December 1, 2018: The Start of a Regain

I'm back for my monthly update and the news isn't good. It looks a whole lot like the start of a massive regain to me.

On November 1, I weighed 178 pounds... my lowest weight this year. Today I am sad to report that I am up ten pounds to 188. Ten pounds in one month. And I know exactly what that ten pounds is made of. Fast food, candy, cookies, carbs, and junk. It's also made of pain, loneliness, anxiety, and tears. The fallout from my car accident has been big, but I know I don't have any real excuse for eating so much all the time. I'm not even trying anymore, to be honest. All doctor's appointments end with a trip through a drive through. All cravings and thoughts for something easy and convenient that I imagine might soothe my feelings for a bit are indulged. Frozen pizzas. Salami sandwiches. Anything my family cooks is eaten without discrimination. Long gone are the days of 1/4 cup of mashed potatoes as a side with meat and vegetables; instead. they are heaped on my plate with abandon, covered in gravy, and devoured. The calm is gone with food. And so is the ability to be satisfied with a bite or a taste. I can eat a heaping bowl full of chips and not get half the satisfaction I used to get with just 5 chips. Everything's changed.

I tried taking phentermine this week and skipping some of the pain meds, but somehow, phentermine did nothing at all. Instead of getting the calm back and reducing my appetite, it did nothing at all, even on the highest dose. But then I kind of knew it would be that way. My peace was taken in that crash and I haven't gotten it back yet, and that is the one essential element to my keeping off the weight.

I don't know what to do, because I honestly have no motivation to stop. Well, other than knowing that if I gain 5 more pounds NONE of my clothes will fit. Literally none. Stuff is tight already. I don't have much more room for failure.

I had to reschedule my counseling appointment this week so didn't get in at all. That didn't help. I did get cleared to start physical therapy next week, which I don't understand HOW I am going to do it without hurting myself, but they're the experts. So we'll see. I don't want to get on the scale anymore. I don't want any vegetables. I just want to sit here and eat everything that anyone brings in, and Christmas is the season for plenty of dropped-off foods. I dunno, sadly, I feel like I just don't care.

I don't know where this is headed (well, I mean, obviously I am either going to stay like I am and keep gaining, or find a way to stop and either maintain or lose), but if I could just finish healing physically and be done with the pain and restrictions, I feel like I'd get my old life... and peace... back.

* This article was originally published here
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