My Friend, My Enemy, My Restriction

That elusive experience called restriction has entered my life and I am loving it! I woke up on Friday morning just knowing that something was different. I was rushing about and didnt have breakfast - now that is just a travesty of the worst kind in my life and I eat for a week to make up for the lost meal - but I forgot all about it. Had lunch at 2pm and then no dinner - thats TWO weeks catching up and a nervous breakdown - I will be anorexic in a week at this rate!! Had a few little cracker nibblies on Friday night and that was it - ALL DAY! How pure and gaunt do I feel? Actually, strange thing is, I dont feel empty, or weak or starving or "holier than though". I feel just normal. I like this normality.

So Saturday was a similar day - but with too much alcohol - nice combination - hardly any food and too much alcohol - FUN! Cue roaring dry horrors on Sunday and whats the best thing for the morning after - Mc Donalds. I attempted a sausage mc muffin and I knew after about 1/2 a bite where it was headed but I soldiered on. Only had not even half but, stupid stupid stupid girl, I had a swig of juice (very bad dry horrors) and man that muffin was stuck like a 14 year old in Supre. It hurt, it ached I sweat, I thumped my chest, I put my arms up in the air (thanks Nene) I had to walk around like when I was in labour I could feel a chuck coming on I bent over and that puppy dislodged and I was all over. The adrenaline rush of relief when that pain went was almost worth it in a sick "mummy cant get a buzz anymore" kinda way. But that was it for me. I had that tight achey pain in my chest all day and it scared me into submission.

I found over the weekend that I am envious of people swigging away on drinks while they eat. I have a new found obsession - drinking while you eat. I no longer crave massive big chewy, crunchy mouthfuls of bread and carbs - now I crave a fizzy cold rush of diet coke to wash a half chewed mouthful down. Oh to drink while I eat! I find myself choosing liquids over solids and not eating so I can drink. Half of me thinks thats just shit but I've always been a very thirsty person and have always drunk alot. I always stole my mothers drinks when I finished my own as a kid. Back in the 70's when you could smoke in McDonalds I had a swig of my mothers drink and yes, I drank ash and ciggie butts. McDonalds cups make great ashtrays. Yum! It seems now that if I eat and wait for half an hour after to drink there just isnt enough time in the day for me to drink enough. I have to ration the eating to allow the drinking. Where will this end?

All the while throughout my little, very minor but very memorable episode, I was thinking of all my bandster gals out there. Poor Nola who had this out in public with a Llama sniffing around, Nene out in a restaurant, the confusion of not knowing which "quiet corner" out in public is going to be the best place to let your innards out. I couldnt imagine the horror! I was at home and only had to hide the extremness of the situation from my husband who is A. Prone to lecturing and B. A bit of a worry wart. I just acted like I was going to the kitchen and had my seizure around the corner near the loungeroom (wooden floors, wipe clean society, dont care where the spew ends up). I didnt know whether to laugh or cry thinking about all you trippers out there who have paved the way before me - the words I would use in my blog to describe my episode - what I would say to my surgeon when my band slipped and I aspirated a McDonalds hash brown. Oh the things that go through your mind in a crisis! Its like a car crash, feels like an hour and everything's in slow motion. Its actually 30 seconds and your writhing around like an excavated worm on a hot day.

I do feel like part of the club now. Trust me to find the belonging in all the foulness. My PB experience was so lame but this was the real mc coy. I got stuck!!! And it hurt!! Why should I be happy about that? I guess it does keep you honest.

So I'm loving the restriction but it is a double edged sword. I cant be a slack arse anymore. I have to be careful with the rules - I now know the consequences. I am worried this will wear off that sometime the insatiable hunger will come back and then where will I be? I want to kiss the surgeon (no tongues) I so viciously bagged out last week for granting me the grace of restriction. I have seen the light and I am transformed. Until the next cherry ripe.