To be fair I have lost count - it could be the 500th for all I know.
This time it is going to really COUNT.
I have probably said that every-time too, "Yes! I'm going to drink loads of water, workout everyday, eat super clean foods and quit drinking!! Today is the day!! Time for the skinny-toned me to unleash her self and show the world I can have a fitbod and wear tight dresses!".
The motivation is there, I want it so much I can taste the skinniness! Then it hits 4pm and my friends come over with an abhorrent amount of alcohol, caramel bites and we order take-out and I think, "Fuck it. It's the weekend, I will have a brand new spanking start on Monday and make this weekend my last hurrah!!".
My week goes something like this...
Monday
I'm on day 2 of my hangover and not forgetting my food hangover. My body is intoxicated with sugar, fat and booze and the motivation isn't quite there, besides I have 3 slices of meat feast pizza left and it's such a shame to waste it...
The new Monday start has gone to pot already, I snorted the old pizza and now I feel horribly guilty and I can't start my "New me" eating dried up pizza, so Tuesday will have to be the new day for that glorious new start I keep harping on about.
Tuesday
I accidentally hoovered up my child's left over food of cheesy chicken pasta and apple pie and custard. I am serious - I didn't even realise I scoffed it until I looked down on my lap and I have two shiny clean plates. Old habits die hard.
Wednesday
This morning I feel refreshed and ready to crack on and I put in so much effort that I feel like I have earned myself a glass of wine. I tell my self, "It's fine Debbie, you have control and you are a grown woman. One glass is fine, everything in moderation! You have done great today! You deserve it! It is just one glass....." The problem is, my wine glasses fill half a bottle of wine and I may as well have two glasses.......
Thursday
I wake up and I feel like crap - it's probably those 2 glasses of wine I drowned my self in. "It's absolutely fine,it was one slip up!" I continue to have a great day, I eat clean and manage to drink 9 pints of water with fresh lemon and somehow I have managed to eat the entire contents in my childs snack cupboard. Fuck.
Friday, Saturday and Sunday
Well the week is nearly over and I may as well finish it like I started it and start again Monday....
So this is my new Monday, no more fucking about.
What is the difference this time? I don't feel motivated nor do I feel positive. I feel frustrated and angry. I do not want to do this. I really don't. I want to be lazy, eat curry and bathe in Gin and Tonic, preferably Sipsmith with Elderflower Fever tree.
I know it is going to be hard, I know I am going to fuck up. I am terrified of failing and I hate to fail. I know I will come across so many obstacles and I don't know if I have the mental energy to jump them, it just feels like so much hard work and I just want it to be easy. I know it wont and to be quite blunt, it pisses me off.
When I go out for a meal, I don't want to sit and work out the calories and fat in each meal, begrudgingly drink ice water and watch everyone indulge in desserts whilst I stare and make a puddle of dribble in gluttony desire.
In the past when I have taken on a "healthy lifestyle", and I have a cheat day - I beat my-self up mentality. Exhaust myself at the gym to burn it off. I have a breakdown and end up waking up in a mountain of takeaway boxes and wrappers. I start that evil vicious cycle of a "new Monday". I have gone around this cycle for years and in doing so I have gained a vast amount of weight and I am scared for my health. I live in fear that my daughter won't be picked up from school because her Mum is dead on the sofa.
I need to forgive my self, accept it is going to be hard. I will face challenges. I need to know it's OK to slip-up and I can actually have a cheat day and I don't need to burn my self flat out in the gym for 3 hours to burn off the pizza and fudge cake.
I need to do this not because I want to wear tight dresses and look good, but for my 6 year old daughter. So she has a healthy Mum, with a healthy mind and a healthy body.
My Name is Debbie and I am 31 years old, I have 13 stone to lose and I am tremendously terrified and this is going to be my journey in shredding my Fatsuit.
