YoYo

Yes.

I’m a YoYo dieter.

Aren’t we all?

Although right now I’m more of a Yo than a Yo

I used to be quite slim, although walking 3km to the bus stop and back every day with a back pack full of school books will do that a teenager.

And I wasn’t really eating right.

My mother is convinced I was

But believe me, I wasn’t.

A slice of toast for breakfast, a coke / iced coffee for lunch, and what ever mum made for dinner, and that was my intake. So clearly I was burning off more than I was consuming.

I can’t do that anymore. I actually have to THINK at varying points in my day, which requires brain function, which is generally only achieved through eating.

I looked good though, and I still have my year 12 formal dress, that I’ve vowed to get back into, one day.

I’ve tried most of what’s available, with exception to the things that my partner wont allow, such as diet pills, he thinks they’re evil and will do bad things to me.

But I have tried working out a lot, and found I have no time for my friends and family, or myself. I was doing two or three hours a day in the gym, straight after work or on the way to work, or on the weekend when I had ‘nothing else to do’.

It became a big of an obsession. But it did work.

I was eating normally. Yes I ate fast food and consumed alcohol, but all the working out cancelled it out. I lost about 10 to 15 kilos.

Then I moved country, and walked everywhere.

The diet suffered, and the weight crept back on, but the walking everywhere managed to keep it down to a manageable ‘still sort of feel good about myself’ level.

Now I’m back in Australia, and I drive or bus it all over the place, I have negligible self control when it comes to fast food and chocolates, I drink too much, and I don’t exercise at all.

I’m not really sure what happened, but I’m definitely heavier than I’ve been in a long long time.

At my heaviest, I was 115kg. I was miserable with my life, not with myself, but with my LIFE.

So I changed it, and I got my life back, and I got happy.

I’m still happy, so I’m not quite sure why I’m holding onto the weight.

I definitely believe that as you near your 30s weight goes on quicker and take twice as long to get off, and eventually you reach a point where you have to admit that maybe, just maybe, I can’t do this on my own this time.

Currently I weight 100kg, and have a natural chest size to rival Pammy, but I hate it.

My frame isn’t built for 100kg, I’m a classic hour glass shape, but I’m not that broad. I’m about 5ft 7inch and Asthmatic, so it really doesn’t help to be 25kg over your ‘ideal’ weight.

I hate that phrase

‘ideal weight’

Everyone is different, but rather than working towards an ideal weight, I’ve decided to try and work away from what’s NOT ideal… which is what I’m at now.

My last resort, or more so, my kick start into my new me, is my naturopath.

She’s been great.

She’s had me detoxifying for the past few weeks and I feel much better. Today is the day we start phase two.

Phase two apparently is very hard, and she has warned me that it will not be pretty, and that I need to be mentally prepared for the withdrawals.

I think I can handle it.

I’ll be blogging my journey, I have to share my pain with someone.
Even if it’s Cyber Space.