Food for thought

This morning I caught sight of my naked self in the mirror. My reflection made me gasp.

"Gee whiz, am I really that big? Wow, it's colossal! I should probably take a photo and show it to people I want to impress."

Alas, the part of me that was proudly standing there all massive and gargantuan was my belly. I knew it had expanded over the past year or two, but today was the day it dawned on me that I really ought to do something about it.

It looks as if I'm expecting some kind of mammal. As much as I'd enjoy to hear the pitter patter of baby elephant feet trotting around my house, I suspect the birthing process would be really too painful (are they born with tusks? Yikes!).

Those of you who know me will be aware that I do have a particular fondness for cake. It would appear that my love affair with Mr Kipling has, despite being as careful as possible, finally resulted in me being impregnated with his cake baby. Whilst a litter of Battenbergs would be brilliant, eating one's own young is something that I could never do - not even for some delicious, succulent marzipan. Mmmmm...marzipan.

So it's time to say enough is enough Mr K! I'm going to have to start a new relationship with Ry Vita.

Funnily enough, being fat is something that I've absolutely revelled in up until now. Let me explain.

For twenty years I've suffered with Crohn's disease which in case you don't know, is an inflammatory bowel disease that can affect any part of the digestive system.

This arrived literally on my 18th birthday (worst fucking present, ever) and has caused me varying amounts of trouble in the intervening 20 years, some of it extremely severe.

For a long period of this time, I was essentially just skin and bone. Doctors encouraged to eat as much as possible to try and gain some weight, but inevitably when you have poorly guts, absorbing the nutrients just doesn't happen. In fact, eating too much could cause overload, stomach ache and ultimately cause more harm than good.

Thankfully, in more recent times, things have stabilised and putting on weight has not been a problem. The mindset I've had since I was 18 was that I could eat as much as I wanted of anything and, so long as it didn't cause my stomach to get sore, there were no consequences to this. In many ways it was wonderful!

When I was weighed at my last hospital appointment and found to have a BMI of 26 (ie one point into the overweight category), I was cock-a-hoop! After years of struggling to get past 9 stone, I was up to 12 and feeling tons better for it. What would have caused most people to feel despondent, made me feel very proud indeed.

I'm actually not too bothered by weights and measures. What I think is more important is how you feel. I think it's quite easy to tell whether you're really overweight or not just by paying attention to your feelings. I've no idea what my weight is currently and I won't be measuring it going forward. What I'm aiming to do, is get back to a place where I feel well again. If this technically means I'm still overweight, I don't care - I know it's right for me.

Now it's time to break my long entrenched habit of being able to eat whatever I want without consequence, and get back into a regime with a more considered diet. I'm not planning on going crazy, or even giving anything up as such. I'm just going to try and eat a bit less (cutting out third helpings will surely benefit) and do a bit more, developing a new set of habits that will help sustain a healthy weight, rather than a situation where I fluctuate between extremes.

I'm not helped by some of the medication that I take for the Crohn's. It has the dual effect of sometimes causing a ferocious appetite, and also water retention. As much as I'd like to blame this for my current shape, I know that's it's far from the whole story, but it is a factor.

Basically I know that I need to be kind to myself during the adjustment process and let things happen at their own pace. As I write this, I'm thoroughly looking forward to a lovely picnic with Jessington Cupcake and Keira Husky tomorrow. And let's be honest, I'll probably also have an ice cream. But this will be a special occasion treat rather than something to be done everyday (as much as I would like that).

I will blog occasionally about my progress with all this. It will be interesting to see how it goes. This time next week I might be crying into a giant bucket of Hoola-Hoops doused in Ben & Jerry's Phish Food ice cream. But hopefully I'll be eating an apple and feeling all the better for it.

And no Mr Kipling, by 'apple', I certainly do not mean a couple of your gorgeous little apple pies, heated up and covered in fresh Madagascan vanilla custard. *shakes head* Definitely not. No way.

*heads off towards kitchen*