I am fucking starving. Well, not really starving. Not starving children of Africa, haven’t eaten in days kind of starving, I mean coming down from the addictive nature of sugar and carbohydrate comas and I’m staring at the tv and I just want to eat chocolate, ice cream and crackers kind of starving. I’ve had a cup of tea, several of them actually, a big drink of water, I’ve trawled Pinterest, Facebook and Instagram but found myself searching hashtags like #snacks #dessert #yum and then staring at the skinny people of the world eating pies of all sorts.
I am assuming they are skinny because there is one thing that fat people don’t do and that is we don’t post pictures of ourselves on social media eating pie or cream laced cake. You might see it in front of us – but you won’t see it lift close to our face. Unless we are in another country or it’s our birthday. They are the only exceptions. You think skinny people have the monopoly on ‘do you really think you should be eating that?’ No, they don’t. You see fat people know they are fat. They have mirrors and most of us look into them everyday. We know that every calorie, every drop of sugar, fat, carbohydrate (and whatever other buzz food is the source of our problems) is bad for us. You telling me it’s bad for me is not actually a way to help me stop eating it.
The skinny people and the doctors arm themselves with phrases like ‘it’s just one’, ‘you don’t have to eat it all’, ‘it’s a treat – you have to moderate.’ No. We can’t eat the fucking cake, not even a little bit. You see we haven’t eaten cake in ages and that one little lick will turn us into that dog that shoves his head in the bowl and has stuff all over his face. And nobody wants to see that.
I need to lose weight? Really? Shit, I thought that size ten woman looking at me in the mirror every morning was actually my real reflection not the cut out of Cleo magazine with my head on it. I’ll get on that tomorrow doc and I’m sure it’ll be all cleared up by next week. Fatness, absolutely it’s like a runny nose and a suspicious rash. A little bit of cream and tomorrow I’m sure it’ll be right as rain.
I have been in the middle of a lifestyle change for three years now. Three years I’ve restricted, refocused, trained and reimagined a healthier life for myself. And guess what, I’m still not skinny. My fat hasn’t cleared up like a nasal drip and that picture on the mirror, it still isn’t me. I fall off the wagon but I get back on it just as many times. I spend time investing in and planning for my health and then sometimes I eat a Twix on the way home from the supermarket. But right now the calorie restriction is hard core. It’s down to ridiculously low levels to lose a few kilos particularly quickly and people, I am starving.
For three years I have eaten protein, greens, eggs and lots of other good things that keep me full and not hungry. And now for a few weeks the good stuff is replaced by shakes and a low calorie diet and no wonder people are miserable. I’m not yet hangry but if I’m not careful I can see myself falling that way. Lucky that shopping is free and I have all holidays to be outside and avoiding the pantry. (Not that there’s anything in it.) Pretty soon I’m going to be just like Oliver – prancing around the house singing ‘food glorious food’ – it’ll be awesome. I’ll be the fattest orphan ever. Cup of tea anyone?
life in big frilly knickers 