I didn't link up to Mumentum last week, because I didn't really have much to report. I was also quite pre-occupied with Fred's birthday preparations.
I'm still listening to my Slimpods and am not experiencing any extreme greed related behaviour. I'm not weighing myself at all and I'm not stressing about my weight loss.
I am however starting to see a real downturn in my mood. I'm feeling really low. I used to enjoy my weekly food shop, planning menus as I perused the aisles. I used to love cooking and enjoyed making good wholesome veggie dinners for my family. But it's like I just can't be bothered with food anymore. Shopping and cooking have lost all their joy. I didn't even bake a birthday cake for Freddy...thank goodness Nana brought round a jelly tot covered sponge cake for him as a surprise!
I feel really detached from the pleasure of eating. As a real self-confessed foodie, this feels very wrong. I just can't be bothered with it all. Poor Ian is doing most of the cooking because I can't find the motivation. I happily eat it...but the joy surrounding the preparation and the interest I have in food has waned.
Being a size 12-14 is nice and I feel slimmer, but my passion has been lost along with the pounds. At first it was exciting to feel that my appetite was suppressed but the knock on effect has deadened a part of my personality. I don't want to go back to my disgusting old ways and I'm genuinely delighted that I am cured of my obsessive, self destructive gluttony. But something isn't right with me.
I know I have a history of depression and this could just all be a part of life's great plan to periodically test my mental state...and whereas I'd usually drown out the negative thoughts with cake, I don't have the compulsion to comfort eat. That in itself is a good thing, but also means I don't have the tools to soothe away the demons with calories and cream!
My favourite jeans are all too big and I'm down to the last hole on my belt. Instead of embracing this and buying new clothes, I'm slobbing around in my baggy, old gear and feeling dowdy. The skin on my belly is not a pretty sight. No longer padded by fat, its an unattractive apron and a reminder of my past problems.
I don't know why I'm not celebrating and striving for more dieting success. I still could do with shedding another stone, but I feel like I'm sinking and losing a part of myself along with the fat. Losing weight isn't a cure all for deeper issues, and obviously my self-esteem hangs in a fragile balance. Maybe it's just a phase but I really wish my joie de vivre and my zest for life, food and fun would return.
I need a make-over...but wouldn't know where to start!
I'm hoping my three day adventure in London will resurrect something inside me that has quite frankly curled up and died.
I didn't intend for this to be a depressing post...sorry!! It kind of wrote itself and who am I to deny a voice to my unconscious mind!!
I will cheer up, I will snap out of it and I will feel better about myself again soon. Then I can take joy in my success and stop making everybody miserable with my whining!
