Some days are just hungry days. I've been doing very well with food and exercise. Since the day I had my blood drawn, I've lost 9 pounds - a little over a month ago. Now, a few of those pounds had found their way back onto my Rubenesque body in the weeks before, so on My Fitness Pal, it looks like I've lost only 5. But trust me, it's 9 with change, as my digital scale weighs in tenths of pounds. 9.4 to be exact.
I've been trying to stay very low carb, - averaging 35-60 gms per day. If you're comparing that to Atkins Induction, it sounds high. Compare it to my usual diet prior to attacking my Type 2, and it is paltrier than paltry. I'm hearing some comments related to "are you losing....?'", which is nice, of course. I'm in pants I couldn't wear at all, and just bought a couple new cheap pairs at Kohl's in a smaller size. It's all good. Yes?
What is happening is what frequently has happened in the past when I began successfully changing things up and dropping weight. My head is getting squirrely. Specifically my thinking. Like squirrels are literally running around up there messing up my circuitry. I'm wanting to restrict eating to "move this along", but know that is wrong with a capital WRONG. Or, I want to have a free day and "get back on" tomorrow. Or go lower on carbs. Or give this whole thing up. Or fast for a day. Lots of highly intelligent thoughts, si? And as an addict of the first order, I know this is where the dysfunction and disordered eating is percolating - tapping my shoulder and trying to woo me over to the dark side. As in chocolate (preferably not that dark!) and assorted edibles over which I'm truly powerless once they enter into my mouth.
This is like early sobriety when things being settling down, and one is starting to feel much better, and beginning to believe that "maybe I can do this". And then the thought of a
There are some differences this time. My blood sugar meter is with me most of the time, and when I've had an occasion off-plan indulgence, I check my sugar to see just what the "treat" afforded me in terms of screwing with my sugar. Seeing a high blood sugar is a lot more concrete and hard core than just wishing I hadn't just eaten whatever it was I ate. It's like, reality, man! More than that, by some miracle, I'm willing to check the number, rather than just be afraid of it. That is still amazing to me. Somehow, I now get that the number is what it is or (as I've paraphrased) it ALREADY is what it is and not knowing doesn't change it or make it go down.
I feel that I am present in the arena with the type 2 now, and I'm not going to let it betray me, beat me and erode my health. I'm not fighting and invisible unknown enemy - I am able to monitor its whereabouts and take action to beat it back. This has become more about Type 2 diabetes than losing weight, oddly enough. The glucometer doesn't lie. Sometimes the scale does, or gives me numbers that I can explain away by recalling a salty meal, being bloated, etc. All the retained water in the world is not going to change my blood sugar. And being faithful in using the meter and getting the blood sugar down is so far affecting my weight. So far, so good.
My eating disordered mind still scares me. I can't suddenly ignore it, or the voices it generates will eventually lure me back to disordered eating. But I feel I have more tools now to stand up to my crazy ass mind.
This probably sounds like gobbledy gook, but it makes sense to me. And even moreso as I sit here and write about it. I had no intention of posting today, but as my hunger was roiling and I was contemplating eating something I'd regret, it seemed a good idea to write about it. And believe it or not, I feel better for now.
Lastly, I can't say how wonderful it feels to wake up without regret in the morning. This was an early reward in sobriety for me, and now with my diabetes journey to this point. Absence of remorse on a daily basis is a great way to start each day.