I have so much to tell you all, my head is literally exploding with thoughts right now. I'm just going to let you have it, and hopefully it will make some sort of sense.
Ok, first of all, I weighed in this week (or should I say last week!? My bad!) at 12st 12lbs - the same as for the previous two weeks. This was absolutely fine by me, because I hadn't tracked or pointed at all for most of the week. I just ate what was there/easy to make/I felt like. Blame it on impending deadlines and hormones and the pang of rejection...
I'm joking about that last one. Sort of.
Anyway. Stayed the same. Fine. I made my usual Wednesday morning pledges about the upcoming week - five gym sessions, plan all my meals, drink lots of water, don't waste your points on sweets and chocolate.
This lasted until precisely 7pm that evening when I decided to go out. I really shouldn't have bothered. I should have stayed home and worked on my essays. I was guilted into going out by my housemate because it was his 'birthday'. Which it wasn't, by the way. And anyway, its not my fault that he doesn't get to celebrate his birthday at uni. Its his stupid fault for having a birthday during the Easter holidays. Idiot.
....where was I? Oh yes.
Well I had a horrendous night on Wednesday. For starters I got way too drunk. And I just spent the whole night feeling HUGE. Not just fat, but physically massive in height as well. I was wearing heels, as is the usual, but so was everybody else so its not even like I can blame it on that. The trouble is is that with one exception (the gorgeous Sophie) all my friends - and I use the term 'friend' very loosely in this instance - are in the region of 5'4-5'6. At 5'11 I tower over them. I'm taller than them when I'm in flats and they're in heels. And I know that it shouldn't be an issue, that I should be proud of my height and my long legs and so on, but I'm just not. I'm painfully self-conscious of having my photo taken, particularly with boys, because I just look ridiculous. And its really not fair because my mum is 5'4 and my dad is 5'10 and I'm taller than both of them! If I didn't look so much like my old man I would be inclined to believe that I am the milkman's baby. Alas, two peas in a pod.
Being a lanky cow isn't the only reason I had a rubbish night. There were a few snide comments made my aforementioned 'friend', plus drunken words with other 'friends' were had, and then aforementioned 'rejection' (God, WOE IS ME right. Throwing my own little pity party here). The whole thing was just a mess. An essay on Ulysses would have been the better way to spend an evening.
Getting back to my story - my bad mood from Wednesday night snowballed and I was in a foul mood on Thursday. I managed to hold myself together just long enough to get home to Essex (Hurrah Easter Holidays!) and then I had some kind of nervous breakdown. I think the fact that I had managed to maintain my weight the week before kind of blended into my shit mood and made me want to eat everything in sight. Thursday night wasn't too bad, but from Friday onwards its been like I've been on a one-woman mission to eat the whole of Essex. I spent all day Friday at home eating rubbish food, and the best thing was I had the perfect excuse.
'I have to eat this because Mum hasn't been shopping and we haven't anything 'Weight Watchers friendly' in the house.'
Yeah ok fatty, you keep telling yourself that as you shovel cheese sandwiches into your mouth and eat Nutella straight from the jar. On Friday evening we went to my Auntie's house. It was her birthday and she had laid on 'picky bits' - spring rolls and samosas, crisps and dips, some salad, cupcakes, plus birthday cake of course. So I ate more than my fair share there as well. But it doesn't stop there! Earlier in the evening my mum had made a big batch of Chilli Con Carne, and when we got home she made a heaving plate of Chilli Nachos with salsa, sour cream, guacemole and mountains of cheese - the whole bit. So of course I had to eat that as well. BUT IT DOESN'T STOP THERE EITHER. I then washed the whole lot down with half an Easter egg. And the only reason I didn't eat the whole egg (and the Creme Eggs that came with it) was because I was tired and had to get up for work the next morning.
Yesterday was no better. In fact it was probably worse, because I had to go to work and see people I haven't seen in seven months, and they were all so complimentary and said I looked amazing, I'd done so well, and so on...and I just felt like a massive fraud. To ease my feelings of guilt I carried on eating. And then I did the same today.
You guys, I haven't binged like this in a really long time. My Mum's scales say I've put on upwards of 4.5lbs - in four days. Thats disgusting. I mean, that is really really grim. I just went into self-destruct mode. I wasn't eating because it was sociable to do so, or because I was hungry...I was eating for the sake of eating. I made a conscious decision to eat until I felt ill, and that's exactly what I did. And I paid the price with a 4.5lb gain.
As of tomorrow I am back in control - 100%. I wasn't planning to go to any Weight Watchers meetings over the Easter holidays, instead weighing myself at home every Wednesday morning, but I just don't think I have that kind of strength at the moment so I will be going back to meetings. I'm also going to start 'fessing up to what I'm actually putting in my mouth by Tweeting it, or publishing it on here. #TweetWhatYouEat from @LessOfLauren, and keep your eyes out on here for foodie posts.
(This post is getting long now, sorry.)
It is extra important that I get back in control now, because exciting things are happening on Tuesday! After some very exciting Tweets and emails over the last couple of weeks, I have been asked to take part in a feature in The Sun newspaper!! A lovely freelance journalist called Laura is doing a piece on several women aged 20 to 40 who all have inspirational weight loss stories - AND I'M ONE OF THEM. The photo- shoot for the piece is this Tuesday (I know right, couldn't think of a worse time to go on a massive self-pitying food binge) and there will be hair and make-up artists and a fashion stylist!! They're going to dress me! I am so excited. It kind of didn't dawn on me what a big deal it was until I was talking about it earlier to my mum and her friend, and also after thinking about some of the reactions I've had at work over the last couple of days. As much as I love my housemates, they have kind of worn me down into the mindset of 'it doesn't really matter' and 'its not a big deal'. Apparently I talk about Weight Watchers too much, and saying that it works and that I'm proof is a 'douche-bag comment'. Its kind of wearing when the biggest thing you have ever achieved, or will ever achieve, is belittled by those who see you every day. Its hard to summon up the proper enthusiasm for losing 1lb when the response at home is 'should have done a poo before you got weighed, then you would have lost 2lb'. I don't think they mean it nastily, but I think because they are a) boys and b) have never really struggled with their weight, they don't really see it as a big deal. After being home for a couple of days and being complimented and praised and asked for advice its kind of coming back to me how much of a big deal this really is. Its changed my life. Its given me two best friends who I absolutely adore and who I wouldn't be without. Its let me be me again. I often get some very odd looks when I say that Weight Watchers is more important than my degree, but really Weight Watchers is more important than everything. When it really comes down to it, Weight Watchers is everything. If it weren't for Weight Watchers and the wonderful support of my leader Jen and my meeting and my closest friends - especially Emma, Liz, Rosie and Caitlan - then I wouldn't have been able to do my degree in the first place. I would have been long gone from uni and without dwelling too much on things that don't bare thinking about, I probably would have been dead by 35. Shudder. I don't like saying that, but its true. Thats the way I was heading. So yes, Weight Watchers is more important than uni, and everything else for that matter. And there is absolutely no reason why I shouldn't make the most of my achievement and let the world see how hard I've worked. Ok, so its an article in the Women's section of The Sun - the paper world-renown for having barely-adult girls flashing their tits on the opening page. But fuck it, who cares. Its a fucking big deal.
Ok, yeah, so there you have it...a stream-of-consciousness blog post that James Joyce would be proud to call his own. (I hate that man and everything he stands for. Ulysses is the actual bane of my existence.) I'm sorry this post doesn't make more sense, or that is doesn't have lots of pretty/hilarious pictures to break up the huge outpouring of random thoughts. I kind of let my hands start typing just to see where it went. I'm glad I did. I feel better for having confessed about the binge eating and everything else. Sometimes it just feels so good to let it all out. Kind of like having a good cry, except without the puffy eyes and snotty nose and implied weakness/patheticness. (In case you hadn't noticed, I don't like criers. Especially male criers. Come on lads, get a grip!)
I'm going to go now, before I bore you all to death with more non-sensical ramblings. Sorry again for the mental post, I promise to be back with happy news soon - and I will be keeping twitter updated with the progress of the photo-shoot on Tuesday, SO FOLLOW ME. @LessOfLauren. Do it. Now.
Hope everyone is having a wonderful Easter weekend!
Lots of love