TW for food/weight issues.
So, it takes about six to eight weeks before physical changes in the body become apparent. As such, I freaked out about my weight toward the end of December, and now it is the end of February. At around New Year’s, I weighed 120 pounds (approx 54 kg) and I checked in yesterday at 112 lbs (about 50.8 kg) totally naked with an empty stomach. Speaking of empty stomachs, I need to heat up this burger because I forget to eat a lot.
*Jeopardy music plays*
Anyway, on the way from my clothes to the shower, I noticed yesterday that the unwelcome fatty-ness on my tummy, hips, and thighs has abated. Which it damn well should, having lost 8 pounds since the beginning of the year. I’m much more pleased with my reflection, happy about the bit of muscle I’ve gained, and very disturbed by the manner in which I lost this weight.
I wasn’t. According to the website I was tracking this on, my activity level (being that I work 40 hours a week) gives me a daily allowance of 2400 calories if I want to maintain my weight.
I think the most I ever recorded was 1400.
This wasn’t entirely intentional, actually it would be more accurate to say that it was barely intentional. We don’t buy our own food most of the time unless we specifically want something, so I’m often at the mercy of whatever they have in the kitchen upstairs. And being that my kitchen is ill-equipped (read: not equipped) for cooking and I rarely desire to use their kitchen to cook, I’m typically left with things that can be grabbed and consumed or popped in the microwave. This cuts down the available food options by a lot.
Much of the reason I had gained fat in the first place was that I wasn’t paying attention to my consumption. I’d do something like grab a sleeve of crackers and eat all of them without meaning to. Putting a stop to those behaviours drastically reduced my calorie intake–because we all know delicious, buttery Ritz crackers are full of useless, refined grain carbs.
While putting a stop to things like that, I increased the amount of fruits and veggies I was getting. Many a plant do not have very many calories, so while I was getting more nutrients, I was not getting enough calories by far.
At some point fairly shortly into this obsessive tracking, I figured I had a much better idea of what food items contain how many calories, so I stopped recording. This was probably a bad idea.
I still wasn’t eating enough. So my stomach was is smaller. So even when I wanted to eat a lot, I couldn’t. This is still going on. Couple that with the appetite-suppressant quality of my antidepressant and my daily caffeine intake and you have a recipe for a person who eats probably less than 1000 calories a day on average because they don’t feel hunger.
At this point, it’s not intentional. It hasn’t been for at least the majority of February. I don’t mean to be depriving myself so much. It’s working in terms of bringing my body back to an acceptable place, but it’s probably too much of not enough and a detriment to my health in general.
Which brings us to yesterday. “Yesterday” starts for me at about 9pm Saturday night. I worked until 6 Sunday morning. I don’t remember what I ate, but it was apparently enough to have me in a good mood and hyper by the time I was ready to go home.
At about 11am I realized I was very hungry and that I hadn’t eaten in a long time. I went to order a pizza and realized midway through putting my online order together that neither of us had cash. I was immediately deflated and defeated, knowing there was not much in the kitchen. I cried. I was in pain and weak and bleary-eyed with the lack of sustenance and the easy solution had been pulled out from under me. I didn’t feel up to going to the ATM, which would have defeated the purpose anyway.
I ended up eating a hot dog. I was crying while preparing it. I didn’t end up fully recovering until I was lying in bed at 3pm texting a dear friend who somehow understands my brain.
That burger I heated up earlier? I got about halfway through and the rest is sitting there. I can eat half a burger and then I almost can’t eat any more. In a moment, I’ll stick it back in the microwave and attempt to finish it. It might make me gag–that happens when I try to make myself eat when I’m not hungry.
Today I have had a nice blueberry muffin, about half a potato’s worth of homemade fries, and half of this mediumish sized burger.
Once again, it isn’t intentional starvation. There are generally almost enough calories going in to cover the basal metabolic stuff, and my body has been leeching the rest from my fat. However, I need to slowly increase my intake so I can eventually even out and then begin gaining weight in the form of muscle.
I suppose this has sounded more and more depressed and serious and upset as it’s gone on. That’s not the kind of mood I’m in, I just recognize the gravity this kind of behaviour holds. I have to start eating more. I have to regulate my food intake, the amount of sleep I’m getting, and so many other things to be able to handle my depression. So far I’m doing pretty poorly.
But, I will make an effort to buy foods that I’ll eat. I’ll continue drinking plenty of water to fuel my many cells and stimulate my appetite. The more I eat, the more I’ll be able to eat and perhaps I’ll even start to feel hungry on a normal basis.
I’m still extremely pleased with the improvement in my appearance, just disappointed in myself for letting such drastic things happen to achieve that goal. Yes, one has to intake fewer calories than one burns to be able to lose fat, but these ratios are unacceptable.
Someone bring me some weed, I could really use the munchies right now.