I really thought I’d never be someone who would have an upswing on their weight loss journey. I was all like ‘it’s too easy to eat well now!’ ‘I’m never going back to eating like shit!’ ‘I feel so good, why would I fuck this up!’. Past me, you absolute fool!
I moved back in with my Mum 14 weeks ago because covid, quarantine, you get it. We’ve been keeping each other company through this whole thing, and yeah, it’s generally been nice to be around my family all the time again, but goddamn. The food here. THE FOOD HERE.
I’ve written on here previously about how it is basically impossible to eat my regular diet while living with my mum. Mostly that ‘one portion’ (more like 3!!) of her dinners is always like 1000 calories. Combine that with me having a lot of time to hone in my baking skills and sitting at my regular 1200 is ROUGH.
I can OMAD, whatever. The issue is more that she makes shit that is the least satisfying and satiating way to eat 1000 calories. Like, vegetables soaked in butter. Come on!! It makes them taste worse, and there’s an extra 200 calories for no. fucking. reason. Also, I am never eating another bowl of pasta again after I go back to my own house. I never thought I’d actually miss eating a bowl of steamed vegetables for dinner.
I digress. I got so tired of starving myself to fit these ridiculous meals in my schedule, so tired of worrying about calories, so tired of not being able to drink, so tired of this whole situation that I just gave up for a month. And then another month. And then another.
I’ve gained like, 18lb back. My self esteem is probably the worst it has ever been, and that is really saying something. I feel ashamed, I can’t look at myself in the mirror. I feel like I’m killing myself with every bite but for some goddamn reason I can’t get myself to stop.
I know that the second I go back to living alone and having control of my diet, I’ll be fine, I’ll lose it all again. But that won’t be anytime soon. My town is now locked up for another month and I’ll be working from home for 8+ more weeks at a minimum. I’m trapped here.
My motivation is gone. My good habits are gone. It’s my own fault. I’m annoyed as hell about it. I want to go back to losing but there has never been a more monumental task.
My one year anniversary is this week. And I’m right back where I started.
Sorry for the rant. I think if someone who isn’t my stupid no-self-control brain tells me off, it might help. Please slap some sense into me.
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