In the average week over these past two months, if I am being honest, I would say that roughly 5 out of 7 days I would stay at or slightly below my caloric intake. The other days I might go over by 100-200. On occasion (like 2 or 3 days that I can think of), I probably went over by a couple hundred calories. I have walked for 150 minutes a week each week, some days 20 minutes, some days 30 or more. I have aimed to drink 150 oz of water a day but in all reality have probably managed to average about 100.
This past Thursday also was the first time that I stepped on a scale in that 54 days. I had a doctor’s appointment to recheck my blood pressure stuff and I didn’t want to go there and be surprised, so I weighed myself before I left. Before I stepped on, I thought to myself that if I had lost 20 pounds or more I would be happy. Ten pounds would be OK but I probably would have been slightly disappointed. Well I stepped on first thing after waking up (before I got dressed or ate breakfast) and the floor came out from under me. The scale said I had put on a pound.
In that moment, the anger, sadness and helplessness that I was feeling threatened to make me cancel my appointment with the doctor and just go back to bed for the rest of the day. Seriously, I was done. I felt like for the first time in a long time I had sustained a healthy routine and I just knew it was working. When I saw that number on the scale, telling me that I was now heavier than I ever have been - I felt absolute defeat. I made myself go to the doctor (only because I had already cancelled once and didn’t want to get “the letter” from them warning me to keep my appointments). Their scale said I had actually gained 3 lbs. since my last visit. Joy.
I tried to calmly explain my plight to the doctor (who is a very lovely woman) but it ended up with me trying to talk with the I’m-trying-not-to-cry-but-failing lip quiver and snotty tears. She praised me for the work that I had already done and told me to keep it up, just lower my caloric intake by another few hundred and see what happened. She asked if I had ever considered gastric bypass because she thought I’d be a great candidate. She told me to make sure I’m drinking lots of water and eating high fiber foods. She offered a medication that worked with the Serotonin levels in your body to act as a non-stimulant appetite suppressant. She said all of the things and did all of the things that medical professionals should do and say, but in my overcharged emotional state I found myself resentful towards her for not having better answers.
So that was Thursday. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday were pretty much days of mourning and bratty resistance. I probably shouldn’t have allowed myself to revel in it for that long but I did. But today is Monday and I am resetting myself. I took the doctor up on that offer for a prescription. It’s a medicine called Belviq. I plan on starting it tomorrow and seeing what happens.
I wish that this ended in some big cheerleader-esque battle cry of inspiration but that would be phony. Honestly, I feel like I am battered and timid but I am anchored to something (or someone) stronger that promises to pull me along as long as I keep trying.
“I believe, help my unbelief.” - Mark 9:24