I’ve been on the South Beach Diet (vegetarian style) for about a week and a half now. Blah blah results: I’ve lost about 7lbs, look a lot thinner, good times all around. But here are some more thoughts on the subject.
1. Why am I so scared of fat? Before the diet, I ate close to zero fat. Fat-free soymilk, fat-free muffins, fat-free bran flakes, fat-free everything. I stayed away from tofu, from cheese, from nuts, from avocados, from anything processed that had more than 1g of fat per serving. I was terrified of fat. Pretty good, non? Well, sure, short of the fact that I was always hungry. I’m not just saying that flippantly like “oh, he’s always grumpy”. I mean I was ALWAYS hungry. When I woke up in the morning, the first thing I thought of wasn’t Angelo, wasn’t my job, wasn’t the fact that I had to pee, it was food. Like a smoker who reaches for a cigarette before they turn off their alarm. It stopped me from doing my job a lot of the time. I’d sit there and watch the clock, urging it to move forward so I could eat again. And I didn’t stop thinking about food until I tossed and turned myself into exhaustion and slept for a few short hours before it started again.
2. I ate so much bread and starch, I was a skinny girl with a little Buddha belly. Like those skinny fat guys (ectomorphs with beer guts). I ate too many carbs, because I was so hungry all the time, and while I wasn’t getting too much fat, I was getting too much glucose too fast.
oven roasted veggies with mustard tofu
red kidney beans with tomatoes and cumin, mashed cauliflower, green salad
4. Tofu and beans taste f*cking good! Holy shit, I’ve been eating some tasty things. I revert to the old salad with protein topping when I’m in a rush or tired, but there have been some nice meals in the last two weeks. Before that I would come home, open the fridge, sigh, and make another mushroom melt sandwhich. Or have a bowl of cereal. And still be hungry the minute the last bite was swallowed.
5. Just because Angelo doesn’t like sweet things doesn’t mean I have to stop liking them, too. I compare myself to him and feel guilty when I indulge in ANYthing because I’m “SO” much fatter than he is. I know he’s skinny. I know he’s skinnier than I am. I also know I won’t change that, unless I go full on eating disorder and he quits the road and takes up Doritos. But as it stands, I need a little maple syrup in my life, and if he doesn’t like it, he can just go piss up a rope.
6. I need, and I mean it is IMPERATIVE that I get and stay regular. As I type this – the reason I’m typing this whole post – is because I am so uncomfortable today that it’s making me cry. It’s been a long time (I’ve lost count of the days) since my last movement. I know it’s affected my mood significantly in the last 36 hours or so, and still no relief in sight. I cannot, CANNOT, keep living this way. I haven’t eaten a slice of bread, an ounce of pasta, rice, or cereal, or a potato for that matter, in 11 days and STILL nothing has changed. It is starting to scare me. I dream of kidney failure and liver damage. Angelo said the words “colon cancer” to me and I can’t get them out of my head. I don’t know why this is happening to me, but I need to fix it. I have a Naturopath, and he helped in the beginning, but now… I don’t know. I can’t afford him, but I go. I just don’t know what else to do.
So… conclusions: This weekend I go to a more traditional eating pattern. I get to eat bran flakes again, and a little couscous and brown rice. But what I’m taking away from this is that fats are tasty, they make you feel nice and full, and if they come from things like nuts and avocados, they do more good than bad. Real meals are great, and they don’t have to be either PB&J’s or Gourmet four-coursers. There is a happy medium. And lastly, I want to forget about food entirely. I want to think of other things. There are more important things to do. Like go to the bathroom…