So, this morning (like, literally just after 8am, I was awake and on the scales. Its my day off. Why am I awake at 8am?) it was time for me to weigh myself, so I did and I’ve lost seven pounds in a week. That’s my first half stone. I am over the moon with myself. It’s given me such a boost and I feel so proud knowing that this week I’ve motivated myself to eat right, track everything and walk more every day. And it’s worked. I feel ………… amazing. Such a boost.
Today is the day that mum and I bite the bullet and go and sign up for our local gym. It’s a family package, so we split the cost 50/50, and because it’s a local council one, it’s pretty cheap. And I’m honestly looking forward to going to the gym because I really enjoy it. I’m definitely not going to enjoy the first few sessions back because I am so unfit. So, so unfit. But I know, from past experience, that the best way for me to lose weight is to combine doing weight watchers with not only walking but actual cardio exercise then building in weight training and resistance training.
Since starting weight watchers I’ve noticed several things.
- I’m sleeping better at night
- I wake up more cheerful
- I have more energy
- My moods are more stable
I have a couple of health conditions that make losing weight difficult if I don’t take my medication. I have an under-active thyroid and poly cystic ovarian syndrome. Both of which impact my health and my ability to lose weight because they both slow down my metabolism. But I’m on levothyroxine for my thyroid, and that really helps. As for my pcos there really isn’t much I can do right now. I know the more weight I lose the better it will be for my symptoms, and my overall health.
The reason I decided to start all this is I don’t want to be overweight in my forties. I’ve been overweight in my teens, twenties and now my thirties, to varying degrees. I want it to stop and this week I made a really big start toward that.
Just to change the subject for a second, never did I think I’d be 35, and still living at home. It’s something that causes me no end of self-consciousness, but at the same time, it’s caused by things that were totally out of my control. From 2006 until 2014, I didn’t work because I had depression. Five years ago, I was diagnosed with Chronic depression, in that nothing causes it, I just have issues with my brain chemistry. Three and a half years ago, I went back to the doctor after denying to anyone who’d listen for about six months that I was fine, didn’t need to go to the doctor. I finally gave in and went to the doctor to explain that for me, it was being given antidepressants for a short while, coming off them, then getting ill again, and needing to go back on them. Each time, I got depressed again faster, the actual depression felt worse, and getting better when I went back on anti-depressants took longer. At this point, I felt like I was hanging on by my finger nails and I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, I wouldn’t be able to do this cycle again. I didn’t have the strength.
So, my doctor agreed to put me back on antidepressants permanently and leave me on them. It will be four years the end of august and honestly, the last time I remember feeling this good, mental health wise, I think I was about fifteen.
So, to bring this rambling post to a close, this past week I kicked all kinds of ass and am now ready to go and do the same to the week ahead!