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Literally and metaphorically.

The UK seems to be basking in sunshine these last few days but not where I am!  Tuesday was nice and sunny, yesterday was grey and cloudy and today looks to be the same.  It is mirroring the state of my mind at the moment.

I am up another 2.2kg in 2 weeks, seriously, wtf is wrong with me and why is this gain not stopping?!  Scrap that, I know the answer – I’m eating too much.  My mind is so conflicted at the moment and I feel like screaming, I’m sick of writing blog posts saying the same old crap but I need to let it out somewhere.

Since I began eating a decent amount, my weight has done nothing but rocket.  I haven’t maintained, lost, had a little gain – I’ve had monster gains.  I was ok(ish) with this initially, because I wanted to get healthier and get myself out of the danger zone.  Now I’m out of the danger zone, I hoped my body would begin to work and cope with my intake (which isn’t excessive) but it isn’t.  It’s just gaining and gaining and gaining and bleugh.  I feel rotten.

I am confused about what I actually want.  I want the best of ALL worlds and it seems that’s impossible.  I want to be able to eat heartily and not constantly gain weight but obviously that isn’t possible, not with me anyway.  My intake for the last few months has only been 2500, it isn’t as if I’m eating 10,000 calories a day but my body seemingly can’t process this amount of food.

My immediate thought was to lower my intake.  This is where the conflict starts.  I could lower my intake without feeling deprived, sometimes.  It would depend on what we ate for dinner, but sometimes I could manage on less food.  Other times I would feel as if I ‘couldn’t’ have that chocolate, or ‘shouldn’t’ have that cake because it would bring my intake up too high and I’d keep gaining.  I want to stop now.  I hate the way I look and I hate the way I feel.

I hoped getting ‘healthy’ would bring energy, it’s done the opposite.  I walked for 10 minutes the other day and my legs felt as if they were going to explode, my calves were burning up and my joints are so sore.  More-so than when I was restricting.  I questioned this with the Doctor, asking why I feel 100 times worse now I’m healthy and he replied “well, when you were a lower BMI you didn’t require a lot of energy to move around, now there is more bulk to move so it will be harder on your body with the additional weight” HA!!  Truth hurts.  He’s totally right though, and he also said to be patient and not expect everything to change as quickly as the weight has/is.

I think because I was stuck for so many years at BMI 14/5 thinking I was ok because it was a big improvement on my worst, and because I could still function and get on – as soon as I realised I needed to make a final push past the discharge weight and properly get better, I wanted it NOW.  Being stuck for so long made me want an instant cure as soon as my logical mind realised things weren’t right.  Now I’ve done the weight bit, but I want the rest of it to catch up NOW.  I am a lot more impatient that I thought I was.

So yeah, I still don’t know what I’m doing.  I’m still eating the minimum intake I set myself, and not knowing whether I should or not.  I want to stop so so badly because I don’t recognise this body I’m in, I don’t feel any better for being a higher weight.  In fact I feel worse, physically and mentally.  I doubted it was even possible, but I actually feel less confident than I did because I’m walking around in a strangers body with rolls of flab I don’t recognise.

On a lighter note, it was my brothers birthday yesterday and we went to an odd but nice restaurant.  I ate Crocodile, Ostrich, Springbok and Kudu (I passed on the Zebra) and a HUGE hunk or carrot cake and ice cream for pud.  Nom nom.  We got him a birthday cake as well so that’s tonight’s pud sorted 🙂

I truly hope I get some sort of acceptance soon or I know what will happen, things will slip right back where they were.  If I can’t get acceptance, I’d settle for some slowing in the weight gain.  I hope brighter skies on on the way.

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