Ok, so I don't really like carbs. It's not even the whole carb myth thing that bothers me because after working with my dietician that doesn't scare me so much now. I just don't like complex carbs...rice, pasta, etc. I don't like the taste or texture. I'm ok with toast but I don't particularly like sandwiches so I rarely eat bread. And I can never be bothered to cook potatoes so unless I go home and my mum cooks them for me I don't have them. The main things I will have is porridge, cereal or maybe a bagel sometimes for breakfast.
My dietician put me on a diet plan over a year ago that involved eating more carbs in a way that I wouldn't gain weight. I tried it and infact lost weight but didn't stick to it as well as I should purely because of my dislike for those foods.
However, when I came back to uni in september I started to eat a lot more carbs. I was more relaxed around food and wanted to eat bigger meals because I needed the energy so I started eating more carbs. Again I found I lost weight. My exercise had increased because I was back at uni and study dance so it could partly be due to that but even so if my calories were increased I would have only expected my weight to remain the same. In the past month however I have had less carbs and my weight has been fluctuating all over the place.
Complex carbs are an important part of our everyday diet (I will do a separate post on this another time). I know I should be eating more of them. I am also interested to see if eating carbs continues to stabilize my weight in the way it has in the past or even cause weight loss as my dietician always seemed to think it was possible and so far he has proved to be right.
At the weekend I bought a recipe book with ideas for carbs so that I can find recipes I actually enjoy to make me want to eat carbs. Every day this week I am trying to have complex carbs of some form other than at breakfast. Saturday - Rice, Sunday - Bread, Today - Rice. I shall continue for the week to see how it affects me and hopefully start to enjoy carbs. I shall let you know what happens!
Jasmin x
Showing posts with label weight. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weight. Show all posts
Monday, 8 November 2010
Wednesday, 4 August 2010
This week..not easy.
I look in the mirror, and all I can see is a blob. An untoned, wobbly body of unworthiness. I am filled with shame and disgust as I look at myself, as I sit and feel my stomach roll over my trousers, as I walk and feel the insides of my legs rub together, as I moisturise and feel the handfuls of fat on me. How could I let myself get like this? Gain weight to recover..yes...let myself get to an in excusable point defined by greediness and lack of will power...no.
Every day now I hear those voices...don’t eat, it’s the only way. Think of how you could look. Think of how good you’ll feel. And all it takes is the control and power to starve. I can do that. I’ve done it before. And yet every morning I wake up with those programmed thoughts that I need to eat and to stay healthy. I know that’s the right thing to do but then I just beat myself up about it even more afterwards and the cycle of telling myself not to eat starts again. I feel like I’ve lost that power and I’m trapped in this body. Do I want to relapse? Of course not but I feel like I have no choice. I’ve tried to eat healthily. Not just for a couple of days before deciding it wasn’t working but for months and my weight hasn’t budged.
The hardest thing...I don’t even know if what I see is real. Is that really what my body looks like or is it just a distortion. I know my mind likes to do that but it’s an answer I will never know.
I hate that I’m still too afraid to wear what I want...to go swimming, to allow people to see my body. Can I eat now...yes. Do I fear food as much...no. But does it still have power over my life...yes and I can’t live in this constant war anymore. I’m so scared and confused and I don’t know what to do. This should be easy, stay focused on recovery, don’t let myself fall and yet the more I think that the more I hate myself for being too weak to lose weight.
Do I like the idea of skin and bones...no. But I can’t live with the way my body feels. And that will only go if my body goes.
I hate going out with my friends and feeling like the fat one. I hate the fact I cannot be in a relationship because the thought of someone touching my body makes me feel sick. I hate that I cannot have a relaxing bath because all I can feel is my body. But what do I hate the most about it all...the feelings I get every time I think about relapsing and then stopping to see my friends and family’s faces. The feelings I get every time I think about how good they were to me and what I’d be putting them through. I have two fears...having to live with my body like this and putting my friends and family through a relapse. I cannot escape one fear without having to face the other. I once noticed through a kind of experiment with my psychologist that if I listened to the thoughts initiated by feelings such as the above I get a feeling in my chest. The thought of those fears each make my heart feel like it’s being twisted and tied into a knot. It’s a physical pain there constantly to remind me of the fear I’ll be living with if I try to run with the other. That makes me stop in my tracks and question what I’m doing. Sometimes I wish I could just make a decision and stick with it, even if it was the wrong one. The pain can’t be any worse than living with this fight.
I think of my mum and dad and that knot is pulled 100 times tighter. It is the most unbearable pain to think of putting them through it. I know I blame them sometimes and want nothing to do with them but they’re my mum and dad and I know they don’t mean to make me feel how I do and I couldn’t forgive myself for making them worry all over again.
Am I scared of hurting myself...no. I’m scared of letting everyone else down. I’m scared of having to admit I don’t have the strength and courage I thought I did and losing those reasons to like myself because I’ve worked so hard to like myself for those things.
Every day now I hear those voices...don’t eat, it’s the only way. Think of how you could look. Think of how good you’ll feel. And all it takes is the control and power to starve. I can do that. I’ve done it before. And yet every morning I wake up with those programmed thoughts that I need to eat and to stay healthy. I know that’s the right thing to do but then I just beat myself up about it even more afterwards and the cycle of telling myself not to eat starts again. I feel like I’ve lost that power and I’m trapped in this body. Do I want to relapse? Of course not but I feel like I have no choice. I’ve tried to eat healthily. Not just for a couple of days before deciding it wasn’t working but for months and my weight hasn’t budged.
The hardest thing...I don’t even know if what I see is real. Is that really what my body looks like or is it just a distortion. I know my mind likes to do that but it’s an answer I will never know.
I hate that I’m still too afraid to wear what I want...to go swimming, to allow people to see my body. Can I eat now...yes. Do I fear food as much...no. But does it still have power over my life...yes and I can’t live in this constant war anymore. I’m so scared and confused and I don’t know what to do. This should be easy, stay focused on recovery, don’t let myself fall and yet the more I think that the more I hate myself for being too weak to lose weight.
Do I like the idea of skin and bones...no. But I can’t live with the way my body feels. And that will only go if my body goes.
I hate going out with my friends and feeling like the fat one. I hate the fact I cannot be in a relationship because the thought of someone touching my body makes me feel sick. I hate that I cannot have a relaxing bath because all I can feel is my body. But what do I hate the most about it all...the feelings I get every time I think about relapsing and then stopping to see my friends and family’s faces. The feelings I get every time I think about how good they were to me and what I’d be putting them through. I have two fears...having to live with my body like this and putting my friends and family through a relapse. I cannot escape one fear without having to face the other. I once noticed through a kind of experiment with my psychologist that if I listened to the thoughts initiated by feelings such as the above I get a feeling in my chest. The thought of those fears each make my heart feel like it’s being twisted and tied into a knot. It’s a physical pain there constantly to remind me of the fear I’ll be living with if I try to run with the other. That makes me stop in my tracks and question what I’m doing. Sometimes I wish I could just make a decision and stick with it, even if it was the wrong one. The pain can’t be any worse than living with this fight.
I think of my mum and dad and that knot is pulled 100 times tighter. It is the most unbearable pain to think of putting them through it. I know I blame them sometimes and want nothing to do with them but they’re my mum and dad and I know they don’t mean to make me feel how I do and I couldn’t forgive myself for making them worry all over again.
Am I scared of hurting myself...no. I’m scared of letting everyone else down. I’m scared of having to admit I don’t have the strength and courage I thought I did and losing those reasons to like myself because I’ve worked so hard to like myself for those things.
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