The Wrong Number

It’s going to be one of those weeks, you know when you can just tell?

It didn’t start well. I practically speed-walked the twenty two steps from my bed to the bathroom for my Sunday morning weigh-in, and I could hardly wait to hop aboard. I had really high hopes this week, in fact I was already planning what words I might use to tell you how fabulous I felt at losing [insert impressive number here] pounds. I felt skinny.

Then the Shitbird thing declared a zero loss, and within a heartbeat I felt fat again, like someone behind me had sprung into action and was busy filling my pants with marshmallows. I went from hero to zero in the length of time it took the little digital display to get its shit together and show me the wrong number.

I don’t know what kind of voodoo fuckery is at play here. I’ve stayed within calories pretty much every day, I’ve been to the pool five times. I did the spin class for God’s sake. I’ve attended meetings at work where the free cookies went uneaten and I didn’t even begrudge walking away from them because I felt skinny, right up to the moment where my toe confidently nudged the Shitbird awake yesterday morning. The number it spat out threw shade over all my effort, and I had a massive strop.

And of course, look who’s woken up…the Asshole voice has been chirruping in my earhole ever since.

Look, Dee, your body’s obviously telling you that it needs a break, that’s why you’re not losing any weight. You’re going on holiday in just a few short days…why don’t you take your foot off the gas and give your body the break from dieting that it so clearly needs. You can start again when you get back, and I bet the weight will practically fall off of its own accord because you’ll be so rested and ready to give it everything you’ve got…

It’s so fucking hard not to be influenced by that voice especially when the words are falling onto such fertile ground. You have no idea how much I want to say fuck it and log out of My Fitness Pal without a backward glance. I want to stamp my foot like a stroppy child and head to the deli tomorrow instead of taking a carefully calorie-controlled lunch to work. More than that, I want to cruise around Italy next week drinking my own body weight in gin cocktails and sampling every fucking morsel of food that the army of chefs on board want to throw at me.

You’ve been through the mill Dee. You’ve lost Elsie and you’re still grieving. You’ve had surgery and you’ve had more than your fair share of stress with your mum being ill. If anybody ever deserved a break it’s you. You deserve this holiday. And it doesn’t even really count if your food plan goes a bit off the rails, I mean it’s not like you’re sitting in an armchair and having a binge, is it? You’d just be doing what normal people do on holiday which is eating a bit too much and drinking a bit too much. Just allow yourself that for God’s sake…

On Saturday, I went shopping for new shoes. I remember savouring the feeling of how easy it was to bend down and fasten the straps as I tried to decide which ones to buy, I mean less than two years ago I couldn’t even reach my feet. In the end, I bought three pairs of shoes and a bunch of other stuff, and I justified it all as a treat to myself for making it through a shit summer and keeping my head in the game.

And yet, not twenty four hours later that fucking scale tipped me headlong into a shitstorm by making me feel fat. I argued back and forth with my own head all day yesterday ’till in the end I was even boring myself.

It’s a rollercoaster isn’t it? Yesterday I stayed within calories, went for a good walk and I swam for an hour. Today I’m going to do the same. One foot in front of the other, and repeat, right?  I’m so excited about my forthcoming trip and I do deserve to go away and have a brilliant time. But I’m feeling wobbly, and the Asshole Voice is at his most persuasive.

I need to tread very carefully, that’s all.

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14 thoughts on “The Wrong Number

  1. Hi
    This is my first post so please bear with me (and I wrote it before but the website closed before I could put it on, so if it does come up twice, apologies.) I know it is heresy but is it really a good idea to stay away from the scales all week? I know that is what we are told to do but I hop on every evening and morning. That way I can see if things are going a bit awry (and I usually know why). I might have time to put it right and if not I don’t get a horrible shock. I do have a proper weighing day so calculate from Friday to Friday, it’s just that when Friday comes it doesn’t bring a ghastly surprise.

    1. Hello, welcome! It’s a good shout Rosemary – the reason I mostly stay away from the scale is it’s ability to influence my mood! I find it helps me to remain oblivious to the daily fluctuations which can throw me under the wheels of a binge in a heartbeat ?

  2. Hi, you are on the high seas already, so I am just musing…. Last Fall, you were acutely aware that now you would be enjoying everything on offer [ Get me! “On offer!” ] Even walking the perimeter in the evening air.

    Pool, gym, water slide, walking tour! Ooh, climbing wall! Rappeling? -Don’t mind if I do! Historically, some of us shortchanged ourselves on the Rest & Recreation, only taking any pleasure in things that are fun enough sitting down.

    I’m SO enjoying the thought of you doing lots of things, in addition to flirting with a seductive chef-de-cuisine!

    1. Oh I’ll be doing all of that Fleury! I haven’t set off yet…two more days at work and then a day of nails/toes/lashes on Friday and of course a fake tan! We fly Saturday so I’m still here wishing the days away! ?

      1. whoo-whoo! three more sleeps, huh? …so, did your home region have the spectacle of a red sun – courtesy of Hurricane Ophelia?

        1. It did Fleury, complete with pink sky and weird was a bit freaky to be honest, I kept expecting a triffid to appear outside my window!

  3. The food is not as great as you are imagining. It’s actually the same food temptation you deal with every. single. day. You’re giving it a special significance. Stop that, Dee. It may help. xom

    1. I think you’re right Margaret. Maybe I am doing exactly that because I know there will be an opportunity to eat things I normally wouldn’t…God how I want to though!

    1. I figure stress is due somewhere Fleury…I either stress whilst I’m away because I’m fighting with this fucking voice every day, or I stress when I get home because I look like a whale and I’m back to square one. I’m thinking perhaps some middle ground? Saying it all out loud is helping 🙂

  4. Hold your head high and give yourself the gift of going into this vacation feeling in control. That only happens if you keep putting one foot in front of the other, one small decision at a time.

    You can do this!

    1. Mimi, I’m hopeful that I can hold the line this week. I want to, so the voice is easier to beat. It’s next week I’m worried about because genuinely, I just want to say knickers to it, and surrender to everything on offer…

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