Thursday, 28 March 2013

Reach down low, touch your toes (plus 800 days in a row)

My desire to eat is dwindling by the day. Food simply doesn't interest me as much as it used to, in any way. My mood has been plummeting, and I'm setting a course for self-destruction.

My intake has been good. Or bad, depending on who you ask.
Tuesday, my usual 'treat' day after being weighed, only reached 914 calories. Yesterday was 436 cals, consisting of a slice of wholemeal toast, nonfat yoghurt, two apples, a mandarin (clementines, for you non-Aussie folk), grapes, and a super-light Caesar salad. Oh, and a metric tonne of coffee. I can't say I've exactly been trying to eat more. I told mum I would try today, so I'm cooking bolognese and drinking tonight. I bought a bottle of Penfolds '07 Shiraz on Tuesday, but spent all day crying and didn't trust myself to drink. So I'll be pushing around 1,000-1,200 calories today, followed by four days of routine (500-800 cal) before I get weighed.

A little achievement... for the first time in my entire life, I can touch my toes. It only took me 20 years! Sorry it's such an awkward photo. I've never been able to do it - I think my height's always restricted me (I'm 6'1", with disproportionately long legs), though I'm not too sure why I can suddenly do it now.

And on a random note, yesterday I reached 800 days in a row on MyFitnessPal. This has got to be some kind of record for this app (any challengers?). It's more than two years of faithful calorie counting. My dietician was gobsmacked. Through hell and high water, I haven't missed a single day.

Sorry for such a disjointed post. I've been completely emotionally drained these past few days, and haven't exactly got much to say.


Tuesday, 26 March 2013

The Longest Walk

I follow her down the seemingly-endless hallway. It always strikes me as being my weekly 'Walk of Shame'. She turns on the scales, waits for a moment, and I step on sideways (it's much easier than stepping on backwards). I was certain I've gained, or at least not lost.
We get back to her office, and she looks at the computer screen with her brow furrowed. She tells me it's dropped down.

I've lost weight, in only a few days of not-so-restrictive intake. My dietician looked worried - is worried. I told her I have my 100-cal safe options for each of my five meals, and she wants me to make each meal at least 150 (total 750). I don't feel like I can commit to bigger meals for every meal of every day though, so I'm aiming to change just one meal a day, to get me to 6-700 calories... maybe.

It was only a quick appointment, since I saw her on Friday. It made it very easy to go over what I've eaten since then.
Saturday, I made low fat wholemeal pizzas for my family, and I drank a bottle of wine. Reached 1,200 calories for the day, but ended up being sick.
Sunday, I only had half of my soup for dinner, but I had a small chocolate bar before bed. (550 cals total)
Yesterday, I skipped lunch and only had one of my apples in the afternoon, so mum encouraged me to have a chocolate bar for supper. I cried. Ran short on my daily carbs anyway. (450)

So basically, I'm getting nowhere fast. I try, and just can't do it. I'm just floating around, slowly shrinking, waiting for a reason to change and not finding one. I just want to keep losing more.

I'm starting to get my confidence back a bit since dying my hair, and putting makeup on again. My skin is so awful right now, and having nice hair and makeup distracts from it. I even went to the supermarket after the dietician this morning, and didn't feel too self-conscious. Strike one to Bella!

As always, thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and comment. This community means so much to me, and I'm so glad I've had the opportunity to connect with so many of you lovely ladies.


Sunday, 24 March 2013

Tempting voices and shrunken ears

"Just a few more weeks," chimes the voice in my head "just a few more kilos, then you'll be happy maintaining."
I've been playing the same game for years, and I know I'll never win. I'll never be thin enough, yet I still keep trying. I could lose another 20lb, and still want to lose 'just a few more'. But those poisonous whispers still sound so sweet.

On a lighter note, Mum told me the other day that I've "lost more weight in [my] right ear". Apparently she's noticed my piercing jewelry seriously needing a downsize (ditto for my navel and napes). Needless to say, it sent me into a fit of laughter. It just seemed hilarious at the time. "Dear God, not my right ear!"

I drank last night, after a day full of stress and anxiety. As well as a hearty dinner to soak it up, the total damage was only 1,205 for the day - 300 beforehand, 500 for wine, 400 for dinner. A lot of it came back up, anyway (whoopsie). Honestly, I'm not drinking that often. Once or twice a week, though that's still too much. My dietician says that all calories have some nutritional value for me, even the empty ones. So that eases the guilt a tiny bit, strangely enough.

I'll be ending today closer to 550 calories, and tomorrow will probably be similar. To be honest, I think I need a daily bitch-slap from my dietician. On Tuesday, I might ask her to write me a frank note for me to look at each morning. Maybe I'll do some goal-setting with her too, if I feel less conflicted about it by then.

I'm also trying to keep up with this 'boosting my self-esteem' thing, so I dyed and straightened my hair. I absolutely love having freshly dyed hair, I should really do it more often.


Friday, 22 March 2013


My dietician is truly a sweetheart. She was working Friday this week, not Tuesday, and wasn't supposed to start until midday. Knowing that I don't eat or drink before being weighed, she insisted on seeing me at our regular time of 8:10 anyway, only to leave straight after. It's not like I would've minded being unable to eat or drink until 1pm, but I think she knows that too.

I explained that I'm feeling very ambivalent about weight and food, that I don't know what to do. Some meals are bigger, most are not. She told me that my weight cannot drop any further, and she's not at all comfortable with how much I've lost. I said that I eat more when I feel able, but it's getting harder. She said she's worried about both my mental and physical state right now, and I need to reverse the 'downward trend'. I hate seeing her look so worried. But, at the same time, she doesn't want to push me because she's scared I wouldn't come back. Apparently it's a miracle I'm not in a medical crisis. She doesn't know how I've avoided one. To be honest, neither do I.

She weighed me right at the end of the appointment. If I'm weighed at the start, she can't get a proper conversation out of me.
"Exactly the same!" chirps the dietician. My cursed ambivalence.
I see her again in only a few days, on my regular Tuesday. "One meal at a time" seems to be my motto right now. I'm cooking my usual weigh-day treat dinner and having a few glasses of wine tonight, and the next few days I'm aiming for 5-800 calories. Something along those lines, anyway...

Also, I've had like 0% self esteem lately, and haven't wanted to show my face in public. I tried to make myself feel a bit better by putting on makeup today... didn't really work. Sigh. Oh well.

Wishing you all a wonderful weekend,

Wednesday, 20 March 2013


I saw the GP yesterday. It was just one of those days, and I didn't feel much like talking. She put me up to 100mg seroquel, and gave me more ointment for my fingers to see if I can avoid antibiotics. As soon as we left I cried in the car. Just one of those days.

Today has been routine. I'm moments away from bed, and my calories are slightly under 500 for the day. Yesterday was more like 900. I'm doing what I can with each meal, but most meals I just have my safe 100-cal options. Soup, apples, grapes, toast and yoghurt are my 'go-to's right now. Sometimes, like yesterday, I'll cook a family dinner, or we'll all share cheese and crackers. But most of the time, I just have zilch motivation for food.

I can't wait to talk with my dietician on Friday. I feel lost and confused, like I'm stumbling around while my head's at war. Lose, maintain, eat, don't eat. I'm breaking down in tears and hurting myself more again. I just need something to ground me, something to end the chaos. I need a reason not to lose more. But there isn't one. Until then...

In an effort to ignore everything going on in my head, I've been doing needlework like crazy. I stitched this lost little teddy bear in four days. Obviously, I have precious little else to do with my time. Technically it's a needlepoint, not a cross stitch, but whatever. Isn't he just adorable?


Monday, 18 March 2013

Mind over Matter

I'm finding myself, more often than not, feeling strangely torn. I'm still driven to lose weight, but I know that I should move back towards maintenance. It's a problem of mind over matter. My daily calories reflect my headspace. On a usual day, it's close to 500. On a day I can reconcile things in my head, and feel half-okay with eating a bit more and maintaining my weight, it'll head toward 1,000. But how much longer can my body take the indecision? I don't know. I don't know.

A lot of its a case of mind over matter though, isn't it? My head is the only ruling voice on what I can and can't eat, how much I should weigh. Mum will try to console me that I "haven't really eaten that much", or that I "don't need to lose more weight", and I bark back at her that she doesn't decide that. My eating disorder does, and no one else. My dietician can't help convince me to up my calories either, because my head just doesn't seem willing.

I'm taking things one day at a time, one meal at a time, one moment at a time. And my weight is slowly dropping. Even if I actively tried to maintain my weight now, it wouldn't work, it wouldn't 'stick'. While there's such combat in my head, while I still have that burning desire to lose weight, there's no change. How do I make my head okay with maintaining my weight again? I just don't know. Sorry, I'm rambling here. I'm feeling very confused and full-of-thoughts.

I'm off to the lovely GP tomorrow afternoon. I'm pretty sure I have another infection already. I have such a long list of things to ask about, and I'm barely making a dint in it. I guess I'll see what comes up tomorrow and just go with it.

Thank you all for your continued support, it means the world to me.


Saturday, 16 March 2013

Busy hands make quiet stomachs

Ta-da! A kitty.

I had an epiphany of sorts the other day: that nothing really matters. But not in a woeful way. It's like something clicks, and I realize: Eat, don't eat, it'll all be the same in the morning. Go on a cooking marathon, don't enter the kitchen, the obsession will still be there tomorrow. Hungry, full? Who cares. None of it actually matters, and the realization filled me with a bizarre giddiness. I don't know what triggered it, but it feels good.

Yesterday I was very distressed, and couldn't keep together enough to cross stitch. It was not a good day. I'm so glad I'm seeing the lovely GP on Tuesday. So, I finished it today instead. Sorry it's not much to look at. I've spent hours cross stitching and, apart from yesterday, it's kept my worries at bay. I'm starting on another tomorrow, which is bigger and more detailed. For now at least, it's proving to be a great distraction. I haven't even given a thought to food until mum prompts me to have my next mini-meal.

My intake's been sitting comfortably around 500, and I'm hoping to see some downward-action on the scales this week. The dietician is away for a seminar on Tuesday, so I'm seeing her first thing Friday instead. It's become cold and rainy, so I timed it well for making a batch of soup. I'm also drinking much more coffee again, in a futile attempt to warm myself up.

And I'm still avoiding it like the plague, but I know I need to weigh myself soon. I've lost at least a couple of kilos in the last few months, and I couldn't be more than 45kg (BMI 13.1), maybe even a little less but I don't want to get my hopes up. I did some quick measurements the other day, and they've gone down a bit since October. I'll do a proper measure when I (eventually) weigh, and update my stats then. It seems like I'm always waiting 'just two more weeks', ugh.


Wednesday, 13 March 2013

Bare legs and breakdowns

I went to the dietician dressed in a skirt and singlet, no jumper or fleece-tights required. It was already 28*c by 8am, heading to 38*c, and the only Tuesday of the year that I haven't been utterly freezing en route to my appointment. As much as I hate the extreme heat and the risks associated, I'm loving being able to dress like a normal person. No layers, no snow coats or polar fleece.

My weight stayed the same, which is a relief considering Saturday night. Regardless, I cringed when the dietician said it'd stayed the same. She's not too happy with where my weight is now, to say the least, and wants to see an increase. But I'm still so driven away from weight gain, I don't know why she keeps seeing me.
Broke down in tears six times yesterday.

Today, I'm planning to make soup and wholemeal croutons to last me the next week. My dinner plan is to have either tomato soup or Caesar salad, both using the croutons. I've been craving tomato like mad lately, so I'm glad the weather's cooling back down.

Onto some crafty news... Initially I felt a little disheartened with the cross stitch kit. Back in my day (at the grand old age of 20), the designs were printed onto the cloth. Now they give you blank cloth and a pattern to work from, which I've never done before. So I had a little learning curve. But after I got motivated to start it, it's been a really good distraction. I'm planning to finish it in the next couple of days - it's only a tiny kitty - and I think I'll buy more.

P.S, sorry for all the leg photos recently, I'm sure you're all tired of seeing them. They're the only part of my body I feel halfway-confident with at the moment. Sigh.


Sunday, 10 March 2013

Last night I drowned my sorrows in a half bottle of wine, after spending the day spontaneously bursting into tears. Today I'm worrying about the potential weight gain, so I don't intend on repeating it. I never drink this close to being weighed. My mum reminds me that my weight's been on a 'downward trend' for a while, but I'm still horrified by the thought of gaining weight for a second week in a row.

It's been too hot to have soup for dinner every night, so I've been making my super-light Caesar salads too. For 90 calories, I get;
- 75g cos lettuce (13)
- 4g Parmesan cheese (17)
- 14g Weight Watcher's bacon (13)
- 12g wholemeal bread (baked into croutons) (28)
- 20g homemade dressing (19)
A little goes a long way, and that half ounce of 98% fat-free bacon is the most meat I ever really eat anymore. Honestly? At the moment I struggle with the texture of meat, chicken and fish. I used to add egg whites to my salad, or sometimes chicken breast. Either way, it makes a perfect cold dinner on a 35*c night.

So far today I've had a slice of wholemeal toast with Vegemite (65), an apple (59), some grapes (64), and some more grapes (100) (they're in season, and I'm making the most of it). I'm having a salad for dinner, and a either a pudding cup or some ice cream before bed (90-100). Plus coffee and diet soda, I'll be a little under 500 for the day. Today, my sorrows are just drowning me.

Mum bought me a cross stitch kit today. Reason #417 why I feel like a geriatric. It's a simple little kitten with a bow. Something to keep my hands busy, I guess. I haven't started it yet, but expect to see a picture when I'm done.

As always, my eternal thanks to everyone who's been reading and commenting. Blogging and reading your blogs is truly the highlight of my day. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I'd be completely lost without you lovely ladies.


Thursday, 7 March 2013


I've again come to the realization that my days are very empty. I sit in my chair and smoke and pick, and I wait for time to pass.
I simply don't know what to do with myself.
Why is it so hard to figure out? Do people normally stare into space all day, not sure what to do?

I need to change this. I'm trying, but it's difficult. I don't even do much walking around at the moment because I just don't have the energy. Mum is helping to prepare my food again. And I feel horribly stuck.
I need a goal, I need motivation. I just need something to do.

Maybe I'm depressed. I don't know. I just feel down. My head is a lot calmer since starting seroquel though, which is brilliant. I have my bad days, but I don't feel constantly manic anymore.

We're in the middle of another heat wave, with nearly two weeks straight of over 30*c. I can't wait for autumn to set in. So I've been hiding inside and trying to keep my fluids up, which I'm still failing at most days for some unknown reason. Mum and I have been catching up on Masterchef: The Professionals, so that's been a good distraction.

After the few days of excessive food and drink last week (which did result in a gain), I'm so glad to be back to routine again. I'm back to my tomato soup for 40 calories per cup (and three serves of veggies!), and the bag of grapes is disappearing at a rapid rate. My intake's sitting around 5-600 again, which isn't too bad either way.
On a final note, I had my first Golden Delicious of the season today! It was amazing. So now you don't have to hear me mope about missing my favourite apples anymore.


Sunday, 3 March 2013

The few days spent down the coast were wonderful. Stressful, but wonderful nonetheless.
We shared cake and drank coffee in the hotel cafe, as mothers and daughters should do. We bought local cheese, and went for meandering drives around the waterfront. For dinner, we went to an amazing Italian place, and drank wine both nights. We even went to the buffet breakfast. It was surreal, and so nice to get out of the house and spend time with mum.

Back home, I feel trapped. I have a certain fear to go out in my town, and I didn't have that fear hours down the coast. I had the freedom to go out while we were away, and that freedom's been lost again. I'm back to always being on edge, always looking over my shoulder, on the rare occasion I leave the house.

I'm not too worried about a potential weight gain. Even though we ate out for every meal, I kept my choices and portions sensible. Any gains can be taken care of in the next week. For today, we have a 1kg bag of Thompson seedless grapes in the fridge, which mum and I are planning to start devouring later. And I'm going to make up a big batch of tomato soup to reheat for a lazy dinner option. I'm not cooking much at all anymore, which kinda sucks, but I just don't have the energy.

I can see my body changing, slowly but surely. My arms are shrinking, the hollow in my back below my ribcage deepening. Mum looks at me and tells me I've lost more weight. And yet I'm still so scared of that damn number, and I know it'll never be enough. I still expect the scales to tell me I haven't lost anything.