So it pains me that most of the most read posts are about trauma related to dieting. Weight loss wars and deprivation oaths, mantras and motives bordering tightly on the insane. Calories and Carbs: Criminal Intent.
My scale aptly named Goal by the soccer-addicted vile ex, has of late been throwing his weight around (no pun intended) spewing out numbers lilke a census dry run. It tries without an ounce of luck to motivate me to go to the place of my youth, and I am reminded that some places are better left in the past. I acknowledge that there is a fine line (milligrams) between love and hate and I have to ask: Do I really need to??? Give up the good stuff, the rich, creamy, delicious reminders of a childhood with custard, ice cream and veggies mashed with nutmeg, cinnamon, sugar and butter.
"I am not prepared to be a LO -OO- SS -- ERRRR!" I screech at the stupid instrument of torture who is lower on my techno-foodchain for not being battery-operated. This fact has always filled me with trepidation as I've often wondered how a scale can be so emotionally stable. I mean a decimal point on its otherwise blank face can mean the difference between a good day and a sordid life, between tight leather leggings and the PMS Marquee-esque floral top that covers all sins. But NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, no remorse, no GPS-type recalculating, recalculating. It is what it is, and whilst I bravely confront it, hands on ample everything, it does force me take stock (mostly reducing cargo) every morning.
"I am not prepared to become a Statistic" was my December mince-pie-and-trifle mantra, and I did well until I hit the first party and everyone, boys included, were on about how we would get it right in January! Talk about living in the moment. Some begrudgingly dished a second spoon of dessert and the ones that were kinda all-or-none languished as all the visuals surely came with a security warning in invisible ink of course. I accept that many things only materialise in consciousness IN HINDSIGHT when we are ready to access the lesson. Unfortunately, in metabolic terms that's about the time I've gained 30kg, put up with too much nonsense, probably dabbled in a very unsavoury relationship, made a very slow turn at death's door, being sent from the pearly gates with 1 unticked box, and with a be-HIND-that was a SIGHT for sore eyes.
Hence the love-hate power struggle Goal and I have been engaged in since the day the vile ex brought him home, wrapped and bowed not unlike a special gift. BUT since vile ex didn't believe in gift buying or sharing anything in broad terms, it was more paranoia than pride as I unwrapped the "something special that will remind you of your passion, drive and determination". And so I often have recurring thoughts of strangling said vile ex (let' call him Trey) with that red bow and driving him most determinedly and with passion into the sea. Oops, this is Jozi, no such romance this side.
Then again, Goal is not a nag. In fact, for most of the day he doesn't say anything, and I can't read his expression from a few feet away. But as soon as I touch him with my little toe and I hear the venom and revenge gears being ground, I can see him scrolling for the "Worst Number" sequence and in no time at all I am beside myself. Ja, OK, looks and feels as if there are two of us, but whose side are you on anyway?
I have 4 days left before I get the verdict of the state of my health, and no prizes for guessing who's Not have Easter eggs and who's Definitely Not taking up any Easter Egg Hunt offers. The last time I played on the health retreat I ended up with Wheatgrass, Multivitamins and Flaxseed carefully disguised as Marshmallows in a festive container labelled Basket Case. No fair ...
Anyhoo, I just read that Celine Dion lost 27kg after giving birth to twins thanks to Breastfeeding!!??? Too complex and sooooooooo not on! I am metabolically and socially challenged. Former = genetic. Latter = friendships based on love and food I can never give up.Goal-setting up against the garage wall for the weekend = Priceless!
No comments:
Post a Comment