Restriction - the love that dare not speak its name

OK so I really wish I wasnt writing this post but here goes. I have been pretty non plussed and numb to this whole situation but its starting to creep in now and I'm getting concerned. I went for my 2nd fill in Tuesday, all went well doctor very pleasant etc etc.

I guess I just dont feel like blogging right now and right now is when I should really. Just wanted to say (and make it real) that I have gained about 2 kilos over the past week and yes it is shitting me today and I am really not very happy about it. I want to have faith in this system and believe that the week will bring me restriction and that loss will come my way and I'm sure if I looked back over last month this exact same thing happened then. But really, the loss has slowed right down (and is it any wonder with the way I've been eating!). The doctor wont let me get filled any sooner than a month away and this past month gave me one step forward for a week and then 3 steps back and 2 kilos over. I cant do this for another month. He assures me this fill will be easier than last fill and the restriction will last longer but I'm very sceptical. The last couple of days since the fill has been completely quiet no restriction - no pain - nothing. Like I dont have a band. Less than the day before I was filled even!!!??? God I'm hoping that my next post will be me ranting about how wrong I was and how restricted I am!

I have eaten a chiko roll, a meat pie, chips and alcohol up the kazoo, sandwiches, burgers you name it and I barely feel it go down let alone get stuck at all. Can you all hear me complaining about gaining weight after a week of eating shit like that? I feel shitty at myself but then I think - hey, I've done the hard yards! I went through the hideous pain after surgery, the opti, the sad nursing home liquids, all that money!, discomfort, immobility, gas pain, port pain, jeans pain, bend over pain etc etc this freaking thing should not ALLOW ME to even contemplate those foods! I know the love of restriction and that love would not hurt you by letting you eat a chiko roll and follow up with calamari and chips. Restriction wont let you hate yourself. I love who I am when I am restricted - I dont even CONSIDER the food. I want it back! I want to be restricted.  I want to feel that hideous despondency when you cant eat what you want or how much you want. I want to feel that hopelessness, that emptiness when food cannot be used to spakfill a giant, gaping emotional hole. I want to wander around the house lost and forlorn not glued to the kitchen planning, buying, cooking and concocting the most fabulous foods. I want to miss grazing. I want to hurt like my hearts going to break in two and not glue it back together with ANOTHER chocolate easter egg. I want to feel the pain! I dont want to be gorged and numb and unable to feel.

I so didnt want to write this post I wanted to write and make you all laugh with my "boob in the drawer" antics but I just had to let this out. And I'm going to post my weight for this week. You will all freak. But I just cant update my ticker. I'm not that strong. There will have to be a missing week. I'm going to see how long this calm before the storm (or lack thereof) lasts and if I still have no relief by next Tuesday (one week after fill) I'm ringing to complain. I cant hack this slipping back into "I hate myself" mode.

Well, I havent eaten for two hours now so it must be time for a lil somethin' somethin'. Gotta keep this pain at bay somehow!

Love in the times of good and evil

You all know it kills me to write a "Happy Go Lucky" post and how un-entertaining they are so please switch over now cause here comes some love.

Kicking back with a pineapple cruiser, watching the sun set, fresh from a swim at the beach (yes its mid April and Autum here in sunny Sydney), showered, "seen to" (Shaggs by name Shaggsalot by nature), hair straightened and all is right in my world. Feeling tip top! And why is this so extraordinary to me? Well, its that time of the month here in Shaggsville (ie: ovulation - the actual time of the month is a complete anti climax compared to the roller coaster ride that is ovualtion) and it accounts for sooooo much here in my world.

First - weight gain. Yes I've gained a few hundred grams which in real terms means I've lost 1.5kg but that wont show til next week and thats ok too cause:

Second - next week is International Surgeons Visit here in Shaggsville. I should register a loss with Pretty Surgeon of the Year which slightly eases the discomfort of discussing obesity and lifting my top (not in a drunk pole dancing kind of way) for a man I should be having a drink with not being injected (not hot beef) by.

Third - my not so pretty moods. Enough said.

Fourth - my ability to eat a chiko roll and give "I'm going to stab you if you eat another calamari ring" look to my children as they go for my last calamari ring. Still not eating like I used to but still not eating like a bander.

So everything here is incredibly sparkly and pretty (could be the Cruisers (not Tomkat)). Husband has landed a job for an obscene amount of money (why is my life always great when everyone elses is always shite? Only we could land a massive career opportunity in the middle of a financial crisis and be broke during a market bloat) More on that later.

So I'm going to drink in the love (AKA alcohol) and enjoy this lovely time. Once again, very sorry for the lack of entertaining whinge fest but I'll be back more bitter than ever tomorrow and I think its time to tell you all about my boobs and the time I got my nipple stuck in a drawer. Fun times.