One chocolate-ishly flavoured Very Low Calorie Diet shake.
One mighty big glass of water with sugar-free low-kilojoule soft drink fizzafied in the Soda Stream. Yes. I'm allowed to have this kid of cheater's water. True.
All I can think about is food. It's only been a couple of hours, but I'm grieving for the loss of breakfast in my life. Breaky
I've kept myself busy with the school run, swimming lesson for Me-Big-Girl Scarlett and other kid-related activities. I have a headache brewing and can't wait for lunch - another VLCD shake & a cup of salad veggies.
Oh my God I'm hungry. I have shaky hands and my head is thumping. I do a stir-fry for the family's dinner and a stir-fried cup of veggies for me and wash it down with another VLCD shake. I find I automatically reach for bits and pieces of food to pop in my mouth as I cook, but resist. Yay me. I can do this.
I've woken up with a headache again.
There are Froot Loops strewn across the kitchen bench. Nope. I won't eat them. A VLCD shake with one - no, let's go two - teaspoons of coffee in it. The caffeine can battle it out with the Panadol while I take my 2 year old to music playgroup. That'll help.
I make lunches for my kids. Usually it's a slice of ham on the bread and one or two in my mouth, a slice of cheese on this one, a slice of cheese with ham in my mouth. Crusts off and in my gob, too. So much mindless eating that I'm super-conscious of today. But I'm proud to say I resisted.
I want chocolate.
I watch my youngest partially eat her sushi for lunch. I'd normally finish it for her. Today, I pour the milk from a bowl of cereal I hadn't cleaned away onto the sushi and make sure it gets binned.
I thought I was doing really well until I cooked chicken parmigiana for the clan. The smell. The sauce. The dripping melted cheese. Holy hell on a fork.
This is the left-over parma sauce and melted cheese with a bit of baked potato.
Normally, I'd have cleaned that pan. With my tongue.
But I didn't.
As my kids tell me how yummy dinner is, I tell my husband how freaking hard it has been cooking dinner tonight and just how much will-power and resistance it has taken for me to make it, smell it, and watch them eat it. "I love you the way you are," he said. "But you want to do this so you have to deal with it." Bastard. He's lucky he said the first part.
The headache's still there, but it's quietened down a bit allowing for the noise of the stomach growls to be heard instead.
I'm feeling good and positive this morning. I think I'll make up some positive affirmations to wallpaper the house with. Maybe. I escape the lunch-making torture this morning by ordering The Wondertwins their school lunches via the canteen app. I want to eliminate any temptation today.
Then came dinner. This >>>>
But not for me. Not a fry. Not even the rejected pickle from Scarlett's burger. Just a nice cup of steamed veggies, the shake, and a cup of hot Vegemite water. Yes. You heard right. Vegemite. And it wasn't that bad, either.
My headache's back in full swing. I feel light-headed. I'm shaky and I have a loud ringing in my ears which is giving me the shits.
Am I skinny yet?
Day FourI realised this morning that I didn't take my usual antihistamine last night to keep the itchies away. So far, for about 10 years, no one has actually pin-pointed why I need to pop antihistamines, but the need has been acknowledged. I'm no doctor, but I'm guessing it was something in my crappy diet that I'm not having now while I freakin' starve. Maybe I had an allergy to food after all.
Yep, headachy again. Ears ringing again. Hungry. Again.
Mega - I'm talking embarrassingly epic - tantrum in the carpark outside my girls' ballet class this morning. I can't tolerate annoying, whiney, sooky, defiant, uncooperative little turds on my best days, let alone when I'm non-caffeinated, hangry and having sugar and Coke withdrawals. Not pretty. This is when I would normally reach for a Macca's coffee frappe with it's full cream milk and lashings of whipped cream topped with deliciously rich chocolate fudge sauce to calm me down and restore my balance. Nope. Not this time. I had to stew in my own juices (crap - why does anger get to have a foodie idiom but I can't angry-eat?)
I was surprised that by dinner time I didn't feel all that hungry. But I realised, as I got things ready to make Grace's favourite chicken quesadillas, just how mindful I have been in the past four long long days. I'm actually noticing just how much I ate without thinking about eating. It was so automatic. So tonight, as the smells of roast chicken begged for me to eat it's skin while shredding it for the meal, I asked Timbo (the hubby) to step up and do it for me. I can't be trusted. Or maybe I can, but I want to eliminate the possibility of being weak anyway.
Eyes on the prize, Lisa. Eyes on the prize.
Day FiveI am so so so so fucking hungry this morning.
I will not give in to Froot Loop cravings.
I will not make butter and vegemite with a bit of toast.
I love my diet shake.
I love my diet shake.
I love my diet shake.
Fuck I'm hungry.
I started hypnotherapy for mind-shifting for weight loss today. It turns out one of the loveliest people I have met in the school yard this year is a hypnotherapist. I thought I'd give it a go. It's probably the only thing I haven't tried before for weight loss. I had a one hour session booked, starting at 11am.
I cried. I laughed. I listened. I remembered. I went to my 'happy place' which was not of me drunk at an island bar with Bradley Cooper and not a child in sight. For a change.
My mind had me sit on the warm soft sand at the beach, just watching and listening to the waves crash in on the sand bar, and a seagull occasionally squawking in the distance. The water was so clear and blue. I saw my reflection in a mirror and changed its appearance to how I want to see myself in the near future. I was smiling.
At 2:30pm, we finished for the day.
I can't begin to tell you just how amazing I felt after that. Just awesome.
Day SixI'm still riding the hypno-ride from yesterday.
I feel great. Headaches are gone! Huzzah!
Being around my perpetually hungry family (not much difference between satisfying 5 year olds going through growth spurts than a 15 year old boy who eats like Zac Efron in the movie 17 Again) wasn't much of a problem today. I still have to remind myself not to lick a spoon of Nutella from the jar (erm...how'd that get in there anyway?) or nibble the bits of food from the kids' plates, but I'm stepping away empty handed. Today, I'm rocking this shit.
Could murder a bottle of Moscato, though.
Day SevenWeek One down and what have I learned?
- I haven't had an antihistamine in four days for itchy skin.
- My skin is starting to look a bit better.
- My boobs aren't resting on a table of stomach already.
- I am considerably less bloated.
- I'm not tired. In fact, I was so tired all the time before I started this.
- My tummy still growls (oh how it growls) but instead of reaching for some Reese's Pieces in all their delicious crunchy peanut buttery evilness I've been grabbing a stick of celery and a glass of water. WTF??
- I'm smiling more already.
Week Two is coming and I'm gonna crank that shit up to eleven. Bring it on!
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