Emotions

I posted this on the yahoo group but I had to censor it and not write in my normal bitch fuck way because I didn’t want to offend the other members of the raw group.  You know me, all fisher wife and no knickers….

I had an awful evening at work on Tuesday night as some of you may well have read if you can be arsed to read through this drivel and stormed home in a strop to find that I was still in control of my eating *shock horror*. What I mean by that in fat bitch language is, I didn’t order a takeaway or go to the chip shop on the way home. Normally when angry I reach for whatever I can get my hands on and stuff it down my throat without thinking or feeling and whilst either watching a film, reading emails or lost inside my anger. But I didn’t, and I was really happy I didn’t. I had peanut butter on pitta bread with banana. That was rather ice, I stopped at two pittas and not the whole pack so that’s a start right there then.

I followed the menu plan *well that’s not strictly true* I didn’t have a smoothie because I couldn’t be arsed to unpack my blender. But still, I was happy that I didn’t feel the need to binge. I still woke up feeling quite sad on Wednesday, well… quite is not really the word for it. I was fucking sad, I sobbed for a few minutes then watched big brother. I decided to take the day off work and stay home away from what had made me angry in the first place and you all know what that was? Fucking cunting work and the people there - I also didn’t have the energy to continue feeling so furious. I felt a rush of energy mid morning (probably the thrill of taking the day off) which is odd for me and was a bit of a shock to be honest. It was enough to tidy some of my kitchen cupboards and then pamper myself for the rest of the day.

I felt relaxed all day and happy to have taken time off to have my own head space and to give myself some time. Most of the day I found that I was hunting for food (on the prowl as per normal) without realizing how I had even ended up at the fridge. I’m a grazer and like to nibble throughout the day, so I’m happy to say that every time I opened the fridge to graze, I stopped myself because i wasn’t hungry.

I ate a late lunch consisting of cucumber, tomatoes, fresh basil and olives. I watched the F word, with ole Gordon and I didn’t want anything else until much later in the day when I finally made a favourite dish of mine, couscous salad. So being able to stop and think throughout the day and ask myself, ‘am I hungry’ and my answer being a ‘no’ was a good feeling for someone who most days feels so out of control with their eating. In fact, it was a frigging odd feeling to recognise that there was no hunger s why eat? I was focused on how I felt inside, and if I needed the food…for the first time in a very very long time.

It was a break through and if I can keep finding that voice inside my head I shall be ok, because it makes me answerable to me. I also have a sty coming up on my eye which is bugging the life out of me. But hey fucking ho. Oh I now have a buddy - but I can’t speak of that in detail on here.

Smoothie? Or just smooth with the ladieeeessssss……

Today, I made my first smoothie. I brought in a big bag of baby spinach, and two Granny Smith apples, chopped the apples and added some fizzy water into the works smoothie machine. Its amazing really and you know what? Bloody tasty goodness.

I had the call last night to the raw group and I was so tired and hungry, hadn’t eaten and then realised I hadn’t even recharged the land line phone so had to call in on my mobile, so god knows what that wil cost… So I come on in the middle of this blokes intro. Didn’t say anything till the end when really what i said made no real sense at all. I guess I was so tired, so hungry and by this time is was twenty to ten. Knackered I felt a bit of a twat, but went to eat hot food as I had eaten my fifty percent raw. So i had a tea, cooked up some fresh pasta, mince (yes I know but she said we could have our normal evening meal) and parmasan and cheese sauce. Tsk. So obviously I woke feeling heavy and bloated and so so tired I could hardly walk. She said last night that our taste buds have memories. They remember what we had the day before so we may be able to brush off that huge cream cake but our taste buds call for more the next day. Interesting.

I am feeding my heart most days, not listening what my head is telling me. So to drink this fresh green thang this early (well it’s 10am) is quite something. I enjoyed making it and realised it really doesn’t take that long. This afternoon I am going to have some berries smoothed, of course, if they’re still int he freezer. Add water too, pity there isn’t any orange today. I brought the rest of the fresh pasta and cheese (huge tub) in for weezy. I realised that if I want to feel the benefit, i shall have to up the game as Karen said. So i am. I just haven’t had time in the eve to write in my nice new fat book… I want to, so will do that at the weekend.

I booked my fifteen mins (although it looks like on the info sent that its basically only 10 mins) call with Karen today at 11am. I need to at least explain that I find it overwhelming, maybe I am so used to sabotaging myself that I needed that extra something to make me say OK, its time….

Lets see, it feels like a healthy green day…

Raw

I’m feeling raw today, let alone it being the first day on the 30 days to raw which is run by Karen Knowler, raw food guru! Yesterday was Sunday and my shopping, ordered on Friday came. I had stupidly ordered loads of crap stuff, thinking I would be in Famine mode again and war was approaching - usual shite really. So, I ordered crap. Ice cream, cake, red meat…. Most i gorged out on yesterday and on Friday night, i had an Indian Take away.

Bad Bad move seeing I always order for a small country. It made me feel sick and hd to obviously be eaten over the period of two days. By then, you’re in the mode of guilt, the fullness in the belly has gone and the guilt sets in and you know that the other order for sainsburys made on the same day, needs to be altered. So I go to the sainsbury website, but its gone past the time of when they allow you to change the order. So now I am panicking. I have more crap food coming and my Raw eating needs to be monitored from Monday. Sunday will take some binging to get rid of the food that shouldn’t be in my home.



I was supposed to clear cupboards, clear surfaces and get prepared for the 30 days. Instead, I ate and watched films. I spent a few hours after stuffing my face, reading the ebook provided by Karen, feeling guilty, hating myself and looking at myself in the mirror, looking at the mound of what resembles uncooked cooking dough. Not nice, but it facinates me to look at it. Anyway, I had odd dreams, dreamt of Hugh Laurie for some unknown reason, in a not very dyke friendly mode….

So, today is Monday and here i am. At work, with an open bag of carrot sticks and orange in front of me. I have already eaten the radishes, apple and two cups of tea. I likeit that karen doesn’t make you eat breakfast. i already know that i am a grazer and don’t begin that until ten ish. Unless of course I am eating crap. I had curry for breakfast yesterday.

Am I ashamed, kind of. Thn I shopped. I have spent over a grand this month on shopping. Just shopping for bits and bobs for greeting cards, material for aprons (a new little turn on a business idea) in fact, anything just so as I could spend. I can’t keep that up. Over a grand? On little bits to gather dust. Something is really wrong with me at the moment. I only hope that the doctor reads my letter and allows me to go see a therapist for CBT, sooner rather than later. I feel as though I will explode.

Karen wants us to write a journal diary, which I like the idea of, but its easier to type it. the energy will come from my head into my arm and onto paper. I may give it a go later when I am home. I’m tired, upset and moody. Barb said to me that i can’t have gone through life not knowing myself at all. I think i have, to a certain level. I don’t think i really know what makes me tick. or maybe I want to believe that cause it makes it easier to deal with hating myself so much and my failings rather than success’s. Who knows, it tires me.

So this week I am to monitor why I eat, when I eat, what’s going on when i reach for some things. More than not its a habit, i eat because its there, not because I am hungry. It is like having a fag, I eat the way I smoked. This will be hard, I must try to figure it out. As for posting up a picture on the yahoo group, i don’t think that’s going to happen. I don’t have any recent ones. I will read more today from the ebook and see where it leads. The chat is tonight at 8pm, normally i am exhausted by then when I get in. But, lets see what comes fourth. I think she thinks we need to be all dead up, very ‘American’ in our approach. Well, I want to see what’s what first and this is for me, no one else. I can only say yes I am committed and will monitor my eating and hopefully understand more about me, more about eating raw and feel better about myself.

The Monster Cometh

My sister was kind enough burn her Paul *monster* McKenna CD’s for my perusal, several choices of different things which all in all (I can’t remember them off by heart) are mostly aiming at the same devil inside anyone fat, lacking in confidence or needing that certain something… God knows what. But you know what? I’ll pretty much try anything these days, not that i think this is going to do it on its own, but it was worth a try.

After big brother had been closed down in the 4OD browser, I decided to pop the CD into the computer. I laid back on the bed, ready and waiting for Paul McKenna to crawl on in… If I could but explain the droan of voice, so much so that half of the time I couldn’t understand him, then when the devil took over and he started speaking in tongues, I laughed my head off. I text Weezy and professed to wanting to kill Paul… I’m not sure how long I can stomach his voice more than anything. maybe that’s how he gets people to stop eating, his voice drills so deep into the person that they feel like vomiting when he stops…. So no longer getting that urge to eat!

Anyway, I listened until the end of the CD, text Weezy a few more times and then dozed off probably through boredom. I dreamt of fish and chips….

Fat Talks

So as I walk to work, still puffing and wondering if I’m still alive, I contemplate having the energy to share with everyone the ideas had for this site and for all my others. But so far, they are but ideas, because my energy levels are so low, I have no inclination to do squat diddly.

Today at work we, as a staff team had a clear out. A ton of crap, rubbish, old wood and stinky shit from the garden needed to be lifted onto the lorry to be disposed of. It was hard work and I sweated more than anyone. Not because I worked harder, but because it was so darn hot and lifting a little finger these days causes an outbreak of sweat.

All the other stuff paled in comparison to this one piece of work. I researched therapies, read up on the new fangled trend of ‘ARE YOU OBESE?’ websites for you and your child. They have www.fortheadultfatfucker.com and www.foryourfatbastardchildtoo.com Fucked isn’t it? Suddenly, years after myself and Rachel decided to go for funding for body image, the nation seems obsessed and we are now flooded with all these other peeps doing the same thing. It hurts my head.

Part of me wants to learn more and the other part of me wants to shove more food into my mouth. I am full of hatred for me, for the way I look and I am in the process of finding the help I need. In the next few days I shall set up the video cam and film me like this, if I can keep it up, I shall sell it to the first fat cunt TV station that wants to follow me to New Orleans.

I’m so tired, so fat, so unhappy and so very in this world because of ME! Life will move on and be created once again, just not overnight.

Mass of Me

I now know I’m in trouble. Big trouble in Little China! I kind of knew it, I knew something had to be wrong. I have been researching eating disorders and the more I read about being compulsive, the more I recognise that my eating is way way past normal.

So I have written off asking for advice and help and will attempt to see if I can find some kind of therapist/CBT. Who knows, it may help. All I know is that things aren’t changing and I am eating the way I used to smoke, in a compulsive way. Doesn’t matter if I don’t fancy eating, or if I’m not hungry, I eat, as Mummy would say, ‘for the sake of it’. I don’t even enjoy food any more, I just know I can’t stop.

Compulsive Overeating

This is a variation on binge eating where sufferers eat even when they are not hungry, without having the willpower to stop. This may happen all the time or come and go in cycles. Some overeater's just nibble consistently, others binge and then starve themselves before eating again. Most compulsive eaters are overweight and have low self esteem, and use food as a comforter rather than face up to the underlying problem. Many feel guilty about their habit and aim to cover it up.

Treatment for these and other eating disorders begins by recognising and dealing with the problems in your life that cause you to use food as an escape.

I suppose my real journey starts here. I hate that fucking word, 'journey'. Not sure why I used it.  It's fat speak, fucking hate it!

Friends are asking me out more and more and I hate saying no. I hate being this trapped and basically not living. I work, that’s it. I see maybe one friend at a time because I have trapped myself in this world of fat. I am truly at war, I am fearing for my life and it seems too many things are in the way. I need to focus and need to break free. I need some tools, this is where this ever lasting fight will begin once again. My journey to make myself better and to find those tools to help me sort my head out.

Binge Eating Disorder (BED)

This is what I have. This is what I do. From over eating, to compulsive eating, a never ending story of food and weight and eating and lack of control and beating myself u. Every. Single. Day!




Binge Eating Disorder (BED) is the third main type of eating disorder. Also described as “compulsive eating” it is arguably the most common eating disorder. We believe that almost half of all overweight people who seek help for their weight problem suffer from this disorder to a greater or lesser extent. Weight loss in itself however will not cure the problem.

Compulsive eating can feel like bulimia nervosa except that sufferers do not vomit or take laxatives to control their weight. They have a sense of overeating, which feels out of control. It feels as if they are taken over by someone else. Binge eaters may feel as if they have no willpower where food is concerned and they may eat in secret, guilty and miserable about their behaviour. Because of their eating habits they are always struggling to avoid gaining weight, often without success. They may go from one diet to another in the quest for weight loss and eating control.

People with BED may binge, eat small amounts continuously, or pick at food from time to time. Although the medical profession takes this disorder less seriously than anorexia or bulimia, it can ruin both health and someone’s quality of life. As one person put it: “ Food is ruling my life. I wish I could just take it or leave it, but it’s never enough”.

ToolKit

Not too sure what this should be at present. I am rather worried having to start this over for the umpteenth time. So we shall see.

Home is where the muck is…

I feel like my statue head, hanging from the wall. Angry and upset each and everyday and angry at no other person other than myself for failing me each and every day.

To be honest, I don’t like my home. I rarely call it home. I call it ‘the flat’ always have. I guess I never really felt like it was mine or that I was meant to be here for so long. I think I moved in over ten years ago. It was May a long time ago. I wasn’t supposed to be here this long. In my head I had other plans, just not the stamina to carry them through and now, there is no other option but to be here. I can’t afford to buy unless I come into a lot of money and I certainly don’t have an option of moving. Who in their right mind would want to live five flights up in a converted house where you can smell the smoke of the heavy smoker gay boys who moved in last September after the death of Mr Harris.

But I don’t even hate it here because of that! I hate it here because this place has become a self made prison. I spend more time here now than I ever have especially when I have time off from work due. I try to be productive but in a flat as big as a shoe box, I can hardly squeeze myself into it using a shoe horn there isn’t room to swing my cat let alone work on my art stuff or even feel like I want to. My head is all fuzzed up. Yes I know it’s more than the size of a flat causing it. It’s just that everything inside my head becomes a battle with those monsters who live in there. And everyday it seems to get worse. This place needs needs decorating but I don’t like it enough to even do that for a third time. It needs cleaning, but I really can’t be bothered because my energy levels are zero. I do the basics, no more than that.

I know I should dust and wash the floors, get into a routine. I just can’t seem to do it. I stay in because I hate the world and myself. This blog will just be a long long list of whines and moans for the time being. I can hear myself and its even making me wince. But, this is part of fatblog. Part of my right to scream loudly, to whine to give myself even that negativity…If and I mean if it helps me find my way out of this empty pit I feel in my over grown belly. But only if it means escaping my very own prison. If not, then why bother to continue to live this way? I’m not happy, I’m creating this way of being, no one else. So…

You see, when I had a life I never used to be here that much so I guess it didn’t make me feel so crap living in such a tiny space. But now, having given up fags last Jan (06) and having to be forced to smell second hand smoke as well as banging doors, I feel less like living, cleaning, enjoying it for what it is and more like throwing myself out the window. I doubt I shall be that dramatic, but hey, who knows.

Welcome to my world

I chatted to my nephew Cameron last night; he brings a big smile to my face. I told him the night before, when he informed me he that he had new fish and recently that one had died, and that his creatures always die. He said that wasn’t true, so I reminded him of his guinea pig.

He said, ‘He didn’t die I gave him away’

‘Yes, but he committed suicide’

‘How’s that then?’

‘The fox that ate the rabbits was full; the Guinea pig said to the fox, hey what about me…. The fox looked at him and yawned, but I’m full oh guinea pig… The Guinea pig screwed up his face and squealed…. The fox yawned about to make his way off the playground… The Guinea pig jumped for it, right into the fox’s mouth - end of story’

‘I never know if I should believe you Gaga’

‘It’s true, I have proof’

‘How?’

‘I have a note he wrote’

‘Guinea pigs don’t write’

‘Oh yes they do if you don’t give them those big long pens that make them topple over, you have to give them bookie pens or Ikea pencils, then they are OK and they can clutch them with their claws…’

‘Oh right, can I see it’

‘Yes I can scan it in at work and show you’

‘Just bring it in on Monday then…’

‘OK, I will’

The following day, Cameron received a text message.

Cameron, don’t worry, I am OK, and I don’t blame you. I am happy here, love guinea pig”

He called me to tell me. I said, yup I had the same text message. The ‘posh lady, who spoke as he put it, said he was ok. I said ‘yes he told me that too, I think she was the only way he could get through…’

I had to come clean when Cameron told me he felt a shiver and wanted to know why Grandma didn’t contact him that way instead of in dreams. I told him I was messing about. We laughed about it, chatted about his tent and left it at that.

I had first aid most the day yesterday. I was dripping wet in the evening from sweat and heat. Yuck. I am glad we did it though, me, Mon and Weezy passed. That’s out of the way, now ofsted and the core funding application form. Then I can relax.

I ate too much today, I had three bagels, rice, cauliflower, and 2 of those tasteless cod frozen pieces. I also had a bowl of yoghurt and frozen fruit which was nice and popcorn with nothing on it. Yum. Now I have nothing much left really. Oh dear.