Another Easter been and gone, which unfortunately means another absolute mountain of chocolate consumed. When it wasn’t chocolate, it was other forms of junk food.

Yesterday I seemed to think it was a good idea to go to McDonalds and order a big mac combo. Well, the big mac combo was for starters. Then I polished off a caramel sundae and a chicken wrap. That’s not to mention the fact that earlier I had already scoffed a mars bar.

Oh dear. So it seems that I still haven’t managed to climb back on that wagon. I think it may have something to do with the not eating junk food thing seeming like such a big commitment. It just tastes so good, and it’s so sad to think that my days of eating til I feel ill are over. Everytime I fall off the wagon it is so hard to get back on it.

I’ve eaten all the chocolate I got for Easter now, so maybe, just maybe this time I will be able to stick to the diet. I want to be slimmer by summer. I want to be able to shop at normal shops by summer time. I want to be able to look for clothes when I go shopping with my friends instead of having to act as though the reason I am not trying anything on is because nothing interests me.

I will get there one day damn it! I will I will I will!

Argh! And I was being so good…. well, I was being good for a whole 2 and a half days. Then, god only knows what happened, but I sort of fell off the wagon… again!

I had been very good with the only drinking water, and the not eating very much at all thing, and then I went out on Saturday and ate a whole heap of crap, and then it all came to a head on Sunday when I must have consumed about a weeks worth of calories. I sat in my room all day watching TV and eating chocolate and lollies. I felt sick at one point, so stopped for about 15 minutes to catch my breath, and then started up again.

Monday consisted of more of the same. I baked a cake, and then proceeded to eat three quarters of it. How embarrassing. I also hid in my room eating more chocolate and drinking diet coke. Today has been nothing but more of the same. I need to be sent to a fat camp or something. Seriously!

Tomorrow is another day, hopefully a better one!

Starting up this blog seemed to have been the catalyst for the hungry monster in me. It also could have just been my period, but those damn things happen so often (like, seriously, once a month!) that I hate thinking my eating habits are so strongly influenced by them.

For the past week I have been eating like there’s no tomorrow. I would wake up in the morning, and skip off to the bakery (okay, skip is a bit of an exaggeration, lug my fat arse is more realistic) where I am now embarrassingly remembered by the staff. They smile at me. They must be looking at me trying to work out if the food I buy every morning is just for me, or whether others are helping out with the consumption of baked goods.

I end up leaving with not one, but TWO croissants, and an apple turnover. This bakery, with their mouth watering baked goods, is dangerously positions right across the road from where I live. It’s right next to the supermarket which sells chocolate cheaper than I have seen it before.

I am one of those fat people that doesn’t like eating in front of other people, as I get paranoid that they are all looking at me and thinking “oh you fat girl, you fat fat girl!”. I am home alone all morning, and the child I look after only comes home in the afternoon, meaning that my daily trips to the bakery go unnoticed by everyone except the bakery staff. I try to give the impression that these croissants and apple turnovers aren’t JUST for me.

Anyway, thankfully my appetite seems to have subsided somewhat. I didn’t wake up this morning and think FOOD. I did however wake up and think “I don’t wanna go for a walk, it looks like it’s going to rain….”

One step at a time, one step at a time!

I really really want to be able to run! Imagine how useful it would be. How fit I would feel! Unfortunately the exercising thing is turning out to be requiring more will-power than I currently contain.  It just seems that everyday there is a new excuse not to exercise. Todays was that the skies looked awfully grey and that I didn’t want to get rained on. What will tomorrows be?

Perhaps tomorrow it will be too cold. It could be too hot. I could be too tired. I might not have any clean workout pants. I might wake up too late. I might have other stuff that I have to do first. I might have another of my mysterious sore throats which only last for about an hour after waking up. I might not have any spare time.

Yeah right.

I think the only thing that is stopping me exercise is me! I really need to get over my excuses and harness that will-power that I’m sure is somewhere in me.

I’m pointedly avoiding talking about the weekend that was. Unless people really want to hear about my total fall from grace which included mcdonalds….. twice…..

Okay, so the diet has begun. It hasn’t begun very well though. The day before yesterday I went for a (very small) jog. Although I said I wouldn’t be doing the whole healthy eating and exercising thing, I did go for a jog. The main reason is that I would like to be able to run, and I guess I have to start somewhere.

That night I ate two rolls with marmite on them (gotta love the marmite!) and about 100gms of chocolate. Sigh. I didn’t feel too guilty, as I had done the jog. Then we get to yesterday. I took a pill containing 120mgs of BZP which should have been enough to keep the appetite at bay for some time. I also went for a jog in the morning (another very small one). Things were looking good. Unfortunately there is also the habit of eating which isn’t so easy to break. I managed to not eat, and then at dinner time, my employer comes home and asks what we should have for dinner… without even thinking I suggest takeaway chicken that is available across the road… The child that I look after gets all excited and screeches YES YES CAN WE?????

To add insult to injury the child decides he wants chips as well with the chicken. So we all end up with hot chips too. Argh! That was dinner. Why couldn’t I have just kept my mouth shut?!!!! I didn’t even really want to eat it, but sort of had to after I asked my employer to buy it for me. Not good.

Luckily the BZP seems to have quite a long lasting effect on me. I didn’t go for a jog today. I woke up and thought my throat felt sore. By the time the kid had come home from school (at midday, lucky German kids,  unlucky nanny!) my sore throat had disappeared and I was angry with myself. It’s likely that my throat wasn’t sore to start with, just all in my head. The things our amazing minds can do aye?

We’re supposed to be doing the grocery shopping this evening. Not a very exciting Friday night activity, and very likely to end up with all sorts of junk in the trolley.  The family I work for unfortunately have very unhealthy eating habits, and even before I started my new diet I was horrified at the lack of fruit and veges. Most of the veges in Germany seem to come straight from a can. It just doesn’t seem very healthy.

Urgh, and don’t even get me started on the meat consumption here…. it’s all pork, sausages and salami. I’m used to a lot of fish and chicken back home. So I continue my struggle, against the gut pressing tightly against the jeans (the largest I could find as well!) and against the revolting food in the land where meat reigns supreme.  Tomorrow is another day

A reader commented (yay my first comment thank you ) about my first post and said that she too had had some issues with sexual abuse which she felt contributed to her weight gain. I feel my past has greatly effected my relationship with food and my self esteem, so thought maybe it was a good idea to delve a little deeper into the history, for the readers. Also hopefully it is a bit cathartic.

 Everyone loves a good train wreck, so here goes!

When I was young my mother always told me that I was fat, ugly and worthless. If you are told that enough times from a young age, you start to believe it. It gets pretty engrained in there too. The sad thing about it, is as a child I wasn´t even THAT fat. I look back on those days and think that maybe with a more supportive mother I would never have become what I became.

I have previously stated that at the age of 15 I was raped. I was a virgin, and had never even been kissed. As crazy as this sounds, I was too horrified to tell anyone (and still haven´t til this day, dear readers, you are the first to hear of this!) and so kept it bottled up inside of me. Although now I have accepted that it wasn´t my fault, that I was just a kid, and that no one had the right to do that to me, at the time I just didn´t see it like that.

I felt as though I was too ugly to have been raped. I didn´t want to tell anyone because I thought they would immediately think “she must be lying, no one would rape a fat ugly girl like you”. I didn´t feel worthy enough to have been raped. That´s low self esteem for you! So I kept it inside, and started eating and becoming depressed.

In order to try and regain some self esteem I had sex with random people, about 12 of them in total over the space of 2 years. Through this time I was putting on the 20kilos which I attribute to the messed up emotions from rape number one. One night I was having sex with a random person I met in a bar, and he finished and said to me, “do you mind if my mate has a go?” and I said that it was fine. So that night I had sex with two strangers. That really hurts to remember. I wish I could go back and hug the 17 year old me who just wanted to be loved and feel okay with herself, and to tell her she didn´t need to do this.

 Naturally, this only made my self esteem worse.

After I was raped a second time, more of the same emotions ran through my head. Now that I was 20kgs heavier than I was 2years ago, I thought that no one is going to believe that anyone would ever rape me, when there were so many other pretty thin girls they could have raped instead. My depression got worse. I didn´t feel as though my life had a purpose. I was fat, and ugly, and no one wanted me.  I felt as though not even my family loved me. What hope was there that one day I would find someone to love me if even my family couldn´t bring themselves to care about me?

At this point I got so depressed I stopped the random sex, and developed a fear of men. I got very very depressed, and tried to commit suicide through an alcohol and pill overdose. I threw up the pills in my coma and woke up about a day later. No one had noticed. I didn´t bother telling anyone.

I went to the doctor, and for once in my life was honest with her. I told her about the suicide attempt, and she put me on prozac. I told her I had no idea why I was so depressed. I turned down counselling as I didn´t want to admit to a counsellor that I knew what the root of all my problems were, and then to have to lay them out on the table. I was certain that even the counsellor would be sitting there, smiling encouragingly, but thinking “this fat beast must be lying, who in their right mind would rape THAT”.

After the prozac things started to look a bit better I guess. I still am not able to talk about the rapes, and still haven´t told anyone. I know that this, and my mothers constant put-downs are what has caused me to over eat my entire life. I know that I need to deal with these issues if I ever want to lead a healthy happy life. I guess I am just too scared to. No one has ever bothered to care about me before, so why would they now?

So that is how I ended up with a BMI of over 45 at the age of 21. That´s a little bit more insight into the mental space that I am coming from. Hopefully through telling strangers this it will help a little.

I am sick of being fat. I have been fat my entire life. After being raped at the age of 15 I overate in order to compensate for how awful I felt.  I managed to put on a clean 20kgs. After being raped a second time at the age of 18 the overeating spiralled out of control. I added another 20kgs to the scales.

I ended up being a 160cm girl, weighing 116kgs.

My self esteem was at an all time low, and I started having heart palpitations when walking up hills. This was all at the young age of 20. I should have been having the time of my life at university. Instead, I was shopping at department stores, buying the largest size of stretchy waistband pants, as they were the only thing that would fit me.

My body was covered in stretch marks, and I felt as though even if I did manage to shift some of the weight, I would always look horrid anyway.

I still have no idea how this happened, but after gaining a new group of friends some weight started to shift. I have always been lazy. It wasn’t through healthy eating and exercising. Suddenly I had lost my appetite. I didn’t want to eat, so I didn’t.  I lost about 26kgs, and was down to 90kgs in about a year. Unfortunately that is where the ride ended. My appetite returned with gusto. I have managed to not gain too much weight, but it hovers between 90 and 99kgs these days.

I want my appetite gone again. I want to be able to shop in H&M. I want to not have to feel embarrassed when eating fast food. I don’t want to be paranoid that everyone from the pimply teen behind the counter to the mothers with their young children are thinking “oh she really doesn’t need that!”

So here is how I plan to do it. Unlike every other person who has succeeded in reaching their goals, and are now slim and enjoying the life that goes along with it, I am NOT going to eat healthy. I am NOT going to spend hours exercising, and I am not going to worry about the health repercussions of what I am doing.

I’m 24, I’m sure my body has heaps of time to recover from whatever I do during this reckless attempt to lose weight.

What I am planning on doing is abusing the drug BZP, and anything else which I think is a good idea at the time. BZP is sold as an ingredient in New Zealand’s “party pills”.  These legal alternatives to hard drugs were originally designed as a weight loss tool, and are reported to have an impact on the appetite. We shall see.

Unfortunately I don’t have a set of scales at home, which is going to make this hard to keep track of, but I will update with my weight at every opportunity. At the moment I am sitting at 95kgs. I am not expecting this to work, as everyone knows there is no such thing as an easy for being a fatty. I’m just desperate enough and lazy enough to give it a spin. Well, wish me luck, and stop in from time to time to see how I am getting along.