Doom and gloom

By rights, being as today is my penultimate day in work before the summer holiday, I should be in a good mood. I’m not.

I’m not depressed or even anxious – which makes a change. I’m just goddam fed up.

I realised this morning that I have nothing to look forward to.

My summer holiday is usually filled with booked camping trips, a holiday abroad with a friend, day trips etc etc. I have nothing.

My two week booked trip to be with Wild Card has been officially cancelled given that his government are still not letting in tourists. That of course does not help. I’ve rebooked for August in the hope things will change but the likelihood is that I won’t be going. There are too many factors that could stop me.

My relationship with him is as good as ever. We are still in regular contact every single day. Recently he has told me and shown me in so many ways how he feels without actually coming out and saying it. Admittedly, I kind of need that blunt statement of intent and feeling but the more I want it the less likely he will give it me.

It also doesn’t help that during our recent conversations he’s talked about one of his brothers taking his wife for a trip to Stockholm and the other brother and his wife having a cosy restaurant meal post-fall out. I’m jealous. I’d be happy just being in Wild Card’s house with him, going nowhere, but even that isn’t happening.

The summer holidays is stretching out before me as a bland nothing. I don’t want to go camping because I don’t want to deal with people. I don’t want to go to my beloved Lake District because it is reportedly full of people. I don’t want to spend my holiday stuck in my own home because that’s what I’ve done since lockdown when not in work. It’s all blah blah blah.

I’m going to focus on reinstating my fitness regime and working on my new hobby of painting. Even that is boring me.

I want the excitement and anticipation of travelling. I want to be in the arms of the man I love. I want to feel his love. I want to take my children places to inspire them and help them grow.

Instead? Nothing.


My worst enemy is…

Definitely myself. Or my errant, spontaneous and often negative, thoughts.

I had an hour long chat yesterday morning with Wild Card before I went shopping. I actually enjoyed shopping for once… Mainly because I discovered I have now dropped three dress sizes. Yes three. So shopping became pleasurable, particularly as I was buying clothes for my trip to see Wild Card which is now less than two weeks away…

I spent the afternoon with my friend, of course dissecting the situation with him. She’s supportive, honest, and not overly negative. She asked more about my thoughts for the future and I just told her that I am enjoying this one step at a time. And I’ve been telling my head that ever since. Can I cope with years of this? What if he doesn’t like me when I get there? Nerves, anticipation, paranoia… Just focus on one step at a time.

Back to being my own worst enemy…

I got home late afternoon and as I hadn’t heard from him all day, sent a message. An hour and a half later there had been no response. I don’t have to say any more do I? My head was jumping to its own conclusions as usual. But, thinking about my recent training, I tried thinking logically and sensibly… He always calls back. He never misses. He has his own life – maybe he was just busy. I’ve missed his texts before! And he’s told me to call when I want… So, I did.

And of course, everything was fine. He was out in the city with his family. His brother was getting his hair cut, so Wild Card took me on a little walk so I could see the surroundings. He kept asking me what I thought. As he got back to the car, he told me he would call me later.

Fifteen minutes later he was calling again, this time showing me a shopping precinct. It was amazing to see it and made me even more excited for my visit. In some ways it clarified my expectations too.

So, my stupid head thought the worst and in return he was as attentive and thoughtful as ever, showing me his world and wanting my opinion on it. He didn’t need to do any of that.

That should be enough, shouldn’t it? How many times does he need to prove those negative thoughts wrong? But oh no, my over active imagination decided to start again today…

I had my usual ‘good morning’ text. So far so good. I got home and the clock steadily worked its way to six and so the anticipation started to build, as usual. My kids are home, so of course their needs come first, so I work to get everything done before he calls. At half six, I sit down and I hadn’t heard anything… And then I heard the familiar ping of my phone.

Butterflies dancing in my stomach, I opened messenger to see that he has sent me a video. I waited, rather impatiently, for it to download.

It was an Ed Sheeran video of ‘Perfect’, with the lyrics in both his first language and English. I think it might be one of the most romantic things he’s done and my heart just swelled. (Read the lyrics and you’ll know what I mean.)

But was he being romantic or was he just sending me a song he liked? If I assume he was being romantic and he wasn’t, it will be really awkward. How to answer… I send a kiss face and said ‘I love that song’. Neutral, I thought.

Ten minutes later… No response. How the hell can he send that and then not respond or even read my message?

Oh. He had sent 45 minutes before it had finally downloaded. Grrrr.

Nothing for it but to call him…. And he’s on the phone.

To who? Obviously another woman. He’s probably sent it to all of us and she responded first. I actually stopped myself at this point. What on earth was I doing? He’s just sent something really romantic and I’m being negative. Again. So I reasoned with myself. He’s told you that he would not sit at home on the phone with another woman when his parents know about me. It’s probably his brother or his friend or something. He will call back.

Which he did. But when I answered, he wasn’t at home. He was out for a walk. Which meant he could have been on the phone to another woman. What the hell is wrong with me?! We spoke very briefly but it was hard to hear so he said he would call me when he got home.

So when he called back he knew instantly, instantly, there was something wrong. Even though I’d given myself a stern telling off for jumping to conclusions. But he knew. It didn’t matter how much I smiled and said I was fine, he kept asking. He said he knew me and I wasn’t acting the same. Did I not like the music he sent me? At this point I had even asked him if he sent it to be romantic. He replied that he loved me and thought about me all the time and he liked the song and found it in our languages… Did I not want him to be romantic? He asked if it was work, my family, had he done something to upset me… He even mentioned the fact he had been on the phone but I did such a good job of saying ‘what?!’ that he changed the subject and kept questioning me. Yeah, because you realised you were not at home… He even pulled the… ‘if you love me and want me, you need to tell me what’s wrong’ tactic.

Sure, I’m going to tell you that I became insanely jealous and paranoid when you’ve done nothing more than be on the phone when I called.

Luckily, for me, at this point my youngest came in to the room and dominated the conversation for a while. And yes, Wild Card is brilliant with him. Swoon.

The conversation ended not long after that as my son needed to go to bed and Wild Card had overheard his Dad in the next room saying something about a bereavement. He blew kisses at me and told me to not be sad. I told him I wasn’t, but clearly I hadn’t convinced him.

What is wrong with me? Really, I mean what is wrong? The facts speak for themselves. I’ve got to stop jumping to conclusions and stick with the facts. I keep hoping that a week with him, confirming that we both feel the same and I will stop worrying so much.

But. My own worst enemy isn’t so sure I can manage a worry free existence.

Just words

For the past month I’ve been feeling pretty good.

Work is hard but much better with the new Headteacher. I feel valued and I love my new job.

After a health scare and a series of tests, I’ve been told I have IBS and have discovered I have a gluten intolerance – much better then the pancreatic cancer that Google diagnosed. This has meant that I have cut out a large part of my previous diet. I’ve lost a stone and a half so far. I can see it, I can feel it.

Online dating has been beneficial too. With my more open mind and ‘modern’ dating theory, I enjoyed talking to different men even if the chats have subsequently drifted away. I’ve been complimented and that has helped me feel good. My perceptions of myself are changing.

So, all in all, there’s been a spring in my step.

Friday, I went Christmas shopping with my friend. We went to Manchester, a city I barely know. We went to the art gallery, shopped – tried to find coffee shops with gluten free food and failed – and generally had a good time.

We went to one place particularly as my friend loved it there. It was a market hall of alternative stalls – think piercings, incense and rock band t shirts. Not my thing, but she loved it. As she was browsing, I noticed the stall opposite was selling 50s style dresses.

Before I knew it, I was trying one on. The smaller size. And it looked good! The sweetheart neckline emphasised my full bust, the tight waist band and narrow belt cinched in my newly rediscovered waist. The skirt floated over my hips and covered the parts of me that I still want to hide. I felt beautiful.

I came out the changing room, and beckoned my friend over from the other stall.

Whilst I value the honesty of my friend normally, I did not expect the reaction I received. Frowning, she said, ‘you need to wear a cardigan with that’.

When I stated that I didn’t think I did (doubt already creeping in) she replied that the dress made my shoulders look wide.

I went back into the changing room and took off the dress. As I changed, I saw the loose skin that has appeared as I have lost weight. I saw the areas of my body that still need to lose more. I was deflated.

Is this what’s going to happen when I meet Second? Or Wild Card? I will dress up and feel good, only for them to see my faults??

Later, my friend tried to back-pedal but it was too late.

Just words.

Yesterday, I was not in a good place. My insecurities had all come back, the spring in my step had gone.

Wild Card had called me earlier in the day but I had been at my sister’s. Whilst still being very much covered up, he happened to see more of my body than he had previously. The video chat was brief because I said I was going home soon and then I would call him.

Half an hour later I tried but there was no answer. Hours passed and still no response. So I tried again – this time he was already on the phone. I left it for fifteen minutes and decided to try once more. If I got no response then I knew he’d disappeared. Clearly he hadn’t liked my body. Who could blame him?

I had spiralled in to a pit of self loathing and negativity.

I called. No answer.

I then may have sent a text stating that he had disappeared since he had seen my body. Yes I know, clingy move.

I deleted it hastily, before messenger claimed he had read it. But within seconds he had replied telling me he was driving and to wait.

Anxiety ripped through me. What had I been thinking? How stupid was I to believe the things he said? No doubt his previous video chat when I couldn’t get through was to another woman.

The vile and self depreciating thoughts spiraled out of my head and into the pit of my stomach.

Eventually he called. He was out with family and the call was brief. He said we would talk later.

I finished getting ready for the charity night I was attending with family. Nothing looked right, not even the dress I was now able to wear for the first time because I have lost weight. There were bags under my eyes and my skin tone was awful. My legs looked huge and my hair wouldn’t style.

My family commented on my silence as I drove them to the party. I was contemplative, internal. I considered the power of someone’s words, however innocently and sincerely meant, to change my thought processes. I thought about how I was pining for Wild Card’s attention when I feared he had disappeared. How strong my developig feelings for him were becoming … A man I had only dated on video chat.

I felt stupid, ridiculous. So what if I’ve lost weight, I’ve got so much more to lose! I haven’t even met either man, what was possessing me to think that either could work? I was just a flirty distraction to them, that’s all. There was no way that I was there only me in their lives, this is the modern world. And what a hypocrite I am to even want that, I am talking to two men, just to ‘hedge my bets’.

Just words.

The charity party was a great success and I did start to relax a little. During the night I had brief contact from Wild Card and more regular communication from Second. I perked up a little.

When I got home and crawled in to my lonely bed, I couldn’t help but message Wild Card. I told him I hoped he’d had a good night with his family and that I was looking forward to speaking with him soon.

To my surprise, considering the hour, he messaged back. He asked if I had missed him, and I replied that I had. I was honest about fearing he had disappeared. He told me what I knew all ready – he had been busy with family. It wasn’t the right time to go into how a text stating that, would have saved me an evening of anxiety, but I will at some point.

I’ve stopped going on to the dating apps and how allowed other connections to drift away. I would willingly date either man now, yes slowly, just because I want to know them more.

But my insecurities have now peaked. I’m questioning the logic in focusing my attention on two men in which any potential dating would be problematic. I’m just not sure I have the heart to start again. I know I don’t have the heart to say goodbye either.

And yet, what have I had?

Just words.

This is why

I hate Internet dating.

After much contemplation, I thought I would give it a go.

I searched a bit, read some reviews, and settled for Bumble. This app only let’s you contact if you both are interested and the woman always has to message first. You both have 24hours to respond.

So, I started. I only put one picture of myself up, one from Christmas that my sisters said I looked beautiful in.

I read and swiped and was pleased to see that I had 50+ interests although apparently not the people the men that I was interested in.

And then it happened–I got a match!

Reading his profile, he liked cooking and baking, traveling so I though I’d skip the ‘hello there’ and try to be more original.

“So, what would you cook for a date then?”

Him: “Lettuce for you”

“Lettuce for your diet.”

He then blocked me before I could respond in kind.


He didn’t need to match me. He didn’t need to answer my message (which now makes me feel even fatter than ever) because after 24 hours of no response, we become invisible to each other. Why be nasty?

This, right here, is why I hate Internet dating.


I awoke this morning to the beautiful sounds of birdsong. It was last year since I have heard such a beautiful dawn chorus and it lifted my heart as well as saddened it too – I remember very clearly the dawn chorus which accompanied me as I watched my Dad leave in the ambulance.

Even so, it was a lovely way to wake up this morning.

This afternoon was great too. For the first time in seven months my friend and I went out walking again.

We’ve not been out walking since the beginning of the summer holidays and before she weirded out on me.

We went to a National Trust property, wrapped up warm but loving the sunshine. We bought sandwiches and coffee from the restaurant and found an obliging bench to sit and eat. Then it started to hail. Yes, hail.

We sheltered under the bare branches on a huge tree which surprisingly helped. Ten minutes later the sun was shining again and we set off through the parkland. It felt amazing to breathe in the crisp air, feel the faint heat of winter sunshine on my face and feel my body respond to the exercise. We then wandered through the gardens and saw a fantastic display of early spring flowers.

Dad loved his snowdrops and always pointed them out.

Word has it that they are the symbol of renewed life: the end of the death that winter brings.

We talked of our fathers and how, if they had met, they would have got on so well. They had so much in common and it’s sad that they didn’t get a chance to meet. We laughed at things they would have said to each other and then the strangest thing happened.

In the shrubbery, not a metre from us, was a Robin. As we got closer it didn’t move – just looked around and sang.

My photos do not do justice to how close this bird was to us. Just as I was saying to my friend that there must be something wrong with it, another one appeared on the same shrub!

To both of us it was a sign – it was too unusual for it not to be. We carried on, hearts swelling and renewed. We felt that our Dads had heard us and were telling us they were here.

And so, tired from my walk, I too felt on the cusp of change. From the cold and icy hail to the warm sunshine… the bare limbs of trees to the early flowers…. the sight and song of birds…

A hint of spring yet still winter too… Spri-nter. ☺

And although I’m still in the darkness of my grief, there are signs of positivity too.

Sod’s Law

I kid you not… Last night I started with a new flare-up. What are the odds of that?

Actually, quite high as my condition is brought on by stress. Friday’s absence meeting was stressful and I’ve thought of little else.

Or may be it is the laws of attraction at work – I’ve worried about a flare-up all weekend so now I have one.

Luckily (if you choose to think about it this way) I still have some ointment from my last flare-up and started it straight away. I should get to the hospital tomorrow but I’m not going to. One, I can’t afford the absence. Two, if the consultant finds out I’ve had a second flare-up within a month I can see another sick note at the very least. No, hopefully I’ve caught it early enough and I can avoid going. If it does get more serious, well, work will see it and I will have no choice.

But, I’m meant to be positive from now on.

So, I’ve started a new three week weight loss plan on Lifesum today. I’ve ordered shopping and have checked the meals are appropriate for my work schedule. I’ve also logged into Holland and Barrett and am trying their trial ‘Healthbox’. I have taken questionnaires based on my current health needs and they have suggested supplements to help. I have received a month’s supply half price and with free delivery – I will try it for a month and will review. I’ve booked in a long walk next Sunday with my friend and am in the process of planning more exercise opportunities this week.

I can do this.

Self esteem

As regular readers will know, and anyone who is on the plumpscious side will understand, being overweight seriously messes with your self esteem.

This obviously creates a myriad of problems and for me, in a cruel irony, makes it even less likely for me to lose weight: I’m an emotional Over-eater, a ‘might as well eat it because I’m disgusting already’ and a ‘well, you’ll never be thin so enjoy yourself’ type of a gal.

People tell me that I’m pretty. I’m not sure I believe them. I can’t see past my huge stomach and flabby thighs so how can they?

There are times when life has surprised me though…

I met my first proper boyfriend when I was 17 and I couldn’t believe it when he asked me out. He was older than me, more attractive than me, more confident than me… Yet, he chose me. (In the end, he turned out to be an absolute plonker that broke my heart then stalked me when I’d had enough of being messed about and refused to take him back… But that’s another story.)

Or in my 20s when I went on holiday with friends and I ended up with the holiday fling that everyone fancied. He chose me. I still can’t believe it now and was completely surprised by it then. Sure, that’s all it ever was and ever would be but he picked me.

My trip to Spain last year. The girls joked about how many men had come on to me… I was pretty surprised myself! I still say that it was because I was single and perhaps more open to if but it was a welcome pick-me-up after months of depression.

And then, Lost Soul. Oh Lost Soul! Undeniably attractive to many women I know, six years younger than me, and yet he was attracted to little old fat me.

I’m telling you this, not because I have a big head – it’s actually one of the smallest parts about me – but because I need to remind myself of this occasionally to drag myself out of my self hatred and misery.

I suppose I never really believe that men find me attractive until they openly ask me out or make a move. Sometimes I think someone may be interested but quickly my self doubt kicks in and I end up believing myself to be imagining it.

Take last week. I went on a residential course with a colleague. We entered the room and the host came over to greet us. As he left, my colleague and I looked at each other and said “wow”. He was gorgeous. I noticed, on the second day, that he seemed to looking at me a lot when he spoke to the room. Of course, I wanted to believe that he was attracted to me but I didn’t believe it. Wishful thinking, I thought. He’s looking at you no more than anyone else.

On our way home, my colleague mentioned that she’d noticed him looking at me a lot. I hadn’t imagined it then. Doesn’t mean anything – nothing happened – but it was reassuring to my battered ego.

Ah and there’s my crush, whom I have written about twice now. He is someone I have met through work but who works for a different agency to me. Oh he is delicious. He makes all my nerve endings zing and I’m so drawn to him when he speaks. God I hope he doesn’t notice that.

And when we do speak, there’s little things that he says and does that make me think… Well, daydream. The possibility, the explanation of things he’s said and done. Nothing explicit, nothing in the open, but enough to make me wonder. Like, giving me his personal number instead of his work number. Telling me I can call him whenever.

Am I reading too much into this? Maybe. Maybe this is how stalkers are created. ☺ There’s just something when we speak and I can’t believe it’s just me… A magnetism between us, somehow. Have you ever experienced that?

Anyway, in the high likelyhood that this is entirely in my imagination, all I can say is that I am really enjoying awakening those thoughts and feelings again. It’s making me remember how it feels to be interested in someone again. I like that feeling. I want to feel it again, and reciprocated. Maybe it’s not too late for me, maybe my weight doesn’t matter to some people, even if it does to me.

Maybe this is the positive jolt I need to start looking after myself again. To find love again. I need to keep reminding myself that I’m not as grotesque as I think I am.


I once read a book which talked about coincidences. My mum was very much into Spiritualism at the time and recommended into me. It was less about Spiritualism as such (mediums and clairvoyance etc) and more about our relationship with the natural world. They advocated spending time with nature, eating simple organic food, meditation…. And taking notice of the coincidences around us, messages from our guides. Putting the Spiritualism to one side, it was a powerful book even if you were not a believer. (When I remember the name I will post it in the comments)

Coincidences have the power to make the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Whether you are just simply attuned to them or they just happen and you are alerted to them, they’re pretty weird. From reading that book, I’ve always believed that you should take note of them: whether from an ethereal being or simply your subconscious trying to tell you something, it’s worth having a think when they crop up.

Last week, for the first time in about ten years, a pupil made a comment about my weight. He’s not a pupil that I know very well. I’m nowhere near as heavy as I was in January this year thanks to the Keto diet. I am however still a stone heavier than I was a year ago. I know I’m overweight. It’s quite obvious I’m overweight. And I’ve no doubt that there has been many a pupil that have called me all the ‘fats’ under the sun when I have had to sanction them. But, they’ve always had the respect to not to do this to my face. In fact, one of the boy’s friends, a boy I do know, openly said how “sly” it was after it had been said. In some ways, this actually made me feel worse about my weight – like it is something the pupils who I get on with pity me for. The other pupil irritated more for his lack of respect, not what he actually said.

Anyway it was dealt with, calmly, and we move on.

This morning I woke up and, looking in the mirror, felt huge even though I have only put a few pounds on since Dad got ill. It’s the second day of my period and I’m going out tonight – always a source of anxiety for someone overweight (What am I going to wear? Will I actually be able to find something that makes me feel nice and pretty?) But, knowing that keeping positive is always the best way to stay on a diet and feel good about yourself, I chose some nice clothes to wear, felt good, and went out early to the shops.

So far so good. I even dared to think about whether I might see a handsome single man, fresh from the gym, browsing the Booths’ aisles at 8am in the morning. Fat chance. 😊

Instead I saw someone I used to work with twenty years ago. She’s older than me, 50 in a couple of days apparently, but we used to get on well and she even came to my 21st birthday party. It was nice to see her and have a catch up, and we laughed about how hard it was to shop with the kids (My four year old was being a little demanding) when she said it.

“Ooh, are you expecting again then?” to which I just patted my stomach and replied,

“oh no, I’m just fat I’m afraid.”

She was embarrassed and I felt sorry for her, rather than myself – at that moment anyway. Being honest, the comment has not left my head ad ever since.

Yes, I am overweight. Yes, the top I wore could be perceived as a maternity top (light, floaty and nipped in under the bust and designed to hide a belly, pregnant or not). Plus I had a young child with me and am still, just about, in child producing age.

Coincidence or just the world telling me to lose weight? Who knows but I know I need to listen.

Nothing to report

Life has settled back down to its usual rhythm.

Dad is stable for now. He has little energy to do much but each day does a little more for himself. I’m still not convinced he truly realises the extent of his condition but none of us are sure that now is the time to tell him: he is anxious enough already. My sisters and I are sharing his care. He doesn’t like to be alone but this week we have had to rely on the carers a little more than last week as work has beckoned for us all.

Talking of which, I’ve been back to full duties for a couple of weeks now. It’s fine. I’m enjoying it. Sure, it can be fast-paced and a little stressful, but I enjoy the challenge again.

This week I’ve been slowly working on getting back on my diet. For the first week of Dad being ill I was really good: taking pots of yoghurt and fruit into hospital whilst I sat with him, drinking loads of water. Tiredness, stress and low mood soon stopped that. Gosh have I suffered for it. All my old symptoms have returned – bloating, stomach pain etc. I’ve not found it as easy to start again this time so have slowly introduced the changes again. Today, finally, I managed low carb successfully. I’ve only put 3lb in weight on but feel heavier. Hopefully I will see those positive changes again soon.

And that, really is it. My life is centred around my kids, my Dad and work. Housework figures a little too. At the moment I’m fine with all that:I’m just happy my Dad is still alive and not suffering too much at present.

This weekend I have actually made some plans – seeing a good friend for the first time in six months (I avoided all previous plans with her due to my anxiety but she has been very understanding). I missed another friend’s birthday last weekend as I was caring for Dad so this weekend I am taking her out for a cream tea in a castle.

Enjoy the rest of your week!

Weightloss update

Just thought I would update my blog on my current weightloss and diet.

(These opinions are entirely my own. I am not a trained professional. I have simply researched and tried out what works for me. Always speak to your GP before taking on a new eating regime.)

From April 2017 to November 2017 I put on over a stone in weight. From November 2017 to January 2018 I put an unknown amount on, but I would suspect it was probably nearing another stone: mirtazapine, Christmas and depression will do that to a girl. I don’t know how much because of course I didn’t weigh myself. But every item of clothes I owned, even the ones that had been loose, were tight. I felt huge – the biggest I had ever been. I was bloated and uncomfortable.

Coming off the mirtazapine helped initially. Be it the side effects of the drug on my weight, or simply that I felt better, I started to lose weight. When I felt better, I weighed myself. I was two stone heavier than I had been in April – the last time I had been at my ‘low weight’ since a year of Slimming World and Weight Watchers. Put simply, I had put everything on I had lost and more.

Since coming back from Prague, I have engaged in a new eating regime. This has come from months of research and reading but also reflecting on what has worked previously for me. I will continue to tweak and monitor as I go.

  1. Intermittent fasting of 16:8. My first meal is 11am and I have usually finished my meal well before my 7pm curfew. Results? I am certainly eating less: no late night snacking or binging and on some days I am only eating two full meals. This has made it much easier to:
  2. Reduce and count calories. I have downloaded Lifesum and paid for the premium. I log everything I eat – and I mean everything. I aim to be below my target daily calories on the majority of days. I also track my water intake and have really improved with this.
  3. Lifesum Premium means I have access to the Low Carb Ketogenic diets. I am currently on the ‘easy’ low carb diet which means I can have up to 100g of carbs a day. I eat very low carb at breakfast and lunch or brunch but have a small amount at dinner times on most days. If I can, I try to not to. Yet, I rarely go as high as 100g and am usually around 50-60g but I like that I have the option of more if needed. The app actually suggests not counting calories but I still do – I mostly eat less as said above. I feel this covers the likely hood of error.
  4. However, once a week, I have a day where I allow myself all the carbs and all of my daily calories. I still follow the low carb and 16.8 in the daytime, but at night I will have a meal that I really fancy. I have read that it is good to shock the system with some days of low calories, one with higher and then average days in between.

So, the results.

I have lost 10lbs in two weeks. I have lost 5cm off my stomach and other cms elsewhere. My skin feels softer. I do not suffer with bloating anymore and so my large tummy is actually smaller: I look and feel like I have lost more than that. I get full when eating much less than used to. My sugar cravings are almost non-existent and manageable when they are there. And I am not thinking about food all the time!

At the moment, this bespoke plan is working for me and it is doable. I don’t feel like I’m missing out just yet but it is very early days. I know that I can always reduce the carbs further if my weightloss stalls.

Next steps:

I need to research more meal ideas as I am eating roughly the same things. I will get bored if I don’t.

Once I have finally shifted this cold/cough I am going to start the HIIT that has been recommended to me and that apparently works well with lchf diets.

Plan how this can work when I am in school – I don’t have time to eat salad, egg, bacon and avocado for breakfast at work. Need quick fixes.

So, all good so far. Here’s hoping I have finally found an eating plan I can stick to.