an all time high, 89.5 kilos, 197 lbs. I hate even typing out that number but there it is. I'll be going full-blown restriction. <1000 calories every day, aiming for 500-800. My body has been stubborn and held onto a lot of weight from trauma and stress and frankly, laziness. It's time to shed that excess weight now and "become myself". I don't have a weight loss goal, the goal is just to eat as little as possible this summer and see what happens. I'm not entirely convinced my body CAN lose weight, but I've had every blood test imaginable and there's nothing wrong with me (thyroid, hormonal-wise) that could possibly serve as a medical barrier to shedding fat. It's psychological, I really believe that, and it's time to re-engineer my entire mindset. And body. And ergo, soul. 

Today is Day 1. Watch this space.

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