After a whole lot of pissing and moaning (literally, the first part), my body finally broke the 200lb plateau and eased down to 197 yesterday. It was kind of torturous, seeing the scale at 200lbs every day without change. I’m not sure what happens, but it’s like a limit I have to break through every time, like my body detects I’m at exactly at 200lbs and makes me have to work for it.
My ketostix were dark, dark pink today, meaning I am deep into ketosis. Hooray, running off my fat! My husband has pointed out that I check my water retention/fat loss by feeling my stomach. The looser/floppier (phrasing), the better. Eww. Those two sentences are gross, and I am gross. Meh. Guess I’m just gross. I’ve never been proper and appropriate, unless I get paid.
But back to weight loss.
I’ve been able to curb my night time snacking. Sometimes it takes me some time, to turn off the part of my brain going,”Why not have another snack? Why deny yourself? It it so bad?” Or at least to stop listening to it. The siren call of comfort is hard to ignore, especially when you’re feeling weaker.
I’m pretty impressed in the month of May I managed to take off 75% of the 16lbs I managed to put on in April, a month I spent ill with bronchitis and off keto. Four pounds until I reach the weight I was on March 23rd, 193 lbs. Hindsight is a bitch, you know? I thought I was enjoying that month of binging, in the name of aiming to give myself the calories needed to cure viral bronchitis. Now I look back and went, did you really need to eat a pint of ice cream every other night? Order pizza and Chinese delivery thrice a week?
When I’m not on keto, I lose all control of myself. I’ve said here before on this blog that I now understand what a lifestyle change means. It means forever. It means reigning in that carb-binging side of me for the rest of my life. It means, “No, I can’t go to the grocery store or go through Wendy’s drive-thru because I’m feeling bad and crappy, emotionally or physically.” I just have ZERO self control when it comes to carbs, and managing my emotions with carbs. I have to be on a lower carb diet FOR LIFE.
I simply don’t know how to stop, I don’t know what to do when my emotions take a dump. I was taught to suppress my emotions and not acknowledge them. A line I recall, semi-ironically, from the TV show “Daria”: “But at least a chocolate bar never told me I was an accident.” That line was there for laughs.. But it’s too fucking real for me, man. 😐