Today is the third day of my self-imposed…um…lifestyle change?  Recharge?  Reboot?  Whatever.  I weighed myself this morning just to see what was going on, but it’s hard to tell.  My meds are messing with my system, and, um, slowing me down quite a bit.  It’s been days, people, days.  (get used to TMI, by the way…I have no problem sharing!)  That being said, I’m pretty proud of myself that I’ve stuck with such healthy meals (I know, I know, it’s only been three days, but with the way life has gotten, three days in a row of NOT emotional eating is amazing!)  I’ve been right at or a smidge below 1500 calories each day – dinner tonight sucked, though.

See, I forgot my daughter’s school was having a Spirit Night, and one of the big draws was FREE gently used uniforms.  I already shelled out the bucks for a full uniform and new shoes and what-not, but got the bare minimum.  The idea that I could maybe get an extra jumper or some shirts (FOR FREE!! OMG!) was very appealing.  Hubby’s not home (as usual…I am a high-school football widow), and the school is about 20 minutes away, and I had time-constraints, what with getting the little guy to bed even close to on time (and dear me, could that be any MORE of a run-on?!) so I ran out of the house instead of feeding the kids or myself.  Wendy’s chicken nuggets were the quickest option for them (I’m not proud), but I did.  Not.  Succumb.  (Ok, I also couldn’t find my debit card in my purse and only had four bucks on me…)  Dinner tonight was brought to you by Larabar.  I’ve never had one before (I usually stick to Luna Bars – chocolate peppermint stick FTW!  AND!!  Did you see Luna now has Chocolate Dipped Coconut?  Must. Find. And. Inhale.)   The Larabar was yummy – I find I’m always drawn to the chocolate protein/energy bars.  For the most part, they taste enough like real chocolate to feel like I’m being decadent, and I don’t feel guilty for having had one.

That being said, I obliterated my carb limit…again.  I have GOT to figure out substitutes.  My low-carb buddy mentioned Dreamfields Pastas, which are great for diabetics.  According to their site, “our healthy pasta recipe has fewer digestible carbs, about the same high fiber as whole wheat pasta, and it can help you manage your blood sugar.”  Pasta without the carb overload?  THANK YOU!  My friend says it tastes just like regular pasta, so I’m looking forward to trying it out.  In the meantime, I need to find different snacks or sides or something to help limit the damned carbs!

Found this article today through this site.  This is definitely something I want to weigh-in on (har har…pun intended, of course!), as well as what they’re doing over at Pigtail Pals.  I think this topic would be a good one for tomorrow!

“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” -e.e. cummings


You say “to-may-to”, I say “realist.”

First of all, yes, I’ve changed the name of the blog (well, the URL of the blog, I’m still trying to figure out how to change that “fatanddepressed” tag at the top. Anybody? Bueller?) Yes, I’m fat and yes, I’m depressed, but I felt even MORE depressed with that blog name…and I’m not going to be fat or depressed forever, right?!

That leads me to the real point of today’s post: pessimism. I’m not an optimistic person…never have been. If something can go wrong, it will go wrong. I don’t necessarily consider myself a pessimist, per se – more of a realist. But there are definitely times, especially during the dark days when depression hits me the worst (as I used to call them before I realized I was suffering from depression again, “Very Bad Days.” The caps were implied, but hubby got it), where I can be pessimistic with the best of them. And I admit that I tend to wallow in it, too – like I need the drama!

I’m making a promise to myself and to you that I will try not to wallow. Yes, there will be some negativity – purging is sometimes a good thing – but I will do my level best to not make this blog strictly “Amanda’s Bitching Space.” I mean, it’ll hopefully be bitchin’ (harhar) but not a constant bitchfest. I think a person can train herself to be more optimistic, even if she’s naturally not – and I hope to be able to do that in this space. Wow – a lot riding on this little blog o’ mine, huh?

Got back to my therapist today for the first time in almost a month (between my trip to FL and an event on her calendar, we just couldn’t get together). It was very nice to get back to talking to her, because there have been more bad days than good days the past few weeks. Today felt a bit like a reboot, and I could totally use that.

On the weight-loss front, today is day #2 of me religiously tracking my calories/carbs/fat/protein on DailyBurn. So far I’ve come in around 1500 calories each day, and right around where I need to be for protein and fat. But carbs? Oy. I am trying to limit my carbs, and at first put my daily limit at 100-125 grams a day. Um, and blew it out of the water the first day. So, I raised it to 150, and I came in just a smidge over. But I don’t think 150 is too great, either. I will try to limit them even more in the future, but I think right now, with the fact that I’m tracking again for the first time in a long time (well, almost ever), I can cut myself some slack as I learn how to make changes in my daily diet to cut more out. I’m not going no-carb, no way no how! I love me some carbs, and feel totally crappy when I get none.

“A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.” Winston Churchill

This is it.

Breaking point. This is the breaking point. I will be 35 in less than 3 months. I have spent my entire adult life (and some of my teen years) overweight. At my heaviest, I was 246 pounds at 5’9”. I got pregnant with my son at that weight, and thanks to 7.5 months of morning sickness, went in to deliver him at that weight (ha ha, never thought morning sickness would be a GOOD thing!) I came home 12 pounds lighter, lost about another 6-8 just being exhausted, wrangling two kids, and breastfeeding like a fiend. I decided that THAT was it – it was a complete turnaround on my outlook, on my mental state. I’d been given a gift from the universe – a pregnancy where I didn’t gain any weight, and came home lighter than I’d been in years (but still, at 234, not anywhere near healthy). I was careful, eating more conscientiously, not depriving myself, pretty comfortable with the way things were going. I got down to about 225 and stayed within a few pounds of that for months.

It’s funny, I’m not a New Year’s Resolution kinda gal, but I always seem to start off the new year with some type of activity I don’t normally undertake. So I started going to the fitness center at my job, using the elliptical to work out without blowing out my knees (crappy, crappy knees). Slowly lost some more weight, and decided I wanted to be a runner. I hit the treadmill and quickly worked myself up to running anywhere from 1-3 miles a day, 4 days a week.

But depression is a sneaky bitch, and I started feeling more and more fatigued as spring rolled around. It became a struggle to run even a mile, and my hopes of running a spring or early 5K were dashed. I gained 5 pounds out of nowhere between May 1 and June 1, and pretty much gave up. I was so exhausted all the time, and started getting more and more irrationally emotional. It took me a good year to finally listen to my husband and my new best friend and seek help. Therapy has been helping, antidepressants have been helping even more. The depression is not necessarily something I can change quickly, but the weight is something that I CAN change. But I’m sick.

Sick of being uncomfortable in my own skin.

Sick of feeling like shit.

Sick of the sweat under my boobs, or in my fat rolls.

Sick of aching knees.

Sick of finding no cute clothes in my size, and sick of paying more for clothes because of my size.

Sick of having to knit and knit and knit to finish a sweater that a skinnier me would finish more quickly.

Sick of having no energy.

Sick of having no self-esteem.

Sick of hating myself so much.

So things are going to change.