No wait better yet, I want a freaking cheeseburger with extra pickles, extra mustard, extra bacon with some rooster sauce and fried onions. That sounds amaaaazing right about now. I have one week left of phase 2 of this diet and I went and saw my doctor today for my check up. Her words as she entered the room “Um you are disappearing….”. So what, I was a size 26W in February and today I was wearing a size 16 skirt. It works and I’m not stopping. But so help me if I eat one more meal of lean ground beef and sauteed cabbage with brown mustard I just might rip someone’s eyeball out and eat that instead. I’m not limited to that but honestly it’s quick, easy and my family is repulsed about it so nobody is going to steal it. It has almost been 42 days of this, I have shrunk sizes in clothes and dropped pounds on the scale. Next week I enter phase 3 which is when I increase my calorie intake and can eat other foods for a few weeks. Then I can go into round 2 and start over to lose more weight or go into Life mode which is when I don’t diet but instead enter a healthy balance of eating clean like I am and indulging once in awhile. You better believe I’m going into round 2 and dropping more. I think I might need 1 or 2 more rounds and then I am at my goal weight. Today my vitamins arrived so I will no longer be dragging my butt out of bed in the morning and instead will be go go go go go like I usually am.
I miss eating out. I miss taking a plate of some gooey dessert when offered one. But I also don’t. I don’t miss the guilt and avoiding the mirror because I was ashamed of myself for giving in to the taunting of the frosting. I don’t even like chocolate, why the hell did I eat the damn cookie!!!!!! How did I get like this, I don’t eat a lot, hell I don’t even like junk food. Greasy food keeps me in the bathroom, high carb food pretty much puts me into a food coma and sugary food gives me a headache and then makes me want more and more and more. In fact do I even like to eat? Holy hell I don’t. What is wrong with me? I’m not human am I…..balls. Wait, I’m eating right now. I’m eating broiled red onions and asparagus with flank steak. Doused in spicy brown mustard. 4 oz of steak and a total of 4 oz of the veggies. Mmmmmmm. Maybe I am human.
Now weight loss does not come with it’s lack of emotional challenges. It’s not like everyday I feel more and more sexier and I trot like Donkey from Shrek in front of the mirror singing “I’m Sexy and I know It!”. Oh man I wish, and now I have an idea for my next shower moment…but I digress. I still see me as huge, enormous, chunktastic. I am the queen of Hellman’s Mayo in my eyes and that will not change for a long time. This has happened so fast that I am racing to catch up emotionally. There is no gradual adjustment period where I can slowly see the changes. I get on the scale and BOOM 3 pounds gone, 2 days later my pants are falling off. YAY! It’s amazing when I’ve been trying so hard to lose weight for the past 8 years and nothing has worked. However it is one major mind trip big time. There are times I feel incredibly insecure and I need to be reassured, but how do I ask for that? I mean the past 8 years my husband has told me I was beautiful and perfect the way I was. Obviously either he was fibbing or he needs new glasses because he’s telling me the same thing now. Well honey which is it? I can’t be both, I can’t be perfect and beautiful while obese and perfect and beautiful while becoming thin. WHICH IS IT!? WHY DO YOU LIE TO ME? It’s that tragic moment when you realize that for several years now people have been lying to your face when they told you that you looked pretty or ask if you lost weight when in reality you gained some. Don’t patronize me, I totally see what you were doing there, the fat was in my hips not between my ears love. Now I’m mad. I’m really mad, and pretty damn embarrassed. “Does this make my butt look big?”….instead of saying “no it doesn’t!” a very simple “honey your butt has it’s own gravitational pull” would have sufficed. I can take it!
So back to self esteem. Yesterday my husband gave me a blow that was a slap to the face. It was actually a misunderstanding caused by a stinky cat turd (thanks Tardis) but still I wanted to shrivel up and cry. Before he left for work yesterday afternoon I told him to wake me up when he got home at 3 am. He kind of stared at me trying to figure out why when I winked at him and then he understood what I meant and he winked back and did his manly strut out the door and said “ooooooh, well….I’ll see you boys tomorrow and my lovely wife I shall see you in the morning!” and off to work he went. When he got home he had an ice issue coming in and had to break the ice to get in the front door, ah lovely Vermont weather. He was about to take a shower when he realized our cat Tardis was in the cat box in the bathroom. Now when Tardis uses the box you do not want to go in the room after him, it’s that bad. So what does my husband do instead of just scooping the offending poop out of the box so he can take a shower? He sits down and plays Call of Duty in the living room until he thinks the poop smell has tamed down. Guess what wakes me up, that’s right, the sound of him smashing playstation controller buttons and cursing at the tv. What goes through my head at that moment? “He would rather play a video game than boink his wife….” I almost started to cry, but then I became angry. And then I became devious. Let’s just say I laid on such a thick guilt trip that he suffered through the Tardis stink bomb and came to bed. He explained to me today the deal and all I did was quirk an eyebrow and ask why he didn’t just scoop the poop. Now imagine how I felt, cat poop won over me. CAT CRAP BEAT ME!!!!!! CAT CRAP!!!!! WHAT THE EVER LIVING HELL!!!!! I need to be reassured people. My self esteem took a kick to the teeth. I vote I dump the contents of the litter box into his boots after filling his socks with Vaseline.