The up swing

After starting the day in a bad mood yesterday things improved slowly as the day went on, ending with me being very relaxed. Took a while to get there though...

Went to lunch with mum, my sister Yolanda, Noo and baby Mala. It was my shout so I suggested sushi train at Westfields in the city. I usually have no problem eating Japanese as long as its good and fresh and if I have any of the rolls with rice I just douse it in soy sauce and take small bites so it goes down. I ordered a stack of stuff off the menu because they gave us a table rather than a spot at the train because we had the baby in a pram. All was good until I took my first bite and was stuck. Like, really stuck.

I waited ages because this can happen sometimes. I can get stuck on that first mouthful but once that is through it is like it has paved the way for any subsequent bites to come through cleanly and easily. Not this time. Second, third, fourth mouthfuls stuck, stuck and stuck. Fucking pissed me right off. I was paying but not eating! Mum, Yo and Noo ate almost everything while I sat there wishing hopefully I'd get that feeling of instant relief once the food drops. But it never happened.

I tried drinking a little green tea to help things along. Big mistake! When I add liquid to food it is like my oesophagus turns into a washing machine - churning and agitating - desperately trying to get the food to squish through the tiny opening to my stomach. Like each mouthful is fighting to get through first, punching and shoving the next bit of food and the walls of my pouch to make an exit to freedom. I can feel each turn, each punch and fuck can it hurt.

I was in agony by this stage and knew there was only one way that sushi was going and it was up. I asked mum and Yo to watch Noo so I could race to the toilet. Of course there was no way Noo was having that so in the end I took him to the parents' room with me. There I was, holding my hair back chucking the entire contents of my pouch into the toilet. Noo started copying me making similar noises and actions with his head over the kids' toilet next to me. It was a funny sight really.

I don't mind the chucking up of food, but when I've paid to eat at a nice restaurant all I see is dollar signs dropping into the dunny. So annoying!

Coming out the wrong end.
Picture from here.

We left Westfield and Yo went off for an appointment. It had started to rain (again!) so mum, Noo and I sought shelter in Dymocks book shop. After the chuck I was still starving so with Noo checking out the kids' books with mum I went up to the cafe to have a milkshake - food guaranteed to get through the bloody band. 300+ calories later and I was satisfied.

We made it home in the pouring rain and then I did something to surprise myself. I went to the gym! Amazing. Two days running. Had a great workout on the treadmill running and walking for 30 minutes as well as completing 5km on the bike. I then did 3 sets of 12 tricep dips and burnt a total of 460 calories, according to my new best friend - my Polar heart rate monitor.

I finished the day off with a healthy tuna salad and a dip in the spa and sauna to relax my weary muscles.

All in all a great end to what at first seemed like was going to be a bad day.

V.

PS Happy Australia Day to all you Aussies out there.

Mood swings

So yesterday was a good day. My 48 hours of personal space paid off and I felt really good yesterday arvo when Noo came back.

I did one hour at the gym, burning 412 calories. 20 minutes on the bike, 25 minutes on the treadmill using the C25K app for the first time and 15 minutes of floor work including 80 sit ups and stretching. I felt great afterwards. Very energised and proud of myself that I went.

My food choices weren't great though. I had the usual porridge with prunes for breakfast, lunch was two large slices of ham off the bone, some Stilton and Fontina cheese, one fresh fig and about five crackers. I didn't eat all the cheese but still need to start cutting it out all the together.

When Noo returned in the afternoon we went over to visit my sister and beautiful niece Mala. Noo scooted and we walked over to our favourite coffee shop. I had not one but two large skim cappuccinos at 75 calories each. The coffee is just so good that I couldn't resist the second cup. The cafe we go to is so great and easy to have kids at. There's toys to play with and lots of space inside and out for scootering around.

I ordered Noo a baby cino and a brownie. For some strange reason he didn't like the brownie so my sister and I shared it adding another 100 calories to afternoon tea bringing the total to 240 cals.

I wasn't overly hungry come dinner time so I had a couple of pieces of toast with peanut butter on one and Vegemite on the other. The only way for me to eat toast is to chew small crispy bites of sourdough toast very slowly and deliberately. Just checked out my trusty Calorie Fat & Carbohydrate Counter and 1 tablespoon of peanut butter is 120 calories! Got to give that up too.

Despite having a good day yesterday I'm back to feeling a bit flat today. Had a dreadful night sleep where I woke up every hour with my restless hips playing up, Noo kicking me every which way and anxiety dreams. It is raining and gloomy and generally a depressing day here in Sydney.

I feel like such a moody bitch!

Not my picture - source unknown but it
kinda sums up how I feel at the moment.

Looking forward to the next up swing.

V.

What a difference a couple of days makes!

I have seriously done nothing except lounge around and read, surf the web and watch TV for the last 24 hours, but I've done it alone and I gave myself permission to relax.

I love my boy more than life itself, but god, did I need this break. To be able to do what I want when I want without a three year old climbing all over me or demanding anything from me has been just what I need to clear my mind. It has given me time to relax and to sleep without being kicked in the guts all night.

Yesterday I also set up a new Twitter account for this blog. Anyone interested can follow me at @BabblingBandit. I'm just going to post the everyday stuff about my band. Food I eat, times I get stuck. That sort of thing. Anyone thinking about getting a lap-band might find it interesting to read about the little daily details of life with one. I thought too, it might keep me more honest about the food I eat if I am publishing to the Twittersphere. I might think twice about that junk I want to eat if I have to tell everyone about it (well, my three followers)!

So I've got my gym gear on. It is 10am. Noo and my parents are due back in about three hours. I'm just waiting for my phone to charge so I can try this new app at the gym this morning. It is called 5k Runner. Anyone know it or used it? It is a couch to 5K app that tells you when to walk and when to run in intervals til you get to running 5km. I'm still doubtful I'll ever be able to run. I have dodgy knees so I probably shouldn't run but I have had a few dreams lately that I was running and it felt great. Exhilarating even! I want to try to replicate that feeling in real life so I'm going to give it a go. I'll write more about it later.

Gym shoes are on! Now get your butt to the gym woman!

Chat later.

V.

Make some changes and get a life

19 days into the new year and nothing has changed. I feel so stagnant, almost paralysed. Change is obviously what I need but so much fear holds me back from doing anything. I'm tired and bored and irritate easily.

I need to get a job.

I'm the only one who can take the turn off.
Picture borrowed from Lifehack.org

Yuck! I wrote those couple of lines above a few days ago. Nothing has changed but I don't feel as desperate as I did on Thursday. At least I don't think I do.

Mum and dad have taken Noo away for a couple of days so I can have a break. I miss him badly already. Whenever I drop him at school I don't feel bad. I know he loves preschool. But for some reason I'm racked with mother's guilt this afternoon. I feel guilty for shipping him off. For feeling like a need a break from parenting.

People have started to notice I'm not feeling 100%. My parents and even a couple of my friends have asked if I am ok. I don't know what to say. Most people think I have an easy life. I only have one child and I don't work and I live with my parents. Life should be simple right?

These are the things that are worrying me at the moment:

1. My diet is shocking. I have sugar everyday. I crave it. My band is in the perfect place. I have to eat slowly, consciously chewing small mouthfuls of non starchy foods. Oats and prunes for breakfast, salad for lunch, protein and veggies for dinner. Great. I'm satiated after about an entrée size portion. Even better. The problem is in between meals I crave snacky stuff like popcorn or lollies and I never resist the bad stuff. Also after dinner I have to have chocolate or ice cream or both. Usually I have a small cone with low fat vanilla ice cream with crushed peanuts and Ice Magic on top. To die for... literally.

My weight is hovering around 80-82kg. I have been this weight most of my adult life. While it is so much better than being between 100-102kg I'm still 10kg short of my goal. I feel fat and ugly. I feel like I'm aging so fast now. I feel like I've wasted the best years of my life being fat. Who cares if I'm a bit overweight when I'm old? Now is when it matters. Especially seeing as I'd like to find a 'mate'. And I don't want a fat partner either. I think it is disgusting if I'm honest. My gut, my legs, my arse, my arms. Fucking disgusting. I find it completely repellent on a man too. I'm not saying I need a perfect Michelle Bridges 12 fucking wbt body. Just a normal size 12 would be awesome. Why the fuck then can't I stick to any diet? Why do I shove that chocolate in my gob, order that ice cream, buy those lollies, bake those chocolate chip bikkies? Why?

2. Exercise is currently not a part of my life. But I want it to be. Fear holds me back. I bought a 10 pack of visits to Fitness First that I have to use before March. I went the first time last year when I was attempting 12wbt. I liked the class but the gym scared me. Living in the city the nearest gyms to me are obviously frequented by city workers. I went to the Bond Street Fitness First and it was full of hot men and women who were so fit and fabulous and generally intimidating for a fatty like me. Sounds like such a bad excuse, and it is I know, but I can't seem to get past it. I haven't been to our gym downstairs either. I'm just so fucking slack. Slack and lazy.

3. Uni has started freaking me out. I dropped out last study period because my heart wasn't in it any more. My anxiety was through the roof because I was also trying to find a job and doing RSVP trying to find a man as well as trying to do 12wbt by the book and failing. Something had to give so I gave up uni. My first application for special circumstances was rejected but finally my second was accepted. I've enrolled again in the same subject for the next study period which is a relief but I'm worried I'll fail again. The study period doesn't begin until 27 February so I really should use this time wisely and get started on redoing assignment 1 ahead of time.

4. The work situation scares me witless! I don't even want to write about it really. I know I need a job for my own sanity but having that kind of commitment terrifies me. For too long I haven't been expected anywhere really. Noo is the only one that makes me do anything and that is for love so it is ok. He loves me even when I fuck up. What if I actually do get a job and I don't do it right or I wake up every morning again hyperventilating with anxiety about having to go and perform around a bunch of strangers. And this market is so tight! Especially for part time admin roles. I've had so many rejections. Before my breakdown I got every job I ever interviewed for. I'm excellent at what I do but I can't seem to get a foot in the door anywhere now.

So that is it I think. My poor me middle class problems.

I should stop whining and start doing but I'm so tired. I need another life changing epiphany. That lightning bolt. That breakthrough. Just some sort of kick up the arse that gets me moving again.

V.

New year, old problems

For some reason I always feel like blogging when I feel like shit. Maybe it is because it helps clear the fact from the fiction, the rational from the irrational. Or maybe I just feel like wallowing in my misery and sharing the grief.

My latest woe is boy trouble again. Fucking men. I can say that because I bet there are none that read this blog, so fuck em. Fucking men. Why do I even want one? I have everything. I have a great place to live, an adequate income, great family and friends and most importantly I have my son. My beautiful, beautiful boy. I just hope I raise him with the utmost respect for women because the world does not need another useless, misogynistic coward out there.

Since I last blogged about dating I have met three other blokes with still no success. One was so not my type, the second was a complete weirdo with more issues than I have (which is really saying something) and real anger issues about women and the third I really liked (which of course makes him not like me). Number 3 ticked all the right boxes, plus was hot, lived only 10 minutes drive away and he dressed well and had the same politics as me. We also have similar taste in music and TV shows.

Everything seemed to go so well on our first date! We had lots to talk about, there was lots of eye contact, there was spark! At least I thought so. He was a complete gentlemen, if not a little nervous but I thought we got on famously. He had walked to the pub where we had drinks (him a couple of beers, me Diet Coke) and dinner, so I drove him home not more than seven minutes away. We sat in the car outside his house and he told me about his home and the renovations he'd done to his house, he told me about the neighbours dodgy reno work and about his dog. There was a gentle kiss on the cheek goodbye and talk of going to the cinema next week.

All good, no? Well, I fucked it up I think by sending the first text the next morning. Just a thanks again for last night, really enjoyed meeting you, etc. More text followed and all seemed really well.

And then I sent the first text on the second day after our date. He had sent the last the night before so I thought it would be ok. But then yesterday Noo was playing with my phone and he accidentally sent a really random text of emojis to him. He replied and said he was just having a nap and then going out for dinner with his daughter and would text back later. He could have left it there and I seriously thought he would but he did text back saying hi and telling me about his day. I returned the text with a hi and how was dinner kind of message. He returned with comments about not feeling well after having a curry and that he should stop eating shit and get back to running. He then asked what I had for dinner.

Fuck, sorry about the detail... the clincher comes next.

So I text back saying that I had made a really nice and light meal of chicken sang chow bow. And following on from the exercise theme started in his text I said that I was looking forward to getting back to my spin classes once Noo went back to daycare. I said that I'd lost 20kg last year and was psyched to lose the last 5-10kg this year. And then NO REPLY.

Either he died of food poisoning from that Indian food he had or something about my text regarding my weight loss put him off.

Do you think guys would be turned off if they knew you used to be fat? Maybe it put the fear in him that if I could be that fat once, I could get that fat again?

Do you know what? I am so sick of all this self doubt and double guessing and reading between lines that don't even fucking exist. Maybe I was born to be single!

But I want more children. And my parents can't live forever and Noo will one day want to move out of home and I will be left alone.

I am now sitting here with a large McDonalds Quarter Pounder meal, stuck with a bit of burger and trying to wash it down with full strength Coke. Urgh. Why?

Why?

Don't answer.

A tight start to 2012

Wow! It is 2012.

The end of 2011 was big.

My son had his third birthday and my sister had a baby girl the day before, making me an aunty for the first time. My time off uni was filled with organising Noo's birthday party and driving my sister around from one appointment to another, from shop to shop, as she did the last of the preparations for Mala's birth.

Christmas was quiet. My mum prepared food here and we took it over to my sister's to have it with her new little family. Noo is in awe of his little cousin. It is beautiful to watch how he is with her, with so much gentle amazement.

Noo looks at his beautiful little cousin Mala Grace

Having a first hold of a baby

My band has been tight. Really tight. I think it was really how it should be. Firm enough to make sure eating must be done very slowly, with lots of chewing of tiny little mouthfuls. The only problem is that I was so busy it was so hard to sit down and eat a proper meal at band-speed. With all the running around I was doing I just wanted to be able to grab a quick sandwich, hog it down and be off on the next mission. Of course this isn't possible with a band so I ended up missing a lot of meals, eating a lot of popcorn and drinking a lot of shakes.

I had a scheduled appointment with my band doctor just before Chrissy so asked for a slight unfill. He wasn't pleased about it because I was asking for the little bit to be taken out that I'd asked to be put in when I was attempting the 12wbt. But it's Christmas, I told him! I must have looked crestfallen because after giving me a little rousing off he said he'd take a tiny bit out. And tiny bit it was! I'm glad though because I've made it through Christmas and New Years and I've only gained about 1.4kg. Any gain is shit, I know, but it could have been worse.

Yesterday I had a major getting stuck episode. I was at the pool with Noo and my girlfriends and their kids. All the kids ran to the other side of the pool to play on the little playground. My friends were happy to let their kids play without too much supervision and I was trying to be all cool about it too. At the same time I was eating a cracker and mustn't have chewed enough because it got majorly stuck. I was trying to watch from a distance what the kids were up to and as the anxiety rose my throat must have closed a bit more and my band wrapped itself around that bit of bikkie. No worries I thought, I'll walk over to the playground and make sure everyone's ok and in the meantime the walk will help push the food through.

No such luck. I got Noo back to where our towels and stuff was piled and then went off to the canteen to get a drink and some hot chips for Noo's lunch. I had a big mouthful of Gatorade and that was it. I could feel the crackers and Gatorade moving around in my esophagus fighting their way to get through the hole and down into my stomach. Oh god, it was so painful! The worst getting stuck episode I've had in ages. I had to wait at the canteen for what seemed like yonks for Noo's chippies to be done while all this was happening and I became increasingly aware of my need to purge ASAP!

When finally I could take my drink and the chips back to where we were sitting I ran back to the bathroom and blurgh! Chucked everything right up. God, the relief! The crackers and the snakes (yes, so much for my new year's resolution to cut out lollies!) game up in great gulps.

The thing is I don't mind the spewing. I'm sure I've said it before. The relief is enormous and it's not like it tastes bad like a traditional vomit does. The food hasn't hit the stomach yet so it hasn't been mixed with acid. And as I see the food swirling around the basin I think, well these are calories I don't have to worry about any more!

On the dating front, I have heaps to report. I've written enough for today though so I'll save that for another day.

I hope everyone has had a wonderful start to 2012!

V.